Monday 16 January 2012

Letters to Myself....To be who I am To who Iam Not.

If I could fit at the top of a mountain line,
I would seat and watch the world intertwine,
As people whined and sighed over life's unforgiving signs,
I would seat and watch as they intertwined,
As people burst in the confusion and twirled in inconclusive illusions,
I would seat and watch as they intertwined.
I wish so desperately for seconds in a day to be alone,
To remind myself of what I am in my soul,
For confinement in my mind rediscovering that person sole....LY,
Never letting go of what I have been told,
To chew and swallow all that the world throws,
Whether hot or cold.
Because around all these demons,
You forget your cute little ribbons
of innocence, that transform into little horns,
Of deceit,
Numerous characters of you you have built,
To paint little mirages of deceit,
Numerous tongues you have slipped,
Little words of deceit,
To deceive the demons,
But you only deceive yourself.
You are who you are when alone,
Unbathed by flowery scented oils that mask your odour,
Untouched by airs beyond your vacuum that blow away your delicate leaves,
So if I could seat at the top of a mountain line,
I would sing with the birds,
Breath with the trees,
Fly with the clouds,
For we would be who we really are.

Kavosa Assava

Sunday 15 January 2012

Letters to Myself....The Sad Feeling

I started off writing this poem about someone,
But then I lost myself on line one,

So I lay on my back,
Staring at the stars,
And it was like staring at something that twinkles from afar,
But when near...fades...dwindles,

It was like staring at something that,
Could have been,
Should have been
But wouldn't be... will never be,

So I lay on my back,
When I should be prostrate on your heart,
Feeling its beat inches away like it was mine,
Feeling that heat of undying love,

However, it is fine,
Because maybe that feeling,
Of every beat speaking,
Of something,

Something so deep,
So steep,
One cannot overclimb, overcome,
Or claim over time,

Was too much a painful flame,
I would not be able to understand,
Appreciate or love in its time, or..
Over time,

And I am so sad...so sad,
So mad...so mad....so sad,

I started off writing this poem about someone,
But instead I lay on my back,
Staring at the stars,
That could have been,
Should have been,
But...I am so sad.

Kavosa Assava