Ballerina Girl Dressed in Black

Ballerina Girl Dressed in Black So broad your stature Self determination expressed in your faultless latitude Statuesque like Cleopatra A world ahead stretched and expressed by your outstretched arm Balanced on your tippy toes, reaching out to the world yet unknown Known for owning a beauty and talent yet unshelled Unknown to her, her stage faltered and shuttered to no ends beyond her control But yet still she continued to love with all her angelic might and spirit Yes she loved with absurdness beyond her control Little did she know the more she loved, her ballerina world could no longer hung on Her feet with all her might and angst dug deep into the dark bruised dirty world Her dress no longer pink became blackened by the dirty and cruel bedevilled world Her hands scrapped and bled unwillingly letting go off purity, as she sunk deep beyond her control Her life and love for dance got lost and became soulless entrenched in the darkness of life Little did she know she had the choice and willing-fullness to exert herself beyond it all, to still be HER Yes she still could be SELF after falling deep into darkness She still had control to not let "HERSELF", the "I" go Her ballerina shoes could still help her tip toe out of darkness Ballerina girl I echoed beyond the darkness; "Your feet can still move, so let your foot prints pave their way back into life Scrape through and beyond those cold cobbled streets and dance again Ballerina girl dance like you still have control and Exert yourself for your presence to be known yet again Stretch those long arms and spin with force beyond your control Ballerina girl spin and spin back into "your" and "our" world again I see YOU once more again Ballerina girl dressed in pink" . . . no longer blackened and darkened by despair

TEAR DroPs - Another Awakening Moment

Every tear drop becomes valuable

Valuable as gold

It's only takes one second, to awaken to reality until the floods gates open

It only takes one person to say ......."I am waiting for a man who is loveable and friendly as my father to come into my life"

The moment her words ended my reality sunk in- it sunk in deep & cut deep into the bloody core

Realism kicks in, to what is no longer

A love, a memory so vivid

A smile, a laugh so vivid it cuts deep to the core

If only yesterday could be today

Wait a minute, "Dance with my father AGAIN replays yet again, & over and over in my mind like a broken record" 

My mind is dazed

My throat cuts deep 

Alas I have been released by a ladies wish to meet a man like her father;

A father like you 

Little does she know she has released explosive endless flood gates, endless like the river Nile or as you and me envisioned it like Lake Malawi 

At last my tears are free to flow, my emotions are free

As joyous as the freedom is to be able to shed a tear and freely cry; I am reminded yet again of reality

Reality is unreal, surrealism is vivid & a comfort

Snapped back into reality- DAMN

Why or why does it hurt so much

Perhaps this is the freedom I was waiting for all along? ? 

Thanks to Merlot & the lady for my latest awakening moment , I only wish it was not so bitter sweet

Only wish my dream realty remained surreal and realty stayed away

Again thanks to Merlot 3 glasses full thank you, DAMN you, for awakening me

And lady so jealous, for what you wish for in a father is still alive

And I, I am only am left to dream of what could be

Your smile, YES your smile: ) assures me of the reasons for. And reminds me of the reasons why existence is even more so meaningful.

I am reminded without you there would be no me

Oh boy reality has sunk in- this floetry is because of you. My creativity although skewed is because of you

Therefore love you more 

For your existence has allowed for this fluid floetry 

You took me everywhere with you from childhood because you wished for me to know you. Now I am intertwined & so deeply woven in you, so much so I can't rip you off neither would I want to. Now what

I have your eyes, your vision

You and only you can translate the imagery I see of your architectural designs

Surrealism right?

You excited for a reason

That' reason I will actualise through your vision & artistry 

DAMN now I know why you drunk so much 

Creativity is a mind trap 

Like the cancer you once alerted me to

I now see you vividly seating in your your golden thrown

Laughing out loud at once that some lady has let my flood gates open

I see you laughing hysterically, and tapping periodically at your golden chair

You are elated that I have let go & let emotions flood in

DAMN 

Love You Dad Forever more- R.I.P. 

