kreativpolycap

If a day were a year and a year a day What would your day be like? On day fifteen of this thirty day trip We eased off to reminisce our fifteen years Of self-assessment, of positives And more positives You can never have enough of positivity! But only if you believe in happiness from within, That pull and push that knows no nakedness I didn’t say you be naked! In public! But then what!? That impulse to do right for it is The right thing to do! And you do it! Just listen to that little voice of reason From within! Simple and pure! And on day sixteen through to yesterday We indulged in more ways to make us positive Including sexual healing! That feeling of fulfillment In all the right ways! I digress… So a thirty day month Of June; and a thirty day Tale Of truth, and nothing more Only felt right, and we did it, right I knew it was the right thing to do! And a day being a year! Only meant I give it to you On no other day but this one here! So yes; thirty da

As he thundered down the hall, Calling out names from a scroll; Confusion and turmoil filled the air! Earthlings scurry away, Burying they heads in graves Of blankets and linen, they hid away! Even the light bulbs felt this tremor Blinking scared; from white light to something Nobody cared to shed a light on! Terrifying! It was a rollcall! A daily routine just before bedtime To ensure all heads are accounted for! Once a name was called out twice Kid was too scared, forgot and swallowed his tongue! I still feel a choke, with that tongue still down my throat Morning came, chow time beckons In queues we lined and in silence we observed The arrival of the one, causing all grounds to tremble! Go dress up well, he thundered at Alphonce! His dressing game was ever on the low Always picking up a fight with mister you know who! Once he sew a shirt, a cardigan and a tie as one Just so to evade a pandemonium against his foe! As we waited for our lesson on rocks to ensue

As I move further low, Away from the source of my flow; Away from my icy form atop the clouds The path downstream, rocky and at times Extreme! Through forests, tall trees watch me go Feeding their roots with my juice of flow! Thunders strike me as the rains fall Filling my banks I overflow to destruction But the sun shines on me Makes me calm Bring me back; Back to my journey downstream! Gravity calls and so I fall; To magnificent scenes They troll to see! Power their houses or so they think Harness my volume in boxes of concrete! Am calm! Find my way out, and off I flow To your cups; and quench thy thirst! To your smoky mills; you turn me to grease! Though I never cease, to find my way Back to the stream Down I keep my flow! Despite my filth I find my calm Draw from the sun to keep me warm Downstream; I keep my flow! Met with foes across the brows; But behold, the sea unfolds Friend and foe we hold hands in awe! As the sea gates open to let me home. ©

Ever seen anything fire can’t fix? Not even life itself is irreparable! Fire; a reaction between charges causing sparks And heat, depending on how strong the bond To be broken in the particles involved; And even hotter when the particles are bonding In a reaction to create an even stronger element! Iron sharpens iron to have sharper iron But when iron is touched by carbon in a heated union! A giant is born! Industries formed Revolutions witnessed All in the name of steel! Touch! Where do you lead? You bring foes to the table Heat them together and make them stable Have them build towers and telephone cables To stay in touch! To break bonds and boundaries, Treaties in big cities signed As the world becomes one! Globalization!The birth of cooperation’s; And multinationals running the world with just, Touch! I need something more! Not just zeros, they only last as long; I need a touch closer to the heart For everyone to see more, Feel more, And take me home!

In all my attempts to stay happy In my highs and lows There’s one truth, hard to swallow! A cry and a smile; Both at the end of each other But either is a remedy to peace! Internal solace Medicine of the soul! Cry when hurt Smile when lit; And confusion when not sure; The worst place! Has no cure! Let the tears roll when I cry And wash down the pain Ready to once again try! Let the tears roll when I smile The soul needs this; It lasts more than a while! So in confusion, I smile! Smile at all that makes me weak For if it kills me notIt can never make me bleak! Smile at rejection; A foe is only so if they never saw, The truth in your smile! So I smile! Smile at misfortune; The bride I seek Rests behind the next door A long face and a knock Can only be a bore! So I smile! Smile at the deception; The world trails at misconception In situations full of confusion! I smile!Smile at hate; You can never have enough friends! Smile at love; This soul fathoms

