Lebo Bopalamo Poet I do not know?

I Will Write

I cannot write amidst a seething intent
to injure an insulated place,
My thoughts immerse their christened 
desires…
and I abide
 
I cannot write ill of words
unlike my own…
As they foresake undying truth
 
If the will of untruth
delivers my noose,
I will write unhindered…
I will not stay if you say so,
I cannot write of it
with you there
I cannot write abreast of quizzy sands
Every wave intends a riddle
I cannot keep in stride
 
I write it all in simple illusion
and press it in prose
You wear it pale and shadowed
And I shine it in rhythm with its fate
 
Oh how I would love to write
of this moment in a sentence
I write how I would never write again
and deny a crude indecision
I dream sometimes of the things I write
and write of things immemorial
A random string of sounds,
that seems so formal
 
I will stop writing if you tell me now
This life is but for you
I will insist you tell me why…
my guess is that you knew

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