I’ve been infected.It’s called Writers block.
When I have some sleep to spare,I listen to BBC dramas.They are awesome.I remember most of the one’s I’ve listened to but some, like Objects of insane desire stick out.It was aired in 2005 or thereabouts.
It’s only mighty fair to say
“Thanks” in sweet breath,
when Fate brings a play,
behind which a mind of a congenial genius.
Like that would have it,
the stars do portend,
perhaps out of habit,
so short this unintended lyric to end.
I wrote this poem about 4 years ago.I have not done much to it so it’s pretty much in its original form.
I just feel like going away to some place far away.To a place where time stands still,where wishes are granted and the sound of beating hearts is heard.I want to forget the impending separation,the consequent heart-ache and the loss.I want to forget it all.
But I can’t.I have to face it.It’s during situations like these that you tell the men from the boys.I’ve not been a boy since the first fight I had.i’ve felt every bit a man from the day I had my first crush.And am not ready to let go of that little pride.The pride that I’ve stood up on my own two feet,in trying times, and survived storms and gales,albeit with a little help from my folks.
In my path a mountain stands;
around me stand peaks:
behind them my path lies
but time I haven’t to conquer.
On the shore of an ocean,
my feet stop;
Over yonder,my life waits
but a fish I am not.
A picture on a large wall,
hung I cock-eyed;
through my flesh
a big tear ate
yet far afield,glue sleeps.
On the edge of a precipice
my good road ends.
Stretched out below me,
an ocean of dark night;
On the other one
my heart is.
I have bad and good news.The bad news is that am taken,not necessarily married, but unavailable. Kati ,am terribly sorry Cheri.You now have to use some African chemistry to get me. 
The good news is that,well,love knocked at my door and I was smart enough to open the door! 
So,this poem is for her.She knows herself.Ate don’t ask me for her name coz the probability of me telling you is as great as that of Uncle Bob dying in the next fortnight.
Now to the poem itself.I won’t say much coz I’ve to take this very poem to the next poets’ meet.I don’t want to spoil the fun for the guys.
Stanza 1,line 1:”…Veela…” are beautiful creatures.They are semi-giants though.Well,for more info on them,read Harry Potter.
Stanza 1,Line 2:”…Sandro’s obssession…” is the Roman goddess,Venus and her son is Cupid.Sandro Botticelli did quite a number of paintings of Venus,the most common being The birth of Venus and Venus.
Stanza 2: The the whole stanza alludes to an event before the destruction of Troy.Paris was asked to judge who was the most beautiful,of Hera,Athene and Aphrodite.He would hand the most beautiful of the 3,the golden apple he’d been given.Each one promised him something in return for ruling in their favour.Aphrodite got the apple after promising to help him get Helen,later known as Helen of Troy.According to the myth,Hera and Athene left hand in hand to plan for the destruction of Troy.
The last line:Just like paintings by Pablo Picasso are called Picassos,those by the surrealist painter Salvador Dali can be called Dalis.
She’s a cross between Veela
and son of Sandro’s obssession.
Her smile is my sky’s Dogstar
and my acuity’s black hole.
She’s my gentle heart’s pillar
and its newest,sudden obssession.
Her heart’s beats, my own do stir
and her sapphires warm my heart.
When Hera accosted me,
I, like Paris before me,
declined her offer,and wait
to face a piece of Troy’s fate.
But while my fear I assuage,
I’ll relish this frail forage.
This sea I sail’s a Dali!
Post-Apartheid black South Africans call themselves Black Diamonds.Under the Black Economic Empowerment,many blacks have got jobs they otherwise wouldn’t have during the apartheid era.The hold their heads high and relish their lives.This is for them.
The structure of the poem is experimental.For luck of a better term,I call it the ‘half structure’.The number of lines in a particular stanza is half that in the previous one.Hence, 4 for the first stanza, 2 lines for the second stanza and 1 for the last one.
It’s quite simple. The ‘BEE’ is obviously the Black Economic Empowerment policy.
I’ve cut myself a share
of the once-forbidden cake.
Though I can sweeten the ache,
I’ve a penny to spare.
I’ve soared on the BEE’s back,
with new Hope; and Luck.
I am a Black Diamond.
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