She sits on the left he’s on the right On this bench, waiting for the right Time to be attended to! He turns left to confirm the time From the clock on the wall, Right above her left side of the bench; As she turns right At the nurse calling out a list of names! They are locked in glance; She tries to shy away But his lucid smile Brightens his eyes, She can’t stop to look right! He leaps to the left And moves closer to her side You have the most beautiful eyes! She listens in confusion! She thought the same of his!Her name is called out, Twice! As she snaps out and gets up That’s me! She utters! Then I shall be right here, Waiting a little more Till you get right back! Moments after she’d left He is called in to be attended to! She is back and trying out her new Reading aids! He smiles on returning to her! Shall we… He reaches out to her And offers a hand of courtesy She rises, as he takes off her glasses! They lock in glance! Still beautiful, Even w

What’s in a walk? And why do babies take their time to learn it!? So is it okay if I walk with a shoulder higher than the other!? Or that’s just me justifying my left-leaning walk! I pause! And ask again… Why do you care so much how she walks! How his walk has a bounce to it! And how his walk speaks tones!? And ow, about my left-leaning talk On walking; I think we are the same! Not with you, you just keep reading; Am talking of Dr. Xavier Him of the Xes! That movie with an X! His walk is inversely proportional To his X abilities! So he can’t think and walk straight At the same instance! That’s amazing and very confusing! Right!?I don’t know! Since I just used Dr. Xavier’s walk To indulge you in a talk On walk! Still confusing!? You should be We are talking about walking! Of how to swing some things That evidently lost the swing To that old school dance Used to lay your mum way back when She had her swing on! I digress… But sincerely How do you walk!? O

As I think of what to say What to give on this day A seven day count hangs on my head! We’ve gone through honesty and peace Humility and hope; but to appreciate, all we have Is the surest way to finding happiness! Lost in thought so from the past I sought To find any sort of remote idea To spark a thought! And there she was, beaming from the top! In a flowing dress inches shy off her shin Chaos of geometry colored her torso, Though trickling into a flowery synth Below her waist, fading down to grey! Her crown like her tone, dark and bold Curled, soft and shiny yet strong like her image, behold! Her heels slightly off the ground As she tiptoed softly but the ground couldn’t hold; The strappings clasping against her firm legs Crossing in symmetry to have a pattern of geometry! Hardly could she pass for the office type! But her demeanor was a giveaway; Heading for the time of her life, Though composed enough to know how much time! She could swing by a mall and go on

On a calm coastal afternoon She sweeps by; Wonders around for a moment Till she discovers an uncolonized spot She sits motionlessly Wallowing at the horizon beyond Trying to find the break between the sea and the sky far away! The soft wind blows sand onto her feet She is too taken away, she feels none of it Like mortar to brick The sand on her feet sticks With wind blowing tiredly Against her long half-sand-sunken legs To a pattern of brick on mortar! Skewed in many ways But a wall seemed clear as day!She snaps out and lays a mat on the sandy ground As though a mason lays his slab bound in place by steel She lies there lost! Yet again, into the blue of the clear sky! Counting the sun rays to no avail Only glare everywhere stares sharply! The walls are raised high Almost to the sky Till she notices A missing roof! A crown, a tiara… To honor the majesty of this magnificent scenery! Thatching works well, this heat is harrowing Straws of reed with a touch of bur

A child learns by mostly observing; Picking out the norms from the abnormal, From what its surrounding has. He who learns not from his mother, Has the world to screw him! Or so goes the saying! But at times we need the world more. A lioness will always shield the cubs from everything, Till time proves otherwise, When the cub comes of age! The paws of the mum become of little help, When a new king ‘Fusa’ takes throne. And so it goes, that older cub starts its life journey Going through hunger pangs And rejection from other prides away from none that he knows! Meeting new friends who chase him For trying to take what’s theirs Hardship becomes its norm Until an old Fusa beckons retirement! Meeting new people is not a punishment It is life’s way of teaching you About the world Cruelty and rejection Can make you king if you take it well So allow critics to a have a field day What is the worst that can happen anyway!? People. ©Krv_200616

