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I’m embattled by a colossal voice That rises from myself Among humility’s flames, At intervals of madness
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Dazed and entrapped in a spiral Here I am once again, Being dragged through remorse By the brotherly heave Of a weary old friend
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I’m seldom alone When death is on the move Harvesting, the rhythms of defiance I beloved as a child Their rebellions are still alight within me Leveling the castles I forge To a wilderness of embers and stone I’m seldom alone In the gathering dusk, Their gangs still swarm With villainous delight
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In every Fleeting Deathly Second Mortal Hardships Tussle Wreckless Within the maddening mazes of obsession I bear their cruel And dark intentions
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I’ve got miles to go On this splayed apart fever-dream Toward an era That will take me as one of its own I’ve got centuries Before every crest and valley of myself Is pondered and mapped with care, The fall, will be drawn out and cruel But the moment I scatter I will earn a…
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Originally posted on Raja's Insight: What is death? ? Death is long nights in a prison cell listening to homemade knives being scraped on the floors, fashioned to knock a chunk out of your vital organs. While counting how many times it’s been on again. ? Full of anxiety wondering if I’m fashioning mine correctly.…
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Denial is tenacious It hangs to a love affair That my crazed thoughts chase Through the ivory backwoods My hour in the sun is an agile prey, The lasso often falls Still the chase rambles on Denial, lifts every utterance of praise As it snuffs out the cries Pleading “caution” from the night They plague…
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Originally posted on Don Afrika-Beukes Chronicles: © Cover art by Luke Borrill ? I am happy to announce that my second collection of poetry has been published by Alien Buddha Press and made a reality by Red Fox. This unique ekphrastic collection is a result of close collaboration with artists from South Africa, America and the…
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Harboring, the weight of our voyage From our infernal roots, I’m entangled in a dance With torment and peace
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I’m plagued with reveries of falling Of being left to myself To spiral, for all of my days Of being dulled to a whimper At the stride of my heroes, Bursting like shells In the eye of a war I fear an eternity In their impact craters To live, on the matted remains They spare…
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