love

Conviction

conviction (n): a belief or opinion that is held firmly

He works for the cause
Knowing fully his potential
To follow in great footsteps.
But what is great?
A shining star
On the Walk of Fame?
To him it is a star
Cemented into
The Sand of Time:
Fossilised.
His works preserved in nature:
Wildlife.
That which we smothered
With our greedy gasses
And our lust for cha-ching.

Convicted by his conviction.
A conviction? – as in sentenced?
A convict?
Perhaps – to the prison of our destruction.
His uniform is stripped lands
Where trees once belonged…
His jail bars are acid rain and rising waters…
But like a Mandela he chooses to use his
Time behind bars for the good of all:

Sacrifice branded into his meatless diet;
He will no longer be prisoner one day,
And neither will his children
Because he had it:
CONVICTION.

One Night Deal

Beauty Princess smile –
pretend the scars don’t exist.
Let the water wash over you;
let it cleanse,
bleach the dark –
make everything blonde.
Let the diamonds drip,
walk with strut,
strut with style.
Hold his hand:
be okay…
Just for tonight,
Beauty Princess,
just for tonight.

Inked

You might think I’m weird:
Maybe I’m too strong for you?
Does my opinion get you boiled?
Am I too bold?
Is my shine too bright?

I don’t walk the usual path;
I don’t wear your social norms;
I don’t believe in your higher powers…

Why does my tattooed chest
Bother you so much?
Is it because you long to be brave?
Long to be yourself?
Long to ink your life?
Or is ink too permanent for your lifestyle?
Will you be out of fashion next spring?
Will they no longer ‘love’ you?
Did conviction go out of fashion?
Is individuality no longer
On the menu at your gourmet restaurant?

I’d apologise for educating myself
On others subjects other than
Celebrity gossip and trashy ways
but then I’d be substanceless.
I’d rather live on the outside
Dancing to Nature’s song
Than inside craving likes like drugs.

The act of growing up?

She just wants to be touched,
have someone reach out and grab her…
Make her feel like she’s worth the pain…
Let her know she can make someone
feel that way.
She puts herself out there;
she knows one thing:
she isn’t ready.
But everyone else is doing it!
Maybe this is what it means to grow up…
She doesn’t know but she will,
she will because she’ll be hurt:
and she will be scarred;
and she will be damaged;
and she will be broken;
But that’s the only way
someone like her will learn.

The Matriarch

There for the children:
cuddle-cuddle-cuddle.
Strong and demanding;
Purposeful.
Running the ship!
Strictly lenient;
all aboard –
if not – overboard!

Dare open your mouth
to challenge the lady;
Dare to be put in place –
walk the plank.

Bow down or
Bow out.

Enjoy the ride;
you’ll have fun!
(only on her side)

Baby Girl

A father to one;
but a father he is none.
Caring for a little child
whose mother is wild.
He really loves to do this,
and to him, she is his goddess.
But his wife is sad:
she had no child – makes her mad.
Well, she had a baby,
might make contact one day… maybe.
For now the three struggle
because they keep it legal.
When girly grows tall
she might fall
like her mother did –
left nothing but an empty cupboard.
Hence life is tough;
all just try to bluff.

Drugged

Breathe in deeply
at the sight.
Magnificent;
sculptured.
Snap shot for later use:
daydream in reality.
Stare silently and stealthily…
Breath in deeply
to control the uncontrolled desire.
Touchable touchable touch-able;
I am able.

Breathe in deeply,
let your looks devour me
like a drug.
You are the hallucinogen
I’m addicted to.

Breathe in deeply
and release.

Just breathe in deeply…

The Pawn

I’m shifted along
the blocks
and played and
even sacrificed
used to achieve
the goals
and ambitions
of the master
I have to do
as I am told
I have no
choice in
this life
I’m picked
up and moved
forward
and used as
a tool to lure
the plan
to fall into
place
I feel common
and know I
am used
I have no
ambition for
myself because
I am an
instrument of my
master’s ambition

maybe one
day I can trade
myself in to
be a King
until then I
am used

Tide of Truth

She walks onto the sandy beach
With a smile on her warm face.
She picks up a stick which is drowning
In the sunlight and begins to draw.
The end of the stick shifts sand
Into a loving heart.
Inside a giant
Letter for him
+
Letter for her.
She smiles as he looks onward
And chases her along the beach
Into the shallow waters where
They embrace:
Teenage lovers.

The wind blows her hair
Into her eyes as she stares at
The flat horizon of the sea.
She thinks – deeply – and glances
At him walking slowly towards
Her and a tear leaks from her eye
And makes the water saltier.
As he sits next to her
She just puts her hand on her stomach
And he realises what he has done.
As a wave crashes she realises
That’s not the only thing that
Has just crashed.

The overcast weather matches
The grey threads emerging from her scalp.
She walks slowly along the shore
Allowing the water to softly lick
Her journeyed feet.
She passes a young child and
Wonders whether her child
Will ever return her calls she
Has left for several years.
She comes across a heart drawn
In the sand with
Letter for him
+
Letter for her.
The water quickly envelops the meaning
And retreats leaving behind
A blankness; a truth.

She: sea water.
Child: shaped sand.
Truth: given up forever.