Today I moved a mountain Not literally But in my mind Always finding an empty valley In my mind and laying ground We always grapple over who the tenant is But it kept pulling that silent move Of laying quiet and not mentioning a word Oh no! it’s a mountain! But it was encroaching in my mind!? I had to do something So I took a coin And placed it on the train tracks And watched the train Smolder it into a tin It felt good! Seeing that coin become one With the tracks Really felt fulfilling I had always wanted to do it Since I was a kid But something kept pulling me back Till that drag built a mountain of doubt in my mind! But now am free Free to take up other mountains In any valley anywhere These challenges! Always make you better So take up your coin And watch it get smoldered Into a tin! ©Krv_i190616

writing on the road! ©Krv_190616

BMI is Body Mass Index For today we change the pretext To Body Mind and I Where I; like for iPhone From Apple, stands alone And who did Apple by giving them A bitten fruit? Surely it’s not Eve That should’ve been two bites Or more since Adam did a number too! I digress… But I that stands for myself Yourself and other self’s out there The, I inside you that tells you what do Wrong or right it is always up to you My Body, Mind and I Need to live together for us to stay high On top of everything that comes by Loops and fiery hoops for us to pass through And come out in the last end feeling fly So good food for the Body, More books for the Mind And loads of exploration That’s all the Soul asks for Not bundled up inside I I should live Healthy For the Body, Mind and I To stay fly. ©Krv_180616

My sweet sixteen is gone Don’t get me wrong She was here yesterday Plus she is under age So get your thoughts out the gutter And let us speak about what is right Done right Since it is the right thing to do That never gets old, Doing right! So tell me about how it feels To walk inside a gorge On empty feet. Walls all shiny from the alluvial marble Can’t touch yet, I can only marvel At how something this oldStill looks this bold And beautiful So I keep walking further in along the silty wet floor Warming my feet with every inch down this abyss Any flowers!? No, just marble! I need something to take to the core That soft spot warming this gorge No! it’s just air, only air warms this hole As the path grows narrower With every step I take lower! The marble walls start to melt As I slithered off the now slippery floor I need to catch a breathe So I dash back out and put on some skaters I have to get to the core! Plus the floor is going soft on me. Last time we

That feeling of a baby peeing on your shoes And smiles back at you That feeling of picking it up And looking at it in the eye And it’s still smiling back at you That feeling of talking with your teeth tied in harmony Since its mommy is only a room away from the two of you That feeling of wanting to throw it away But you still carry it anyway Why-Don’t Babies come with a Bleep!? At least for the few years it still can’t speak! Eh! Did I hear someone else with me here? Yes, right here! That feeling of doing something for it is genuine Plus it’s just a baby! What does it know? But a bleep would really do more I mean, am just saying! That feeling of doing right Since it is the right thing to do! And you do it, Right Since it is the right thing to do! So take off your shoes It is the right thing to do Plus it’s just a baby And it is the right thing to do You are also just a growing baby… Can I hear drumrolls!!!! And a Chinese Horn We all need to ease the toot of

It’s been fifteen days Since we heard Echoes of Mercy, Whispers of Joy And to which we learnt to Fear Him alone So we asked! Are you afraid of being alone in truth? On day two… Where we learnt that honest tales Are Tales that bind, so we woke up on day three In a place A rare place The one space I seek solace My place of Gold My place of peace Then we were swept off the flooded roads to A village far away On the fourth day Here we met A lad with a dreamWho kept hoping for better days! But no, you are not alone On this fifth day Am that younger self of you That humble kid that only wanted the best So we kept hoping for another day A sixth day And a girl told us Her pain Of how she had to be a woman to her father But she learnt to Forgive and live free As we rested and thought You wake up to her cry She loves it when you touch her Swipe her dress to ogle at her lingerie On this seventh day as the rest of the world They troop in masses to pin their not

What I kept is lost What I gave out is mine forever For it grows through others all over Finding its way back in ways I can never give words to Through people that I seldom talk to By giving me this and that I feel am blessed too Like a teacher Richer in knowledge But when her student from long ago Pulls over and assists her with her overdue credit She is not just pleased by it She is fulfilled Happy For playing a part And nurtured this fella A respectable member of her society A pity, teachers never get rewarded for their toil It’s a calling, a noble call That everyone Must answer! In more ways than this one Teaching is about sharing your knowledge Not just to get an edge Or maybe get ahead Of the pack of hounds behind you But to bring them closer To you! Away from the shadows Into the light that shines ahead of you. We need more people to see the light And stop lurking in the shadows of not knowing! The air up there is pretty cold Having people around

Well-manicured gardens with fountains flowing Into the Lillied ponds, home for the double-horned fishlings Wide pavements covered in brushed slate stone With trees meticulously arranged on either sides A walk through this sure felt heavenly and a ton more This went on and on for a hundred acres a lot more Into the horizon With a mansion built of hard timber To carry the massive pagoda A fortress An Emperor’s palace In a land far away into the sunset Scarlet and purple donned the interior With an occasional gemmed chandelier Dangling freely off the artsy ceiling Royalty Everything well placed, it was pleasing Maidservants bowing respectfully As the Emperor’s son leaves for a journey To a land where the sun rises He probably got fed up of the sunset! So he wanted something more As he walked through the campus corridors During an orientation tour A professor paused and sought to know What was it that impressed him most in this far away land! Well the shape of your

