His lullaby

Her eyes had seen no evil.
Her heart was pure.
Her cries rocked the earth.
Her laugh brought the heavens.

“Sleep my beautiful princess”.
Whispered the sleepy man.


in silence

They danced in silence
but not in countenance.
This world had lost its sound.

They danced
in enveloping silence.
Swaying with the weight of hearts
caught on the pendulum
between tears
and oblivion

With gravity

I listen to gravity
with its sweet sweet voice
and I am enchanted by the melody
in its call.

I have shut my eyes
as it’s breath soars past me.
The flutter of my shirt accentuates

its seduction.

I have listened
with a heart, desperate for conviction,
to the beautiful allure of gravity.
It fills my blood stream
with life and dreams. Till
my grasp for comfort

Here lies my being.
In a charge towards the earth.
The taste of peace
fills my mouth.

I know.
it is only for a moment.
But I know.


“His mum is so pretty.
Maybe she is not his mum”.

‘Cos their world;
once so beautiful,
is today, covered in white
and cold. It lays drenched in pain
and its flavour of forgottenness
sailed through the sinuses
of seven coloured-haired

“His world cannot possibly be
beautiful”, they thought
as they looked through
monochromatic lenses
coloured by life
and rejection.


 Bus rides

The difference
between two bus rides
is the company that finds dance
with my heart.

I am seated
on the left aisle.
Loneliness cuddles my left

I can’t even mourn (with)
the window

The man who fell

I heard a story
about the man who fell
the hardest. He was the one
who climbed the highest.

He loved much more than my world can fathom.
Much more than my words can fathom.
Her absence breaks him much more
than the world can fathom.

This fall fills me
with fear.

Dancing leaf

Do you see how the hanging leaf dances?
Its rhythm is nonsensical.
Here. There. There. Here. Further down.
Shimmer. Shimmer. Here.
It bows with a stronger wind.
it goes into a mild and resounding clap.

It is wet in the morning
And crumbled in the fall.
It boasts of its green
and adorns its yellow.
I can see it smile under the sunlight
And swing with the falling rain.

Here is the dancing leaf
that lives beside my window

Saving the world

Saving the world
is not always possible.
Not even on days where I am
draped in my swanky new trench coat
or dazzling cape, caught in a rumba
with the wind.

Saving the world
isn’t always possible.
On some days, all you need to do
is hold its hand and let the flames
light up the streets.