Sent from my iPhone

Moments of Awakening (Dream vs Reality)

"Freud once pointed out that the people who break under the strain of too great success do so because they can endure it only in imagination, not in reality." There are days when it dawns on me that I have awoken to myself yet again. In those moments I am spirited to pursuance of life and my existence in it. I embrace who, I am and who I can be. Moreover acknowledge vividly and without fail how to actualise my full potential. I grasp onto the ideal and my imagination runs wild. Now if I was a painter or a creative artist of some sort, illustrations of all these vivid imaginative thoughts would flow fluidly in seconds and you would be dazzled in amazement. Unfortunately, more than often my failings demonstrate themselves in my inability to actualise my potential. So I continue and linger on with the rest of society. I choose to continue to live in automatic pilot. I watch others mostly TV characters (e.g. directors and artists) and admire their potential and ability to actualise their dreams into some form of reality. My highest skill is being a dreamer and an imaginative creator only in the mind. My reality qualities lay in achieving and climbing up the career ladder. I give more than 100% percent to a professional cause, which pays for my livelihood and nothing beyond greater depth of personal rewards. I am astute to identifying what my skills are, especially analytical skills. The challenge continues on, accompanied with toxic ground hog days. I wake up and excel in the professional arena and utilise my resources until I have minimal capacity for self investment. During downtime, I have nothing remaining or the same level of will to excel myself to achieve just for me. I revert back to the dreamer in me, and dream of a beautiful life and what I could achieve. Now if I dreamt in tangile pictures; you would be amazed at my super capabilities. The me in reality is full of excuses for the reason I could not be the real me. The excuses role out much easier than the doing. Moments of awakening at the most and on a good day last for a full day. That full day could count as a full days labour. If you inspected what I had actually achieved you could quantify only my dreams. In reality my dreams would add no value to me or you without the actualisation. So my question lies what stops me; excluding the toxic excuses? Nothing but only me. The reality is that, what I actually dream I may not want. Or perhaps fear itself stops me; the fear of what I could actually be. I have become accustomed to being a victim of social injustice. Its not about not having any money to invest in actualising a dream. It's more about being accoustomed to being a commodity to a social system consisting of automated robots built to maneuver a repetitive labour conveyor belt with no rewards to self. I imagine the brave self jumping off the belt of labour multiple times. The independent me, in my imagniary world dreams of becoming independent of this automated conveyor labour belt. The rebel in me, imagines walking in the opposite direction of the 9-5 labourers; moreover tap dancing my way out of the social norms and routines. The utlimate freedom of letting go off the social and capital nomalisation, demonstrates itself in being able to wake up everyday enjoying and loving self actualisation. Its about having the flexibility to produce a living without being chained to social norms. When I dream, I certaintly do not dream about sitting at desk, typing away to no end of self reward. There is a rebel in me waiting to explode and ready to unleash myself. My inner voice and dreamy imagination has reached its peak. The painful reality is living everyday with the inner will screaming at you, every sec, every min,every hour and so on. There is only so much mind dumbing a person can take well me, as my mind is forever screaming away. "Wake up you fool, and do something before its too late." Wait for it, the me in reality has a response to this- yet another excuse. "Whats the point anyway, if I die there would be no point of having worked hard anyway." Time to actualise my potential right? The debate continues with me (reality) and me (internal beautiful creature you).