What do we call an eleven sided figure? A geometry student to his teacher to figure Hendecagon And a twelve sided? Dodecagon But I hardly expect anyone to ask that of you at this stage Since the figures go on as the numbers come of age For now simply stick to the first ten Any further simply use n-gon Where n is the number of sides you seek As the teacher scribbles ‘Hectogon/ Centagon’ To mean 100-sided polygon As he exits the class and gone In all his brilliance, He never found the exact material to quench his thirst Thirst for knowledge. Remember his call from that soothing charming voice The call girl from yesterday!? Yes, Day Eleven it was… This is him taking on his day A strong believer in imagination A teacher Just what is needed to build a nation! But what do you do when imagination takes you to places untold? Places you cannot fathom, places only left for the old Since age gives you the sense of wisdom Wisdom to understand your surrounding And discer

The phone rings Anonymous caller! I never pick up such But this feels right, alright Hello… It’s a soft voice, am calm, she keeps talking And talking but I hardly notice her I got lost in her soft tone, soothing it was till she muttered ‘blow!’ My bubble of thoughts goes poof! It’s the call girl I spoke to earlier, oops, forgot about that one She’s back with a scroll and seeks to know what I want done! Sorry I got lost in the middle, could you… No worries, I got you She sings through her scroll once again as I get lost yet again I feel a little sweat trickling down a crevice that hardly sees sunshine And ask! What’s your name? Sorry… I wish to know more about you aside from what you have for me She giggles and tosses back a better deal You go first! As I scamper to get my ID since am not sure who I really am, At this time! Kinky! No no no! She mumbles Not your name, dummy, your handle! Huh! We talked for quite awhile About everything and nothing too Of how fa

Chugging up beer sure feels liberating Spasms of electrons all over you, this is exciting! With hormones racing you'd think a teenager Feeling so strong I could cameo in a masonry excerpt Rampantly moving around in attempts to stand out I stall! I can't take it anymore, it feels stupid A tosspot to be precise Was it fun? Did I feel happy? This is me attempting a number ten on a dictionary Randomly picking words Ten words to piece together to have a play I get to seven only for number eight to be uvula! Am left twisted like a black haired lady Trying to pull out a colored weave Am just a boy looking for happiness In words that cannot spell happy Chug, electron, hormone, masonry, rampant, stall, tosspot And weave All I get is 'chemistry' and so is happiness Fluid it should be, to pass through all crevices Cracks and crannies of life's worst and best So happiness, true happiness is found within. ©Krv_080616

A jar full of water cannot take any more water Pour it in the empty cups; I need to get more water Or should I grab the other jar I need some of that fresh water! Even the cups get refilled only when empty This was a conversation among the utensils at a dinner table! Of how the glass jar looks bored Forced to serve the master who barely touches his drink The rest of the containers are being ferried on and off the table With a different drink every other time they dock. They feel refreshed, Unlike the glass jar who still hasn't moved an inch since That's the story of a jar and the family at work Its spout is often just a fraction of the lid! So how do you give thanks without giving? The lid serves to allow a lot more water in And pour just a little out through the spout To stay refreshed. So in order to receive you have to give, just a little To stay refreshed. Be thankful. ©Krv_080616

Is it Black or White? Which one is it! Which one is alright? So let's say am white...But you are black! There, right there! What? Why do we have to argue over colors! Yet each of them has its uniqueness And again, are just colors! So le'me try this again, Let's say am white... Am I any safer than the other colors? Probably not! Every color on this palette will one day end up on some canvas Or a wall, may be a line on the lashes of a beautiful las Maybe become the mystical colors of the sunset Or the skin tone on some blonde or a brunette A redhead or some whacky afro head whose curly-haired neighbor Thinks he invented the Afro! Some nut case eh! Same as this nut job trying to con me into getting some change Only to reappear on the next corner acting strange Because now he is being wheeled and cannot utter a word Not even change! Do you ever ask yourself why things are different? Why black is dark and why everything bright always looks white! They al

