A Prayer

O Thou, 
who's beauty be comparable to none.

I pray in hope you grace me with thy presence
For ever since you left, my heart is a desolate one;
For it has taken to hiding behind a fence
So as not to take offence
When thy love i cannot sense.

Has Heaven from me stripped her favour
That i no longer revel in thy splendour?

If indeed it be so,
Then truly i drown in sorrow
And look not well upon the morrow
For in it, you i never saw.

If indeed it be false
Then to me return, despite all else
And once again witness, the rise of my pulse
When you enter our house
And within me arouse
The desire to make you my spouse.

Oh, My Love;
Who's beauty be comparable to none.

I pray all else turns out right
So to me you return at once
For ever since you left
My heart is a desolate one.

Nothing is stronger than habit.


Bradley, Brandon and Butlet.

Bradley, Brandon and Butlet
Bike beneath bridges
burn't by being bold.

Bradley, Brandon and Butlet
Banter badly,
By the back of black alley.

Bragging brazenly,
Because they
Bonded with blondes.

Boys believing babes
Be the bane to their pain.
Bastards! Busy blessing brothels.


Bradley, Brandon and Butlet
Brothers, from another mother
Became blue beneath bland weather.

Bradley; became bored
Before bothering bottles.
Bellowing; for beer in bars
Beating bunks, before basking
Blissfully behind brews.

Brandon; broke bones at random.
Brought, back-handed blows to foes
But believed benevolence binds brothers.

Butlet; brushed blushes aside
Braked busses beside bushes 
And busted better then before.


Bradley, Brandon and Butlet
Breathe by breeding bread.

Bred by bleeding blood
Beware, the banner
Of bad manners.

But be-aware, that these boys
Don't play fair.


Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,

but by the moments that take our breath away.


Did I Really?

Did i really,
Dream of you?
Or was it simply 
A figment of my fantasy?

Did i really,
Caress your lips with my own?
Did you and i really roam,
These sandy beaches hand in hand?

Did i really?
See you through the moon,
And hoped to see you soon?
Though it was still afternoon
And you'd just left;
Was i right,
To moon over you?
Like a satellite
Hoping you set my life alight.

If indeed i did,
Really dream of you.
Then i pray
That you eclipse my dreams
And sweep me beneath the tide of reality.

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues,

but the parent of all others.


The Land of Mend and Bend

Was neither good
Nor bad.
I woke from bed
feeling slightly sad
that my dream went mad
but was more than glad
That i still fed
From the fruits of this land.
This land, that offers a blend
of mend and bend.

Eyes open to the skies
I see the immense size
Of this dome
Beneath which lies my home.

This unforgiving land
On which grow the trees.
Where one might sail the seven seas
Was never made to keep you on your knees
Nor to please you in your ease.

Try to set sail
And you’ll return to regale-
Us with a tale
That could make the masses wail.
In this land
One needs a strong will
To sail the seven seas
That can easily seize
Your wish to arrive-
Home in one piece.

When the High Seas cease
To appear pleased
That your ease
Was blown away with ease
By a mighty breeze
And the storm conformed
To tread thunder your way
Hoping that you blunder
Your way out of wonder.
This land will make you ponder
Why you decided to wander
Outside of your border.

This land is chaos and order
In no specific order
All geared towards making you stronger.

But what happens when
You’re standing by the stern
With waves ready to condemn
And sharks circling in?

When waves of worry
Wash away visions of glory
And crash against your sure
Seeking to keep you from shore
And to leave you on the sea floor
Drowning in your flaws?

You may feel like throwing in the towel
When the land makes you scowl
As you prowl-
With eyes of an owl
How exactly to keep the ground
Beneath your feet sound.

When the sky rumbles
And the earth trembles.
You’ll find yourself wanting to grumble
And muffle a mumble when you stumble
Upon the bundle
That stayed you from the mantle.

When your hopes fall prey
To the predators that stray
Into the place were we stay
Till way past after we lay
For having a good day.
You’ll find yourself wanting to say
That nothing will ever be okay.

This land is old.
This land is proud.
And also very loud.
It will crowd-
You beneath a cloud
Of your own doubt
So that you might-
Opt to adopt
An attitude of negativity
Towards reality.

This land is a force, it is gravity
That cares not for pretty or witty.
Kind and greedy
Independent or needy
You will fall to its gravity
Because it knows no sympathy.

This land is clay
It will mold-
Your plans for the future
Into a sculpture
That remains unsure
Of its pure nature.

What happens when a forest fire
Leaves your crops dire?
When it raises the level of your ire
Until you tire
Of growing them any higher?
Will your mind sire-
Sentiments that hire
The services of thoughts
That leave you in a mire?
Or will we be left to admire
The will of your desire to inspire.

When dawn decrees the rise
Of your perceived demise
And makes you realize
That what your eyes
See for truth is lies
That leave you wanting a disguise
So you never see the skies.

Will you accumulate dust
When dusk
Tries to bask
In the hardening of your task?
Or will you mask your lust
That from here you want to bust?

What happens when
The lightning lights
Your peaceful night
And sets your dreams in a fright
So that you want to take flight
And just end the fight
Thinking that perhaps the light
Was never ever your right?

When the peaks of Mountains
May seem too far to reach
Coz you’re no longer rich
In mental clarity
And deprived of the physical energy
Needed to keep yourself upright.

And when finally
You sag your shoulders in pain
Falling boulders-
Seeking to crush you in shame
So that you want to blame
The land for your pain.
Know, face with an unknown name
That that pain will one day be the bane
That aids you gain

No one can give you better advice than yourself.


Hey guys; thanks a milli for visiting my blog and taking the time out to read these figments of my imagination. I know my rhyme schemes are silly and perhaps a little willy but i really appreciate your appreciation for my passion.

In the name of silly things, make me the giddiest poet alive by following, liking and commenting on this joke of a page.

The Journey Begins

Hey, thanks a myriad for joining me. You know not how deeply thrilled i am to have you with me as i journey through the realms of creativity in the hope of tickling your imagination. I realise that your adoration for Art and my love for words has culminated in the collision of our lives at this point in time. Hence i ask-as only a humble poet can-that you open your mind and try to find it in your heart to take satisfaction from my Art.

I pray in my heart that you have a splendiferous a time as i, and hope that you might be inspired to take my words to heart. Your love for poetry, prose and all things creative is what led me down the path of starting a blog, and so i cannot thank you enough for the opportunity bestowed upon me. As a result, i have deemed it a personal challenge of mine to compose art that seeks to tread into your heart and leave you with something of deeper value.

Our future, as seen in my minds eye is steeped in the company of great poetry, prose and satire. And though i know how challenging it will be to keep your hearts sated, i take solace in the fact that one day we shall look back towards this day and see it as but the genesis of our blissful relationship.

And please, feel free to comment with some much needed constructive criticism and perhaps a word of praise here and there.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton