Category Archives: Ethereal

Mispelled Pleasure

You may not be in love
But you’re hypnotised
Hooked the moment your eyes met my waist

The roll of my hips
The softness of my bottom lip, the flick of the top
The weight of my legs

You fell under my spell
And I fell for the feel of your hands and touch of your skin
The rise of your chest and the grunt of your breath
As my leg hung mid-air
I realised I could not control this spell
And the curse of Want that was to follow

All control was lost and I began to fall for my own spell

I began to beg
For my leg to wrap around your waist
To feel your lips on my neck
I became weak in ecstasy all because of you

All in want of you.

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3 Retrogrades & A Sleeping Venus

Floating

We hold hands as we look down at the lights

Our laughter fills the air

We thought we could roam forever

But soon our laughter stopped

and the breeze grew too strong

We lost our bearings, and all that was familiar to us became distant to us.

Our hands became clammy

Now, unattached, we float through life as though lost in a black-hole

The smell of burning trees leading me to you whimsically

 

A presence I cannot see or (that I) hide if need be

you became an inconvenience

An unwelcome being.

 

As I touch base, I look up and see you perched on top of a mountain

I call out

send directions

Yet you refuse to accept the end of our floating dispositions

 

Even though we no more hold hands, we still hold the strings to each other’s heart

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Dream Error 404

It’s pitch white

Too bright to see a thing

And their laughter surrounds me

Weakening me at the knees

I can barely breathe

 

Every laugh they make

Is a step my feet falter to make

All that is before me disappears

My dreams, nothing but fantasies I can’t recreate

So the whispers grow stronger, as my mind regurgitates all that is before it

 

No soul. No hate.

 

And yet I force myself to move, before I am late

Family values and niceties await me

I’ll come back to face my fears later

But first, let me dress right.

 

I’d rather evoke envy than become prey.

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Sensual Muse

In a mansion
Not built with the reflection of my fears
But with the deception of my hardened exterior

Mahogany walls carved with the old money
Of generations
Culture hanging off the walls
In painting and a sculpture’s posture

And in the middle of The Room

A sea of water lies
Defined by limits
Only within the mind

Hues of powder pink and blue form
A light shining out of the souls of those
the water contains

Lovers expressing freedom
with no constraint
No shame in their identity
Nothing to gain in pretense

But freely giving
A fear of affection
Drowning
At their own volition

Feelings deep
Within the pit
of our stomachs
Expressions of acceptance
The budding of love

Bubbles of fear
Leave my mouth
As I give myself up
To your exploration
The sensation
of you
so sincere

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The Dragon or The Phoenix

Sometimes I wonder
Am I a Dragon
Or am I The Phoenix

Do I posses
The willpower
To restart
my life over?
Do I receive
Death, as a healing
Instead of a devouring?

Am I absolute
In my existence
In my mind
And my encourage
Or am I fairytale creature
Brought to life
Only when
A Heroine wishes to strike?

I do not know
which I am
But I do know
Which I wish
to become

I wish to become The Phoenix
To die
Many deaths
Without truly passing
away in my mind
To renew my mind
When old ways
have passed
To wear a coat
more beautiful
than any angel or bird

I choose to be
The best
I can be
Through renewal
and rebirth
Through the sacrifice
of the dead cells
in my heart

I wish
To free
My soul

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Magdelene the Siren

Am I like Magdalene?
If I am, I have been her since I was young
Only no white garment or exorcism was enough
No stinging water, no oil thrown hard enough
To cast the demons that were displaced upon me

My soul is forever heavy
Lilith that swims amongst the sea breeze
I take no prisoners for the sea has already captured me
The sailors are the ones that use me
Yet when they try to cling to me
I capture their soul with my talons and drag them with me
Into the abyss
And hold up a mirror to their soul
So they can see they have lost all control
And their inequity they can run from no more

The true sullied and decrepid nature of a man’s soul
Grotesque and seeping
with pus filled sores
By the million ways he has tried to curb his pain
with a vile sword

There is no honour in creating a Magdalene
In ravishing a siren
You should have committed seppuku

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All My Hues of Blue

It’s all hues of blue

The blue in the sky on a monotonous winter day
The blue of the ocean when I catch a ferry
The blue of the vein on your neck as we make love sweetly
The blue-black of your skin that makes me want to taste, lick and hold it
The blue of her eyes as she smiles and faces the world confidently
The blue of the adire, of the batik and of the kampala
The blue of my people
The blue of my Grandma and of the benin eyes of my Grandpa

The blue-grey of the London pavement as my cheeks are overrun with tears

The blue, black and grey that my soul vies to hear

It’s all these hues of blue that represent my love and my fears.

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Mad Alice

I didn’t mean to tumble
I didn’t mean to fall
Down this hole that I abhor

I fell past the jeers of mocking laughter
The years of paintings and sculptures that alluded me
Past the grabbing hands of old lovers
Past the intrusive stare of failed ones

Choking on fumes of marijuana
And being deafened by the music that represents years of trauma
Past my mother’s knowing but silent gaze
And passed all my past foolish mistakes

I fell and I fell
Till I saw the future of my pain if I allowed my life stay the same
The tedium and the regret
The bitterness and the ways I recollect, shards of a dream I broke over and over again

Yet, there’s a little door out of this hole
The albino rabbit knows, that’s why he shoved me down here in hope
To face my fears and fight them and finally admit that I can truly run through the snow
No matter how bitter and cold, I should always know that those fears of the white rabbit’s hole don’t hold all the control

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House of Mirrors – Enemy Within

As I wake up in a dream, sheaths of sheer organza are wrapped around me
Draped around the bed, cascading beautifully

I am ance again in the mansion of mirrors
This time to face a true reflection of me
Find this woman who has been locked away since she was a child.

So I run through the adorned house
It’s decorated now.
Damask and floral wallpaper
Marble columns
And renaissance art.

My feet find the corridor of All That I Am, who I was and who I could be.
I walk past many reflections of me
Then I finally see her.

Trapped within a 10ft long gilded mirror. Silver.
Wearing a white long cloak
A hood over her head. And over her eyes.

And so I scream and shout
Beg for her to come to me.

A tear falls down her cheek. The corridor grows cold.

I am desperate now.
I begin to the smash at the glass with my bare hands
Throwing my weight, for my destiny lies within it

My hands bleed, it slowly cracks
splinters of glass hit my eyes, I can see my breath
She reaches out to me, feeling her freedom too

With a final rush of my fists, I break through effectively
Draw her through and hold her to me.

I slowly turn to ice and she becomes me.

I have finally broke the cycle, I have finally gotten rid of my arch-enemy.

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A Salvation So Bleak

Just another sip, crisp and like vinegar in taste
I’m so close. Numb me just a little bit more. Cause my body to hit the floor.
I want to feel closer to comatose. Lusting for death, the existence of a whore.

I should feel shame at the pain
At the desperation
At how little this makes me gain
But I can do nothing but beg for more, to gain that temporary satisfaction
Bring me closer to my grave
Numb my sense and make me forget my existence upon this plane, this organised mass of dirt
It is the reason for my demise, my clotted lungs and strain on my nape

My soul is tired of the demons that dance around me
who kick out my knees for fun, in a merry-go-round about me
A pain I feel even when hope shines gently out my eyes like twilight
I’m not truly able to escape its tide
All of my hope becomes undone – this is what makes my existence feel like ice.

Black wings descend upon me
I think it is death – finally some respite
But it is my Angel’s wings come to protect me.
He looks just like me – no caricature of whiteness. The bleakness of his wings showing me the depths of the turmoil I feel within. He cares for me.
He believes in me and all that I stand for and will not stand for weight of guilt to bury me
Even the demons I flaunt explicitly, he does not shy away from them but makes them worship me.

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