Little darling, thy fada wears a garland of frowns,
The breda must explain their jokes to him across the night,
Worry devours his heart,his wallet emptied of light,
Fallen sistrins and soaring debts weigh him down.
Parasitic friends,the firewater that hauls him down,
Your mada' open relationship haunts him without end
You poor black girl,his paternal duty no hand can mend,
So little darling,mockingbird sings sagacity' gentle crown.
'' Motivate him'',cries nightingale,'' seek angels that heel,
Set calm and clear,boundaries firm and the rule of right,
Recall the days when Rastafari made his soul bright ,
Technicalized guidance cuts through despair and anger's steel.
Sistren and fada ,simmer down a little bit,sooth the strife,
And read The Holy Piby for blessings in holy Jah life''
Glossary of Useful non pompous English terms:
Fada-father
breda-brother
sistrins -sisters
mada--mother
Rastafari--the best religion
technicalized-professional
Holy Piby-Bible of Rastafari
Have you ever smelled fresh lilacs
after blooming in the spring
Have you heard the song of a morning dove
while gently swaying on a swing
Have you ever watched a bald eagle soar
majestically in the sky
Have you noticed the shapes of the clouds
as they slowly rolled on by
Have you ever watched a sunset
that made the tears fall from your eyes
Have you ever smiled at the moon
then suddenly wondered why
This beauty which surrounds us
is amazing in every way
From the tulip to the daffodil
I hope you can see it everyday
August 6,2020
Nature Rhyming Poetry Contest
sponsor: Breda Chiri
THE CANDLE
candles gulp and flicker
in a new altitude
old caves of crazy
waxed out warning
stars
plummeting to their
dark new address
less stressed
than before
in absence I revolve
shrouded in my resolve
of deceitful sheets
a constellation
shattered rainbows
and chandelier
antiques
© Kim van Breda
COSTLY
binding and blinding
pale and fluorescent
under white silk
parted
her skin seethes
fleshy and full
incandescent
like mist off sea
sticky and costly
something out of nowhere
taut blue skin of water
an absentee
lost but free
he is hypnotized
by perfection as
she rolls her soles
against a cold
unyielding wall
curved feminine
legs that beg
for instant
answers
something out of nowhere
taut blue skin of water
an absentee
lost but free
© Kim van Breda
LIFE
so yeah...
I guess
the bottom line is :
I am a complicated
confused cliché
educated
in self-preservation
I no longer require
your approval
…or denial
for that matter
perhaps just
some inspiration
and support
every now and then
this pit-stop
we call ‘life’
that we take so seriously
worry about continuously
is only a small
over the weekend
jail sentence
compared to what will
come with death
Life...
isn’t nearly as
sacred as the
appreciation
of passion…
at the end
© Kim van Breda
SATED PROSE
when I had no roof
I made you my floor
when I crawled
you came to my
rescue through
my sky door
you are the muse
I choose to pursue
you infuse my soul
when I had no eyes
I listened to you
when I had no ears
you talked me through
stitched up my wounds
with music to sooth
you are the muse
I choose to pursue
you infuse my soul
when I had no mind
you gave me yours
when I had no tears
left to cry you
painted a well
in my heart of
sated prose
you are the muse
I choose to pursue
you infuse my soul
© Kim van Breda—1 May 2016
sitting upon the rocks
oval bleached souls
with stone hearts
watching the waves rise
thoughts drift away
into another world
obscured
by cryptic currents
on the crest you sit
on the tempest
long-haired temptress
enticing with
your mermaid vice
crashing waves carpet
galloping onto sands
the white steed crashes
as sea lime backslides
salt upon this earth
breathe wild and free
I hear the seagulls cry
echoing off cliffs where
white skull prey lays
one moment smiling
then washed away
I found my Shangri-La
amidst black tidal pools
of misted mirrored pearl
drops that fall then stop
breathing in sea air
leaving a little love
upon the golden sands
a sailors burial ground
in the emerald Isle
© Liam McDaid/Kim van Breda—March 2016
Oh sweet flower of passion
Baby your body is a movie theater spotlights
One star shining brightly beautiful light
Burning inside hot flames
Every moment special
Singing heaven finds an angel
In you
How deep the silver lining
Softening the silence on a temperate breeze
Two hustled tears that ignite and alight
Floating on gilded tides
Leaving the literal
Bringing essence birthing changes
Anew
© Co write Liam McDaid/Kim van Breda
IMPERFECTIONS
why do they want you more
now that you have left than
they have ever wanted
you before
does the pain of you leaving
give them some kind of
perverse pleasure
are they more afraid of living
than of dying alone the
way you chose to go ?
it’s no accident…
songs that sell
the most are sad
sidetracking
bouncing beams
deflecting
realities
we need to know
© Kim van Breda—18 January 2016
PEOPLE WHO DON’T SAY GOODBYE
people who don’t say goodbye
are born this way and this is
how they die
keepers of promises
hearing the fake on your
take and turning it
into an original copy
a lifetime of open doors
holding on before the
letting go
strangers who need
strangers lighting
candles of loyalty
tearing clocks apart
these are the people
we meet in the dark
© Kim van Breda—18 January 2016
SKIMMING
surface like glass
tight thin ice
below a
whirlpool pulls
in too deep
an elapsed
Soul
skimming the face
of words left
in neutral
swirl vortex
shallow low
down beneath
Scroll
throwaway
pointless
empty
Hollow
© Kim van Breda—17 January 2016
COLD FACTS
ugly truth…
snow-whites dwarves
worked in a betting
shop and wore
dresses for fun
the ugly sisters
were neither ugly
sisters or even
woman so not
remotely…
interested in
prince charming
bombs are not fitted
with clocks. They explode
spontaneously
like requisitioned cars
that nosedive into
a ravine and blow up
killing the handsome sheriff
and all his sidekick
cowboys that quell his
dreams
© Kim van Breda—15 January 2016
BLANK
blank face
blank stare
blank wall
blank fear
white glare
I disappear
man at my back
100’s in my hair
a 1000 peg legs
I disappear
receptions polite desk
not all knives are in
museums behind glass
shaped like a deckchair
I disappear
first ripples in the marble
façade tame bird in hand
wristbark notched six times
I disappear
past nude whiteblue beaches
flockflooded esplanades
into chill lensed telescopes
I disappear
blank face
blank stare
blank wall
blank fear
white glare
drowning in my
sea again
I disappear
© Kim van Breda—15 January 2016
PIERCED
we grow together
and know not why
scarlet crevices
mementos that bind
and hide the world till
all are blind and left
behind with pierced
hearts and threads of
blood that line the sins
that we define
© Kim van Breda—13 January 2016
BENEATH SILK SHEETS
right where we belong
everything around us
an elaborate dream
beneath silk sheets
just for now
for now
now
unique moments in time
where we speak our minds
cradled in arms of flight
entwined in mutual delight
just for now
for now
now
spoken words desert
toward the vast escapes
of another realm in
times and tides ebbing
just for now
for now
now
silk touches sentiments
our very own nettled
conversation ardor
no more hidden armor
just for now
for now
now
© Kim van Breda—12 January 2016
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