A Kindling Soul

December rolls in, Come here, hold my hand. Let me save this warmth In a jar that will on my table stand, While I would await. Alone, under the stars. Deserted, in the rains. While wind would wrestle in your hair, Where my fingers once did find place, It would be my sleep, my peace blown away. Remembering your whispers, I will shiver, and fall. Without your arms to catch me. But closing my eyes, I will forget it all. And find myself in your embrace again. Your voice would be mine, Guiding me through the distance. Your words, your thoughts, mine yours. But, oh, what a terrible way of existence, No sun, no moon, no air.

Another leaf has fallen. Another petal now brown. Another moment has passed. Another thought in mind drowned. Let it go, let it go. Time is all we don’t have. Wake up, and realise, Desire is another ever-binding trap. A glance, a touch, an embrace. None too many, none too less. Just enough to save me now. Just enough for sanity to efface. I counted wrong, a long while ago. I counted one too many. The ever ticking clocks that glowed in the dark. No, time doesn’t wait for any. Collecting names and moments Alone, I will. Alone, I shall. Moments of end sooner here.  Dementia, oh how you me enthrall.

A tiny tentacle creeped out From behind. And grabbed on, held on, No slight. "Harmless", they thought. The monster smiled. And readied itself, For another strike. They floated ahead, The tentacle forgotten. Repressed, Restrained, Uselessly begotten. In a world golden, Red and untroubled. A sudden flash of green Unknown, on the surface bubbled. Desire, want, unprecedented. Ill, sick, unholy. Gushing through every vein Tentacles tightening, unduly. Securing its grip, Digging deep. Right till the soul The green essence seeps. Suffocating, smothering The tendrils, the fumes unbidden. Feeding on their own fears Both unknown, and those hidden. Slowly, engulfing their whole, No means of escape, no rationale. The green monster emerges, And all else fails.

The winds blew the blue curtains at his window into a messy, convoluted mess. Bruce shivered in his bed, and tossed on to the other side, facing away from the window. The blanket was thick, but it wasn’t helping him keep warm. ‘Count down from 100.’ It always worked. 100. 99. 98. 97. ‘What was that?’ Something flew near his window, but it was too dark to make anything out. Bruce pulled the blanket over his head and started counting again. 96. 95. 94. The whistling wind broke his concentration. He slowly moved the blankets to peek out of the blanket. The darkness was opaque. Bruce quivered a little. ‘Horrible vantage point. Need to know how to get a better one.’ Another movement. ‘Must not be fearful. Must check it out.’ The branches moved in a weird manner. The moonlight lit up a few of them, and their shadows hid all the others. Bruce climbed out of his bed and slipped into his coat. Cautiously, he walked to the window. The branches made queer shapes. The wind kept changing the br...

You aren't my moon, To reflect everything I bestow upon you In the dark. You are my mirror. Letting the real me show up, Hiding no flaw nor a mark. You aren't the wind, That blows me away, Or makes it difficult to stand. You are the breeze That does me cool keep, And plays with looser hair strands. You aren't a dream, That is gone once seen. Or right there, and not in my hand. You are the truth, Though surreal and crude, Unbelievable and beautifully unplanned. You aren't a place That I go to to hide, Where someone me might follow. You are this journey, That is us, that is me, And mine, today and tomorrow.

A ship then sailed A twilight then rang. They trusted in the winds And downed rains unplanned A lust for treasures known And never truly had. A darkness they misused Disguised and hid their tracks. They moved through the waters Slowly and with vigour Cautiously placed each finger Mayhem silent and thicker. The wind took them in its hand And decided to play a game. They held on for the love of God. Distinctly kept calling out His name. The mist now fogs the view. Direction and time,both lost out. They wait and wait to strike again. There blows just a tiny seed of doubt.

