GENTLEMAN OF PANACHE

How good is a timely word? Dare I give a free rein to my thoughts and speak out from the softness of my soul? Pour out my heart like water? I treasure the very love of my life! To the world I claim. Tears are upon my cheeks, Streams of tears flow from my eyes and disappear into the doors of my mouth as water disappears from the sea or as a river bed becomes parched and dry. Out of the depths I hurt, My wound deep as the sea! Not of pain, but of a burning missing in my heart, A missing of whom I hold dearest! Tho’ts of you reign in my mind without cease! To me, you compare to the treasures that were hunted in days of old, To me, heavens are no more for my paradise be you. Darling, You bound me into a yoke of affection, By your hands, has my heart been woven, In your love, am I walled in and escape dare I not, For I am a content detainee! Baby, my heart longs for… Your speech smooth as butter, Your words more soothing than oil, The scent of your blissful perf...

Amidst the greatness felt by the millions of worthy souls rejoicing in heaven, Amidst such greatness does this heart of the writer stand this instance, Such a great feeling, feels like sinking into a sea of warm milk. So peaceful like! Out here, listening to the cold breeze of the night whisper through the leaves of the trees, Listening to the silent sound of my visible companion, the darkness. Under the city of stars, alone, thinking in long slow thoughts, Reminiscing the soft talk of my grandmother around the fire place, in the ages of my tender years, The talk of the age of ogres and the children of the giants, The talk of the men and women of the old, of men and women anointed with seven oils and named after the rainbow of light that fills the rainy skies! During those nights, she would charm us into singing to the seven faces of the ageless gods, The old gods, the nameless, faceless gods of the ancient ways. The memories of a perfect childhood, A childhood full of ...

Mothers are supposed to pick you up and tell you that all will be okay; that’s what mums are supposed to do, They are not supposed to be the cause of your pain; they are supposed to make it go away, They are supposed to hold you and tell you everything is gonna be alright, They are supposed to tell you that thunder is angels bowling, And that it is okay to be afraid of the dark, And that it is not silly to think that there are monsters in your closet; They are to teach you that there are monsters and it is okay to be afraid of them but it is not okay to let them win and it is not okay to be one, And that it is okay if you wanna climb into bed with them just this once because it is scary in the room all alone, They are supposed to say that it is okay to be afraid and they are not to be the thing to be afraid of, And most importantly they are supposed to love you no matter what. A mother is the type who sees there are 4 pieces of pie for 5 people and declares that she i...

Be I a solitary man, on a mission not to be left to my lone thoughts this Valentines, For I fear for my soul, what is left of it, a soul hurt by solitude, Companion be the remedy, so I hear. LONELINESS!… I shiver at the name, and rightly not so? For long have hungered for the affection of a woman by my side, PHEW! These words have been entrenched in me for longer a time, out with it, spoken have I the words at last! On this night, Left alone to my own words… Up in the heavens, the old moon in the arms of the new one looks so appealing. The full moon draws closer by the nights, aye! The skies be lovely tonight, Lovely as the charm of heaven! O this night lures the secrets deep hidden in my heart. My heart is pierced by Cupid, I sing, By a missus, who be a star, lighting the darkness in my heart. My sweet pearl, ‘Ow her beauty disarms me! Such beauty, surely she be one of God’s own creation and not a descendant of those dark creatures, who found their refuge on ...

Know all men by these presents, Sang, has the heart that sings, The song has been sang, by the heart that sings, Time is upon us… We must convene the brethren code, We must all honor the call for we have been summoned. For the world is well rid of justice, fairness, equality and love, We live in the age when man offers desire as justification for his crimes in order to accomplish his selfish ends! Better were the days when the mercy of the seas of the life we sail in came not from the weight of coin in our pockets but from the sweat of a man’s brow and the strength of his back alone, you all know this to be true mates. Oppression and servitude speak of twined destinies but should they ever join us to desperation and dictate our course? Nay I say. Leaders charm the masses with promises of a better tomorrow, of a fatter drop of water in the desert, Yet, within they are imprisoned in greed and corruption! Words spoken through prison bars lose their charm, to them I say, ...

Belittle naught of this self. A herd-less herdsman he be, Yet, a herdsman rod at hand, Treading these valleys and highlands; tread he does, Threads of charmful whistling of ancient tunes escaping this self’s lips chastening the lonely ranges. A lone ranger in the vast wilderness; is this self, Like a wayward stream, lost from the world like a treasure-hunt course. Yonder, the horizon, a vision he chases, Knowing nay, of whence shall mine heroics be exalted, To the end of the earth…search for my vine. Disrobed of whom inspired the stars to fall from the heavens, Whose words stirred the soul and boiled the blood. Swallowed whole into the belly of the beast that is her passion; swallowed whole was this self. My queen dethroned from her throne in my heart. Fly, would this self, In then days when lilies grew up in the skies; in then days would this self fly. Now, with the heights deflowered of the whiteness of the lilies, The old wings that enabled he to soar high s...

The moon will be abashed, the sun ashamed, If on such a day I fail to open my floodgates and scribble this confessional melody. Every morning, as mist is swept away and dawn is spread across the mountains, These mornings, her steps trample the ground in hurried fashion, Paces accustomed to vision and focus! From distant safeness, my gaze captures her frame swaying away like a hut in the wind, To where? I wonder! For sure dusk will find me in my usual post of watch, Awaiting the replenishing sight of she as she trods back. I speak of none but of a ship that secretly trades her wares in my waters of infatuation, All that swims the path of the seas of passion, in mine they desist, For she alone I let! This African W.O.M.A.N I so drool! Yet, the smile of a stone! Warmness by her is a dead valley, for she is an ice-queen! As heat is reduced by the shadow of a cloud, so the expressions of suitors her way are stilled by she! Even the islands in the sea are terrified at...