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You Feel Like Giving Up

You Feel Like Giving Up Your Tears Are Flowing Like A Tap And Somehow It Never Will Stop For Their Words Continue.

They Are The One’s Who Have Hurt You With The Years It Was Them Who Caused Your Fears To Be The Only Realities You Know.

This Is The Situation You Are Facing An Individual Without Purpose Who’s Birth Is No Mistake And With This You Have To Start Your Own Life.

You Are Filled With All The Hurt Of An Individual Who Is Longing For Just A Little Bit Acceptance, Only Wanting A Chance.

Wanting To Know What Being Understood Means Running Into Someone’s Arms Feeling The Warmth Of Their Love That In Time Will Take All The Pain Away.

You Are Someone

You Are Someone Looking For Direction Someone Just Like Me For I Too Was Where You Are And It Is The Worst Place To Be.

It Is Your Soul That Is Longing For The Freedom From The Bondage It Is In And Only God Can Give That To You.

Your Soul Needs To Be Freed But You First Have To See The Need For God In Your Life And Then Allow Him To Free You.

That Freedom Is Only A Prayer Away And Only When You Invite God To Stay Will Your Soul Find The Peace That You Currently Can’t Find.

I Know What Direction I Went With Sin And I Know What Direction I Am Currently Going In Now That I Found God And He Has Set My Soul Free.

Hush

Hush,do not utter a word
For every syllable is laced with your poisonous deceit
Refrain from pouring forth empty entices
Withhold yourself from conjouring disappointment
Peace,hold your tongue
The source of my anguish

I was loved

I was loved before I was born
before I felt the sun on my skin
before I was seen with scorn
before I came to know Him

I was loved before I was born
the moon was made for me
and each sunset and dawn
along with the deep blue sea

I was loved before I was born
by a God who loved me
Who wanted me born
for me to be happy

The Flavors of Africa

In the pouring rain

I hear the melody of the fleeing birds

I’ m searching for my youth

in the glow of Malikongwa’s poetry

I’m listening to the voice of Africa

the echo of the past mingle with the rain

I’m the wanderer

returning to my land

open as the sky

hidden in the shadows of the trees

I taste the sounds

of eternal Africa

Death of Butterflies

This missingness
is a sabre-worm,
feasting on my heart-fruit,
and I imagine
by tomorrow it will have eaten
my heart all up
and chewed its way down
through my ribs
to devour the butterflies there
and sleep,
blood-drunk, heavy and keening,
in the hollow
where the fluttering should be.

Seasonal

wind blows indiscriminately
across bare highways
waking desert land

granules and grains
levitate
swallow
highways cars buildings

whirl wind dust ghosts
arise from
summer slumber
as winter summons earth
to take a stroll

Cedar Loft iv

she made room for him
in her heart
and accommodated him
within her space

his warm embrace
was her happy place
and the more he opened up
the more she let her guard down

so she invited him to her bower
which seemed divinely decorated for her guest
even though he could tell it was probably in an unaltered state
judging from how she’d always presented herself on their dates
always looking exquisite and making it appear so effortless

he felt quite naturally comfortable
and certainly didn’t feel as though he was out of his element
for she had a fine collection of artistic pieces
which were obviously thoughtfully placed
reflecting her taste, and that he truly appreciated

the clues were subtle and intimate
and he particularly loved the lit candles everywhere
from the loft entrance to her bedside pedestals
and the fragrant atmosphere reminded him of his own lair
only that his had blues like a satin bowerbird’s nest

his reservations about what was for him best
and doubts about whether to enter this intimate phase
were all laid to rest
as they toasted and got absorbed in a tête-à-tête

and as it was getting late
he figured he’d suggest… but before he could relate
she said ‘you’re my bumble bee and I – your red clover
and so would die if you don’t lie down with me’

it all felt so right thus they spent the night
going half on a baby

© Heath Muchena, 2016

Uptown Abbey iv

his heart held a modicum of attraction
which quickly intensified that he hastily disregarded the opprobrium
that would inevitably follow all unbefitting association with a betrothed woman

and ripe as the fruit of his passion was
there was clearly no petering out, no separating the pips from the pulp
he had to have her or no one

so wholly… was his want

© Heath Muchena

My Sweet Dream

I had a sweet dream last night
Real Heaven on earth
It was crystal clear and so real
Until I woke back to reality

I flew to worlds unknown in my sleep
Where no living soul has ever reached
Everything there was perfectly beautiful
I really wish I could live there forever

I reached a certain place last night
Where I saw men and women living together
Respecting each other as equals
Until I opened my eyes to the same reality

I badly wanted to learn a thing or two
On how they live and find happiness together
But I was quickly awaken back
By the wailing voice of a raped little girl

I had so many questions to ask them
How their women feel safe around men
Wearing whatever feels comfortable
Without the end less fear of being raped

I wanted to know a little more
How it is possible in their world
For little angels to play around
Without arousing the lust of some grey headed man

I entered some real dreamland last night
Where no man lays a hand on a woman
And abuse of children is a thing unknown
It all vanished when I woke to the real world

I had a sweet dream last night
I saw glimpses of a perfect world
Where ALL are equal
But I guess it was just a sweet dream!

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