Repeat Business

Love is procreatively recreational.
The beauty of it's recreation is procreation
And because of our need to procreate
We re-create. 
We search for similarity,
For a warmth once felt
From someone who is not present in our past
And yet who's future should feel familair.  

And just as there are single parents,
So too are there single lovers. 
All bellied up with love, unrequited.  
Content with the recreation; 
Filled with what should be good. 

And so we find ourselves there again,
The place we tried to forget.  
In forgeting we do not recognise it is the same road. 
Fimliarity is cruel to love
Yet kind to hate. 

Don't re-create Love
For if you knew what it was, you would still have it 
Find it anew ... Create! 
Even if it's with the same person
Redefine what everyone thinks they know

 

 

Quickly, before you know what's happening

I fall in love, 
Quickly and often
Giving it no chance to manifest
It stays as love
I wish I would fall out of love
As quick and as often
Yet, I sit there, on the chamber
Oblivious to the smell accumulating
And so I become 
Depleted,Dissipated, spent
It's conception worse than it's birth
And yet still I love
Quicker yet less often
And just as I am, I love
Without adjective  

Run little boy...Run!

When i worked in Zambia, my route to work, went through a high density suburb.
The kind that are built close to the road for all to see.

On one such occasion, I witnessed an event which I now find relevantly telling.

A young boy had just commited what I can only assume was a punishable offense
and there, right outside his home, right next to the road, A woman, who I can only assume was His mother, was issuing said punishment by beating him with a broom she had been using to sweep the yard, hoping, I can only imagine, to brush away all his sins as it had the leaves in the yard.

Everytime she hit him, he would be overwhelmed by the pain and run away BUT not out of reach. His mother, purely out of love ofcourse, would catch up and issue more CORRECTIONAL PERSUASION.

As I drove passed I wondered why this boy just didn't run away, then it dawned on me: That was his mother whom he LOVED so much he COULDN'T even COMPREHEND.
She too, LOVED him to the extent that she believed her actions, though harsh, could be separated from her love or worse still, perhaps, taken as a show of love.
The boy was at home, where he BELONGED and as such could not run anywhere as he would soon have to return.
And this, was all on display, for all to see, interpret and have an opinion about.

Today, I find this story relevant, in love, especially of those that hurt us and continue to do so.
I hope, someday, like the little boy, we will use these 'beatings' to shape our lives and soon, grow enough to love, leave,let live and find a new home.
'Far from the madding crowds ignoble strife'

Puppy Love

A night club is not the best place to try and pick up women.
Think about it, the music is too loud for you to speak in full, clever,enticing sentences and
By the time you see that oh so special girl, she's seen so many of you that she doesnt know who the real slim shady is -
Even if i stand up!
And because of the sheer number of shady's shes had to deal with, she will assume she knows what I'm about, what i'm going
to ask, what I want, and beleive it or not, she does - There are only so many variations of incomplete sentences available.
How do you convey your desire for a woman in a look from across the dancefloor without staring?


when I smile you snear
when I speak, you can not hear
when I compliment, you jeer

do you remember a time

Where you could smile at a girl and she would smile back
Where descriptions of eyes, smiles and style were the only way to mack
Where a nigth out involved slow jams and you could slow dance
Where you could show you were together just by holding hands
Where you needed a dark place so noone would see you kissing
So you always went to movies and you called it smooching
and you didnt have popcorn cause it would get into your teeth and that would
be a bad idea if you were going to kiss someone
Where courting was about how much you liked a person "I really Like you"
where you worried about what you'd say not what you'd pay


Bring back those simple times

But who shall bring them back?
If not I, then who?

My first love - How sweet it was.
We got excited when we saw each other to the extent that
we could see the excitement in each other.
I remember getting those letters on that papaer that they all wrote on.
With smudges from where she had sprayed her perfume.
No sex, just a lot of kissing and feeling of boob
(I cant ever remember fondling both of her breasts for some reason)
I remember, vividly, going to her 'O' Level dance and just siting and doing nothing
Holding hands, hugging...Loving, even though at that stage I don't think we knew what it was.
And then at the end of the night, going home - in fact we didnt even know how we were going
home, cause that didnt even matter. Me and my mates walked from that school, all the way down second
street extension and it didnt matter.

I'm even smiling typing this out.

Love is the answer

The next girl I have (or more importantly is gracious eough to have me) is gonna get it big time!

I Know Love

This can't be love i'm feeling, It hurts too much.

I know Love, I've felt it

When will it end?

I know Love, it wont leave me

We loved, ever so dearly, yet still fiercly,

We loved ever so loudly, piercingly permanant.

Who the fuck did we think we were?

Loving as if we would never love again!

I know love i've touched it

And now I can not Love again?

For fear of not loving as I did with you

Or is it for fear of hurting as i did with you

If you were 'The one' will there be no other

Am I allowed to love this much more than once?

I know love I've experienced it

And now we're flirting with the idea of 'us' again

The possibility of feeling again, loving again

Who the fuck do we think we are?!

If we've both changed and are different people, 

People that wont commit the same mistakes, 

- then are we still compatible.

Can such love be repeated?

I know Love, I recognize it

I wish my thoughts were as clear as my actions.

I wish you knew what I mean and not what I say.

I wish you didnt have the power to hurt me

I wish you didnt know everything about me

I wish we were faithful

We'd avoid all the apprehension and maybe,

Just maybe, Love like we've never loved before

You dont wanna know love like I do

Ignorance is bliss

Love is blissful

The best love to be had is the kind that is Blisfully Ignorant.

Women

I love them, I really do.

 Well Most of them. Most parts of them...

...Their supple breasts, pert asses, slim waists, smooth skin, soft lips.

I just wish their brains were the same

Supple - easy, responsive adaptable

Pert - Boldly forward in speech and behaviour

Slim - small in quantity or amount

Smooth - Free from projection and unevenness

Soft - easily penetrated 

But no, life would be too simple then, wouldn't it!

Instead, as a man, who loves women I get the total opposite.

Surely I should get some sort of 'cash back'  for being good to them (most of the time).

Instead I get riddles, ultimatums, suspicion, questions.

Guilty until I prove myself.

Guilty until I figure out that all the hypothetical and impartial comments will always relate to us.

Guilty until even though I've chosen you I not only advise the world but reject them as well.

Guilty until I realise the suspicion created by all my actions or, worse still, inaction's.

Guilty until I learn to answer before I'm questioned (without raising suspicion)

I'm guilty, but I have a good case, I hope they find me innocent.

Women...

I still love them though, I really do.