Ramblings about Pain on a Toilet Seat

Today I thought I would try something different… a different ‘creative’ environment if you must.

I’m in the toilet with my laptop on a stool (oh my, pun NOT intended) as I listen to Tinashe Makura’s ‘Love and Laughter’.
As comic as my position may seem; I’m not laughing. I have the worst case of food poisoning which sends me to the bathroom more often in an hour than I’d like to count.

 So, in light of the liquid condition of the contents of my guts (Euww that’s really crude Steph!)… I’ve made myself rather comfortable in the loo...

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Pain…at most it’s an indescribable gnawing nuisance. When my mum asks “ko chii ko nhai Hamu?” for the life of me I want to explain. To tell her I’m paralysed with pain. That I don’t want to move because sometimes I think the little bitch (pain and definitely NOT my mum) waits until there a sanctimonious nano-moment of relief and like a heartless ninja her dagger strikes again.
 I forget she’s been at this life game a whole lot longer than I have (My mum this time)... I forget that though I can only signal my feelings she not only feels it with me then…she’s felt it countless times before.
But it’s not easy is it?
To know that you are not the only victim of life…to know that  you have no excuse …that you can’t play the helpless damsel of distress because many have come before you felt this and even greater excruciations; overcome them and didn’t have the time to be arsed long enough to even to tell the tale. And I sit here on a toilet seat … thinking “hey it could be worse” and how comfortable it is in here.
 It’s a funny little thing this big thing named life. #TSKC

The Black Widow

Give me a taste of it… it’s seasoned, savory and yet mostly sweet.
I have wanted it a long time…
that longing from within …
An echo beyond the loins…
Empty.

Don’t make me take because I will…
My flair for warfare taunted into action
I instead was hopeful for oppression
Alas my kind can only conquer,
We weave webs of deceit and self gratification
There needn’t be smoke and mirrors
Why must you make me?

Be myself, true to my inner core, animal instincts, bare…bare minimums …down to earth that then turns to nothing.
 I weave around you translucent threads of pleasure as you endure.
Longer than you thought you could.
That which they have called monogamous.
 I the widowed queen and you my willing subject of amusement in a hellish moment best spent under covers.
You my dear are fortunate to be alive, heavy panting, these your only breaths.
You are tattered and yet…you remain close.
Not as an enemy but as a host to wild ramblings and imaginations
 Self imprisoned in a well padded snare you well knew was there.
 To be fair I brought us here.
 Without a care I warned I would take what ought to have been mine.
Normality restored as you my subject and I your queen. 
#TSKC

Stand

What is it about me you adore?

Is it too significant to ignore?

I don’t carry myself lightly,

Even if people and surrounding things try smite me into oblivion,

Yet still I carry on.

Tormented loneliness in my soul,

No, that’s not a window in my eye it’s a gaping hole.

 

Once I lost control,

All for love,

Its loss and echoing emptiness,

I ‘AM’ OUT OF CONTROL!

My emotions are on a roll,

Doing the pantsula, kicking dust in the air,

I breathe in contempt, NO! I am NOT content,

With the best of it,

I guess it’s the rest of me I should be worried about.

 

Once again I’m out and about, wondering,

Where is she?

Where is the one and only,

Whose body is as holy as a temple?

Let’s get rid of this phony,

‘Cause right now I can’t tell…

Is she here with me?

Buried deep under a lot more of me?

I think I met her once her name was Stephanie.

We’d skip gleefully through the dark corridors of life,

Hand in hand,

‘Thicker’ than thieves.

I told her “you have my heart” and she cut off her sleeves.

Dammit! Have you seen  her?

‘Cause it’ll be like bringing in the sheaves when we are finally together.

 

When she comes around,

If…

I’m still hopeful,

Shit! I’m living on a prayer so…

When she comes around,

Crown her…

If your wallet is under

Do it on a budget

Bow down but don’t lie…

Just let her, even for a minute …Stand

Just…let her do it,

For this moment…

 Let her Stand.

 

 

 

 

Poetry From Way Back Then Pt.1

I wrote this back in 2010, barely two years after my sister's death. 

It was a dark,confusing and painful time. 

Worse yet it was a time of faithlessness.  

Here's one snippet of my many my internal fights:

My Internal Ying &Yang

Where there is evil there is good

Where darkness dwells there light to illuminate it

Where you feel love you feel hate

When you revenge you feel remorse

Where there is pure goodness evil is ready to take its place

When I’m happy the darkness creeps in bringing me back down that path

The path...

The path of deep rooted sadness within

How do I stop it?

I keep debating

Should I stop it?

Do I need these emotions?

Do I really want to feel??

If I let it engulf will love ever beseech me again

Its tentacles threaten me

They move suggestively

They entice me

I debate even more so

Do I really truly want to know?

Oh how beautiful the feeling of blackness can be

I know not if I still know the true meaning of beauty

Its version is much more sinister

Perverted and twisted is my new mind

Leave me alone I shout

The light listens

So pure end considerate it can be in such dire moments

You do not even try to dance suggestively

Am I this worthless to you?

You won’t bother to seduce me?

Curses from the grave! For in the pits of my soul I crave goodness

Regardless of how empty and void I may be

I know not what it will be....

I know not how to be

One without the other

Can I love without hate?

Can there be light without darkness

And darkness void of light

Can I be joyful without the slightest sadness?