A face etched with pain; A beauty unforeseen. Despair that breaks my heart, And yet you make it beat. Why did I find you last? I'd never have let you bleed. Who am I, who am I To hurt him? You are mine, you are mine, But you loved him. Say you're fine, say you're fine, Oh, I'll make him pay. 'nother love, another love, In another time. Rub him out, cut him out Out of our minds. Make it stop, make it stop. Let's let the light in. The innocence of your heart. I will keep it safe. The demons of your past. I'll give all it takes In the light and dark, There will always be faith. Who am I, who am I To save you? All that's mine, all that's mine Is because of you You're my light, you're my light On the darkest day. Take my arm, take my arm And, I'll hold you. Know it dear, know it dear, That I love you Through the peace, through the storm, Will never let you go.

“Mumma?” a small voice piped from behind my newspaper. I brought down my hands, and looked at my tiny little 7 year old from over my glasses. She was fiddling with her hair, and making that face. That face she makes when she was going to ask me something, and not let go till she had done her thesis. I smiled at her, and my smile immediately replicated on her beautiful face. Her brown eyes were sparkling with curiosity. I put down my newspaper, took a sip of coffee, and raised my eyebrows. “Can I ask you something?” I sighed, “Yes, my love, what is it?” She was still fiddling with her hair. The sunlight from the window highlighted the nutty brown gloss of her hair. Her curls were untamable.  As was she. “Come here”, I signaled to my lap. She jumped off her sofa, and came trotting to me. I pulled her onto my lap, and asked her again. “What did you want to know?” She looked at me, looked me in the eye, and asked, “What is rape?” I blinked. She blinked right back at me. Her eyes ...

For those of you craving some intelligent, soulful, beautiful music- Hozier is the one for you. Hozier is the stage name adopted by Andrew Hozier-Byrne, an Irish musician. His songs are evocative and meaningful; the music that supports those beautiful, deep lyrics is equally enchanting. You will find influences of Blues, Folk, Community Chorals, Soul Music, R&B and Gospel in his work. His voice is magnificent, it is vivacious and poignant- it is the kind of voice that haunts you- you can NOT forget it; you wouldn’t ever want to. His voice resonates the gravity, the depth of his lyrics. His voice is robust, it is striking- it is filling. Each song of his is a story- and Hozier is a master story-teller. His words draw you in; the music keeps you still, while his voice entangles you in those beautiful, divine notes- and you don’t know if you are freer or more caught up in all that he has to convey. The lyrics will leave you wondering as to why they hit you so hard- you couldn’t ...

The scintillating sun,  A girl, blithe and serene. They said, a delightful scene.  Dancing, frolicking, pirouetting. A sweet summer child, they said, Swaying in her yellow summer dress.  Orange, red, pink, and bright, Flowers adorned her braid, Nut brown, sheeny, thick,they said. Eyes glimmer with hope and fancy,  A smile, they said,as enchanting as can be.  Pink and glowing, happy. A white puff moved in the sky, Unnoticed, tight lipped.  As also, a shadow, did. Drab and dreary, dark and grim, The shadow crept. Treacherously, they said, he took his place. She didn't see the dark clouds That overpowered her dear friend. The summer child,they said, now bereft of her guard. From within the shadows of that corner The shadow moved out. They said, a lurid being overshadowed her. They said, someone walked by the corner, And saw petals,bleak and sombre. Once orange, red, pink;now without color. ...

I wish I wouldn't forget. But I do.I Always do. Make a beautiful memory. Or steal a couple from you. It's always those I cherish the most. Is this fate? I wouldn't know. Are memories made so one day we forget? Like fireflies-Incomplete and aglow. It wasn't just a wintry night, It wasn't a confession nor acceptance of defeat, At the hands of this world, this big bad world, In which we live, of which we breathe. There are some days I reminisce, There are sometimes I wish I'd known. That like flames of fire, that glaze and die, Out of my head memories'll be thrown. I try to memorize, every cut and every line, When there is nothing else, this is on my mind. While I may believe, there is life to live, My mind is in the past, searching, writhing.