You wake up to her cry Try to snooze away but she keeps trying Trying to have you hold her, talk to her, talk with her How you ask? She gives you the world and a lot more for you to add To your solitude since that is how small your circle has become But with her you are fulfilled She loves it when you touch her Swipe her dress to ogle at her lingerie For here the entire world comes to bring their folly They troop in masses to pin their notices Of how well or not life is treating them They feel free having their linen out here You hesitate! Cover her up hurriedly to answer a call A call of nature, she speaks to you, you speak through her Then you rest your anxiety and keep swiping, touching Tapping... But it is only a phone Your phone, her phone, his phone and every other phone Taking you to a world of information Laying all the good and bad to you in split seconds This is the information era Like the other eras past, we live for now But we are alone with oursel

She fills the room with her glow Her narrow smile So precise Just enough to have you wanting more She keeps a posture Even when it's just the two of us She is composed Calm and collected I often feel we've just met For when she stares at me Is as though she is looking through me Reaches for an embrace As I creep closer to her We lock in glance Her bright eyes turn teary Her dimply cheeks glistened by the stream Flowing down from her already reddening eyes I offer her comfort Wipe her face and hush her to sleep I stopStare at the empty ceiling as I recall her story Her pain Her strain that she tries to mask away by her wardrobe wits Pain of her childhood ordeal Of how she had to be a woman to her father Of how her peers looked at her with disgust Laying blame on her for not being a model A role model to her younger siblings But to all of this she chose to be meek Always keeping a smile on her pretty face Forgiving all of them Even though she knew no

Am addictive Am a disease to you For I will cease you So bad like the bad habits you keep committing Thinking you are alone and self-righteous But no! You are not alone Am right there Next to you when talking to your shadow Yes right next to that piece of stone That piece of cloth That piece of habit you won't let go of Right there pleading with you to listen But my voice so small you hardly notice my disappointment So small so soothing so comfy so much that you still disappoint me Am only like a ring to you That's right The only thoughts of me are filled with confusion Confusion from the things you never knew Things that now you know But since am a disease to you You only want me gone Disappear like a bad memory But no! I am right here Right next to this bad memory you lost Yet you still want to pick it up For you like your bad memory You my friend, you are lost Unable to find yourself So who else should do it for you? Yet am still here Right nex

Hallo my dear mum Your background is not as clear That was one of the numerous phone calls An international call from her student son The son is viewed by the village as their first breakthrough child A sponsorship beneficiary. A village so far away The only time a vehicle muses by Is when the weather does a number! Or two on the bad roads, Miles away! So the background commotion During the phone call Was a mechanical voyage Through this remote village. Somewhere in this forgotten settlement Lives a young man A lad, nothing more than an elementary school goer! With big dreams for his home His lone mentor! A shop owner Whose main product of sale is? Anything but a profit earner! Why, you ask? He lends products more often than he sellsBut to the lad He is the only person in the village That has an office-like set up Other villagers are peasant farmers And clothe mending tailors The lad always revered the shop Since he was always sent To pick supplies on cre

credits to photographer A rare place! The one space I seek solace Here I find myself in nature For it takes me away to a distance afar Yet so near, I feel it is only here Egoli A Zulu name A place of rare enchantment A place of Gold My place of Gold I find the triple-edged bridge The bond between the three self's in me Here the soft wind whispers a song Through the dewy leaves the shrills are made clear The little flying twitters cannot hide their excitement A chorus is composed With rhythm so soft I only play audience An orchestra of nature I stand and take stage With every swing of my thoughts the rhythm switches To high and low in successive transitions, So clean you hardly tell the drop from the rise. I stabilize, And let nature take its course Peace at last! krv_300516

He is surrounded by all these friends They like him for he is of good company Maybe he is welcoming Or maybe it is the endless tales That he keeps regurgitating every so often All the attention, the warmth! But does this really bring him fulfillment? Whenever he recounts the tales by himself, He knows only too well that none of it is true! His inner being wants to end this streak of misery But to let go of the attention feels even worse. So he resorts to keep his company But give tales that lean towards his reality The friends keep coming though they do not stay as long as they used to Fewer friends come by and without knowing he is left alone! Where did they go? They sought refuge at the other friend who always wanted the position he held! He had tales not so interesting but just enough to keep a group on their seats Is it that nobody wants to be told the truth? Are you afraid of being alone in truth? So the young man and his newfound solitude discovers a place of

Echoes of Mercy, Whispers of Joy Give name to this Being The unseen Giver of all that has meaning ‘The fear of God is the beginning of all wisdom’ Says the word of Old.