Looking for a Millionaire

Woke up one day and realised an upgrade to millionaire status was a necessity. The words looking for a millionaire sprung out at me and sparkled like diamonds. I felt a jolt of meaning and possibilities in life. To many these words represent monetary value. For me, looking for a millionaire respresents Raison d'être Being or finding a millionaire represents what my life should be. I am of value and need to be valued. I realised that I needed to credit myself and acknowledge my journey of hard graft. Moreover, I needed to be more astute to not just settling with someone because they quoted the right versus, and struck a few emotional cords. I realised that I am entitled to be treated like a Queen- like Cleopatra. It dawned on me that I could choose my social environment which mirrored what I had lost. I thought of all my past auditions into schools of diplomacy and social etiquetage. Those environments had once made me, but along the way I rebelled and got lost in needing to be miss independent at no holds bar. I ran from "the expected course" in life to only be lost in daily norms with no extraordinary monentary gains. In that monement, I realised the long venture of being miss independent and rebel (with some cause) was no longer single handedly sustainable. As much as I wanted to continue on this venture the social climate of "recession" would not allow for or pay for such a cause. The tune of Miss Independent was slowly fading away in the background slowly being depleted by economic hardships. Years ago my mission and quest to address social causes on a vehicle that modelled Mother Teresa tendencies paid for itself. It felt good to work for social causes without being inflicted with financial penalties. Now the reality is not so much so the case. I among others are in a socially induced coma dripped by doses of daily news broadcast of the big bad recession. Looking for a millionaire represents an escape from a trap of social normality and numbness. Its about connecting to fully living and wading through adverse economic and social conditions. In finding a millionaire, there is some level of pampering and freedom to maximising potential. It is about acknowledging that one can no longer go at IT (making a living) alone in life. There is also a need to be rescued by a Knight - who represents what a million looks and feels like. The Knight - Mr Independent would be grounded in Nelson Mandela tendencies. A Diamond Prince immersed in wealth of niceties for social causes and not wrapped in materialism. A charming character who values the qualities of family life. My suiter would need to know that I am built of natural qualities and not suited or inclined to model in the steps of barbie. There is a need to see the world- through the eyes of a millionaire. The qualities would encompass embracing difference and learning from otherness. The eyes of a millionaire would be astute and in tune with social causes. Capturing this essence would only extend to enhancing life further. There is a need in me to take a break from social norms of daily routine and enter into unknown realms of true existence. Perhaps also a rush of mid thirties crisis for the need to actualise existence now rather later. There is some level of greed and feeling of entitlement that these qualities are needed. I am humble enough in life to not take it all for granted. Its about aquiring a level where some of my mother Teresa and Cleopatra tendencies interwine to enable me to maximise my potential, only this time around with another. All in all looking for a millionaire is about refining my abilities and recognising that I cannot go at IT alone. Its about you- the Millionaire in you- the person (Knight) and person(s)-(Social Circles), that match extradionary tendencies to achieve BEING.

My True Blood

Understand what you experience at the moment cannot be translated into fluid literature. The world will have to wait for your manuscript, for within it there is so much context and layers to unravel. Your dialogue is still too raw for the world to understand. The world and its many charactures already have a well rehearsed script. Yours is a dialect infused with complexity and too early to automatically turn into a well reharesed dialogue, which others can transcribe. Your life experiences pararell a diverse and extraodinary discourse. Your verses need to be pealed one layer at a time, in order to be transcribed. Peel them all at once then your dialogue would become incomprehensible even for you to disect Through sensations of intense feeling you at times become lost in your own complex dialect. You are one with a magnitude of force in emotional intellect; for you allow yourself to feel.

Life is a Dress Rehersal

Wake up, dress up, make up, consume, digest, disect. Until you wake up, dress up, make up, consume, digest, disect again and again Life is a dress rehersal on automatic pilot with no inner turbulence to infuse a lasting awakening spark. One stands up in order to be counted. Shows up in social circles in order to be counted and be recognised as an entity. Presents to an audience a like of thyself, but not a true representation of self all in aid of social participation and conformity. Life labours become an automic vehicle immersed in daily repertoire.

Comatose to the World

Universal dialogue has been dispersed elsewhere Lost in a complex and dark discourse The vessel is on automatic pilot There is a numbness in perception, feeling and muteness in vocal cords Transfixed in unclassified territory Daily routines discarded for the pickings of rats Dreamlike state has become mutual company Meaning shelved in the archive of life scriptures Emotions twist and switch between mutiple penetrations of nothingness Invisible in social existence without any penalties Otherness has become extinct in ones eyes