I write because the pen and the paper dont judge and the ink tells it like it is.

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  • proverse 137w

    Sun kissed

    The hearts frozen by winter
    Warm up again
    Sun kisses them
    And the roses respond
    Opening their scarlet lips to the sky

  • proverse 138w


    They loved him
    and the way his guitar tickled their souls
    Screaming his name
    as he danced on the teetering stage edge
    He was bold, brave and wild
    Everything they could never be
    But only in the limelight
    For the shadows knew another
    Nervous, self conscious and human
    But the crowd had never dared to know
    So he danced and sang for them
    Bold, brave and wild
    Only in the limelight

  • proverse 138w


    Angry grey clouds blooming in the sky
    Swallowing the sun
    Deafening thunder
    Crashing under
    Crackling lightning shattering the dark heaven
    Screaming wind breaking the silence
    But its the pitter patter of graceful rain
    That fills my soul

  • proverse 141w


    She offered me cake and tea
    Red velvet, no milk
    Tea leaves bobbing in the red mess
    She was nice and smiled a lot
    But I could not look past her lips
    Rose red
    I said nothing as she spoke to me
    I sat and watched red
    Dancing on her lips
    Clinging to her fingernails
    I hated the colour red

  • proverse 147w


    Sunrise bore hope but killed the dream
    Sunset bore uncertainty but awakened the star

  • proverse 154w


    Beneath this raggedy outfit
    Is more than flesh and blood
    Its a powerful idea
    And ideas don't bleed

    Inside this small rounded head
    Is more than memories and scars
    Its a beautiful dream
    And dreams don't fade

    Believe in what is beneath
    And invest on what's inside
    As within, so without

  • proverse 162w

    The poem of ideas

    There are times when I wish to write
    To catch the little mosquitoes
    Of ideas buzzing in my mind's ears
    To write about electric poles
    The weather beaten wooden poles
    The taut potent copper cables
    And the faded kicks hanging on them
    To write about the children in the streets
    Wrapped in dust from head to toe
    Chasing a homemade plastic soccer ball
    Their tattered clothes flying freely in the wind
    To write about the high school students
    Standing in deserted pathways and dim corners
    To choke on cheap tobacco and steal fondles
    The girls in short skirts, the boys with waist lines on the knees
    So I write about them
    Jammed in a single poem that you're reading right now
    The poem of ideas

  • proverse 167w

    There is something about dandelion
    Standing tall against a blowing storm
    And spraying their fluffy wishes to the sky

    There is something about a boat sail
    Its stitches and seams pulled taut by the wind
    As it propels the boat gracefully forward

    It is the beauty of giving in
    And the elegance of being relentless

  • proverse 168w


    There is something about that photograph
    The one that hangs in the hall
    It is the feeling that it conjures in me
    Ad it hangs on the cream wall
    The stark contrast of the black and white
    Overshadowed by the rainbow of memories bright
    It is the way you are smiling
    And I am laughing
    It is the twinkle in your eye frozen in time
    It is your perfect face framed forever
    It is the way I look at you in that picture
    That says if you leave me, I will be shattered

  • proverse 169w


    Our love was woven on a tapestry
    Of thick multicoloured yarn
    The greys of our sad days
    The reds of fiery passionate nights
    And the blues of something in between
    Stitch by stitch our picture fell apart
    Worn out by your sweet lies
    Cut by your stinging slaps
    And severed by your lack of trust
    We woke up to tattered shreds
    We were yarn again