Archives for October 2015

She looked like a hooker, you know
An impersonal being running the errands of atrocity
She looked like the type that drags and drops, all at once
She was dressed in black, her eyes drenched in a black eye-liner
Dark as her world seemed, I could see right through it
Her posture was one of certainty
She seemed to have had it all together

What intrigued me was her company
A decent guy, decent-looking in terms of character
You could just sense that there was some sort of vulnerability there
They were standing in a way that made me want to, or maybe I did
Conclude by saying that they must have been lovers
Contrary lovers, as Shakespeare would say,
They were star-crossed lovers

Please note that this not a judgement piece
I mean I am rather unqualified for that
I’m just simply sharing my observation, something that
Intrigued me to a point of an oblivious state
I could not put two and two together
But because I am one who does not take kindly to
Indescribable concepts,
I then made some sort of reasoning
That being of a slightly subjective nature
But then again, when are these things ever objective?
I looked at the pair quite closely, intensely, scrutinising their every move
For that would lead me to more informed thoughts
I could have been wrong but the manner in which they exchanged words
Was of familiarity
They must have been involved in some way, I thought
I mean, how often do you find a contrary pair in such harmony?
Not impossible, but how often?

Then she, the hooker look-alike, or the one
She stood behind him, placing her light hands
On his heavy shoulders
Most probably heavy because he wore the blue collar-coded robes
A uniform which represents hard labour
That is no judgement, let’s call it an assumption shall we
So she uttered some words, behind him
How I dread the things that are done behind the backs of the oblivious ones

He smiled.
He also had something to say, with his back on her
It made her smile too.
So they stood there.
I’m assuming that the plot unfolded, in some way
After my taxi drove off from the scene

My thoughts remain with them
I could swear there was a story there
Maybe someday, soon, I will uncover it.
Signed, on my way home.

I met the decorated Soldier,
A commander of great standing
A man of virtue with discipline, a decorated Soldier with dignity
I believed in what I have convinced myself over the years
Much to my ignorance, my beliefs were washed away by my tears
He was not a commander with honour, but another decorated soldier.
Mama I met the decorated Soldier.

So much could be drawn from his breath, a stench of death.
Facts I ignored to believe in empty promises and baseless kisses.
Caught up in his artificial verbal swirls, for that moment the world was mine
Being naïve and just another silly girl in the world, I held tight to every word.
Deep inside those expensive suits, was an undignified character of no virtue
Mama, I met the man who became commander by chance.

An expensive ego but a cheap man underneath
Flaunting sessions did bring mixed emotions, but I chose to see acknowledgement in action
His fame and wealth positioned his pride, Something he never tried to hide.
Being a woman, I gave in to the charming ego, an intimate betrayal to my ego.
For a moment I forgot of my honey badger spirit, I became most girls.
Mama, I’m shamefully saying I fell for the undignified hero

Selling me a billion rand dream, I stepped on my pride like a rug
I gave in and melted like cheap butter on a cold mug.
When reality kicked in, everything was just cold
I realised the soldier was just another sailor passing by
He lied, left, disrespected and broke what was fragile
Mama I was hurt and betrayed by the man whose actual duty was to lead and protect

A man I looked up to him as being wise, He proved to be anything but wise
He was just another Hero who rose to fame by chance and a price tag
Through him I realised I may not have luxuries but I have the treasures of life
Mama I met the decorated soldier an empty man with so much priceless things to acquire
Honor, discipline and dignity are not for sale and far off his reach
Mama I met the decorated soldier, together with the strong woman I am.
Mama I met the man who inspirit was just another fallen Soldier