WE GREW UP.

There was the uncertainty,
the huge cloud looming over young impressionable souls as we learned to walk,
as we spoke for the first time to ask for more,
more food,more life and more love.

We grew up,
we came up curved by the knife of life,
we were shaped into the blocks of hardened granite,
the kind of hardness that dims your soul.
But we grew up.

Watching the world try to find itself,
we skate in the outlying corners of has been's,
of those who flew too close to the sun or didn't fly at all.
We lived in those holes where the light is limited and the nights,always cold.

When they said life was for all of us,we laughed,
we didn't know ,
We didn't know that life chose us too.
We didn't know about the sisters of fate or the father of destinies charm.

We grew up still,
Hard and soft.
Weak and strong.
Our stomachs growled,the elements never calmed,we had to.

kyalo.

THE BUTCHER’S THIN DOG

The days are spent in the shadows,
away from the daylight customers who hate flies,
who sneer at their very own inadequate children as they act themselves.
The thin dog knows to stay away as the pretenders pretend.

The daylight takes away the people with the flashy clothes,
the wayward guffaws and the empty wallets
as pretenders whisper their pleas to the butcher as they hold their children's greasy hands.
The thin dog salivates as the bones are wrapped up in neat piles.

Evening and night,the dog appears tail wagging,bones protruding,
He licks the drunks rough hands,
he is patted by the swindlers with the silver rings,
they know him,even as they throw half eaten bones to him.

They smile together,
Laugh in the darkness and smoke,
as the butcher listens to their escapades.
The flies dance in the air as goat heads crack and stew is cooked with peppers.

The thin butchers dog dances under their heavy feet,
table shaking as they fight and arm wrestle.
The dog still wags it's tail in the melee,
He knows his master gets his due and always leaves him be where he belongs.


                                                                                                            kyalo.

IN MY HEAD.

I live there sometimes,
when the days drag on,
when the nights are long and the spark of light calls
I sit there,i listen to the call

She calls me,the founder,
the genius of light that starts it all.
I sit there,she working her magic with my flawed thought.
I sit there and listen.

She speaks to me,she urges me to settle down,
she urges me to calm myself.
She knows i am lacking,
she knows i don't stand,i fall.

But yet there she is,
With my life in her hands.
She lays it out to me.
The idea,there she is,it makes sense now.

                                                    kyalo.

IN A KINGDOM BY THE SEA

It was may years ago,
in a kingdom by the sea
that an angel lived with no other thought
than to love and be loved by me.

She was young,i was young
in this kingdom by the sea
but we loved with a love that was more than love,
with love that winged angels of heaven.
Coveted her and me.

Tis the reason that in this kingdom by the sea,
a chilling wind blew out of a cloud at night
and bore her away from me,
To silence her up within.

But our love was stronger by far than the love,
of those older or far wiser than we,
and neither the angels in heaven above,
nor the demons down under the sea
can ever separate my soul from thee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
and the stars never rise but from the light in her eyes
and so all the night tide, i lied down by the side
of my darlin,my life ,my pride.
In a tomb,by the side of the sea.

                                                               Tuesday.

WHISKEY BLUES

The heat,
its the heat that called us to each other,
the warmth of familiar scent.
a lost lover's knowing touch.

we lay there,
looking at each other,
searching for meaning,
reason for this forbidden perfection.

A breeze breaks through,
goosebumps riddle her perfect skin,
as i trace her curves,
her pulsating beauty within my reach.

''This is the last time,"'
she says to herself,or maybe to me.
we lay there entangled,
hearts beating to the whiskey blues.

                                               kyalo.

WE LAUGH TOGETHER

That rendezvous drinking hole,
where the smoke is thick,
the air is dank and the light is low,
we gather like tired dying moths hiding from the cold.

''Musau got fired yesterday,''
Jackson retorts.''He has to run away from his crazy wife now.''
We nod,faces hunched over in subjugation.
A good day to have a drink.

The cycle continues as the beer wagons run up and down,
we drink the sorrows,
we drown the pain,
The midnight calls as we all stagger back to our personal hells.

''Hey bro,i have to tell you something,''
my friend beckons as the busty woman lays down our brews.
''I believe we survived another grueling day you shit,''he grins,
and we laugh together.

kyalo.

I CAN’T DIE.

They follow me everywhere,
clawing at my heels,
burning my smoke ridden lungs
as i run for a life i never wanted

I can't die,
even as they put the rope around my neck
i know in my heart of hearts,
i can't die.

Looking up,
a flaming wild African sky
i think of all the faces that came before me,
as many as tears from the sun.

My fate sealed,
i stand on the block of maybes and what ifs,
all my hours spent contradicting my very existence.
I strain to balance on lies as the noose tightens.

whispering through a raspy voice
i try to muster a last stand.
Reason kicks the block from under me
''I can't die,its not my time.''

kyalo.



HE LIVES…

He walks
He laughs
He talks with him
He lives with him

He's strong
He's bold
He's not human to begin,
he's extraordinary,not like him.

He's strong
He's weak
He loves to seek
To be there and see.

He'll grow 
He'll see
He'll feel sorrow and sin,
I'll try to be just like him.

I'll walk and laugh
I'll be strong and bold
I,ll even sin,sin more than him.
I'll live to feel
I'll love and see
until i'm extraordinary and weak
Until i believe he isn't more than me.

                                               kyalo.

DEPTHS.

I know i mustn't,i shouldn't,
its not for me to feel and touch';
the lips to plunge,to drink,
to savage,quench and set free.

They hide something,the depths of bliss,
of untamed horses running through beautiful prairies,
depth less oh so depth less,slight a hand you see
but the fire,the urge so true,really i mustn't.

Emotions overwhelmed,i know i mustn't,
her skin so soft,warm to the feel.
I don't cause i can't,i mustn't you see?!
but she lives in me truly she mustn't.

I wish for the piper,his command to scold and whip,
for i'm lost in the depths of this,
i can't stop looking,its eternal for me.
For she is free,more than i can be.

I will keep these demons locked in me
and only look,smile and please.
I will wait,lurk and seek,
until the depths are found within.

                                                     kyalo. 

PICTURE ON THE WALL

There is this wall,

a whole brick wall

with prickly vines and all,

a barrier to keep him off.





He doesn’t know her face,

he doesn’t care to trace.

For she is there,just there,

a million pieces in the wind.





The lark doth cry in the morn,

the deer doth feed in the clear

and all the little things everywhere

know her laugh,looks and share.

I just stare me,myself and i

conjure up faces to fit her flair,

tis all myself can do til the fog clears,

to see the world in her eyes.

kyalo.