A bore hole of fantasy once you dig deep in your mind
Ennui converts into Feng Shui
All you need is a dustpan and brush to sift through your pain
Some archaeological DIY tools
Become a geologist and mine your very own thoughts
Explore tedium and lassitude malaise and confusion
Search for gold dust among the ruins of weariness
Forage for contentment meaning and reason
Beware of alchemy and doomed prophets hanging from false ceilings above
Precious ink from your fountain needs time to sink in
Loneliness bears the potential for solitude and completion
Side effects are intended results
Submerge yourself in an ocean of unlimited reflection
Dive carefully but you must take the plunge
Hold your breath when you reach the sediment of your emotions
But decompress your melancholy sorrows
The anchor of hope awaits the mariner draped in sea weed and love
An octopus guides to an eight fold noble path
I am not drowning but waving in private resolve gratitude and peace
At times upside down but buoyant as a kite in the sky
03rd March 2020
Categories:
bore hole, inspiration,
Form: Free verse
A known politician
Like the bed bug, they bite
Anything that comes their sight
Without being given the right
They are well known for earning more than a stipend
But they always fend
More than what they would spend
Like the weevil, they bore hole
Into the nations credit zone
So that they could be financially mellow
Like the peripatetic soldier ant
They walk down our girls pant
Without having for them a penchant
Like the African wasp, they sting
The decent girls that shun their ping
Because they know they have for them no ring
Like the green mantis
They send insurgents
To kill and crush our people in a blitz-Krieg
And pretend in their political vicarage
As if they are unaware of the carnage
Like the golden eagle, they have carte blanche
To fly around the world and eat a la carte
Without remembering that one day the court will visit their case
Like kite, they go to greater height
Without remembering there would be a night
That every movement will come to halt
And that day they will be starved for nights
And they will be left to fight to right
To bite the carrion in sight
And beg for their death to set
Categories:
bore hole, allegory,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
I think these wounds are now too deep
I can feel them itching within my heart
The pain so unbearable
The dreams
The wishes
The lust
Are killing me
Each time I see you on that bore hole
pumping water from the rocks too deep
your soft skin unveiling
For me see
To crave
To die for
The way you move up and down
lures my soul to come close to stare
At the thigh curvature
The magma
Cozy eyes
flesh apples
And listen
to the soft
charming
voice
That makes
My heart
beat
skip
And Then
Death starts
When you
Smile at
me
and give
me
fragile
hand
for me
To
Feel
I am
Dieing
Softly
Categories:
bore hole, beautiful, beauty, i love
Form: Concrete