Of Motorbikes And Life

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Every other Monday I relive my lively weekends with you
The countless hours spent on that dirt road
On that motorbike with you Kissing the wind, flirting with danger Adrenaline junkies screaming like the fools we are
Leaving a trail of dust for the ‘normal’ lovers to follow
You take the bike by the handles
The same way you grab life by the horns
– with rare grace draped in a nonchalant face
Sitting behind you I firmly hold your waist
That illustration itself a metaphor of the trust we share
And so every Monday the countdown
To the next weekend begins

We’re What We Eat

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We are what we eat

Thus some people are sour

Some bitter while others are sweet

There’s those that are attractive

With an even better taste

Then there’s the pretty looking ones

We still love to hate

Just like food some are

A little rough around the edges

Others are pleasing to look at

Like there were cut from cook book pages

Some people are real deep

Like they were made of soul food

Then there’s those that are like junk food

Pretty fun but eventually no good

Like food some drive you to a tempting, unholy urge

Others just cause you to purge

Like food some are hard as stone

Others tender as an ice-cream cone

If you wanna hear about food, wellness and more

Let’s meet at the Health, Wellness and Green Living Market

The 8th of April, 10 am, Foxdale Mall





How To live A Full Life On A Half Full Pocket

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Don’t explain yourself

Take a ride on a motorbike

Take a chance on love

Give into your food cravings

Laugh out loud

Turn down that crappy job

Smell the flowers

Watch a Tim Burton movie

Savour the moment

Disagree with the parents

Listen to old music

Act a fool

Love yourself



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It’s no secret, I love curves , I love how they rise and fall
How they swerve and slide, how they seamlessly meet
To give character to your perfectly sculpted frame
I love your wide swinging hips and cascading thighs as you walk
I see how you have every guy effortlessly twirled around your waist
It’s quite obvious why but I constantly wonder if there’s more to these curves
Or are they a mere thing of beauty?
Let’s indulge our minds so I can see you bare
Help me unravel the nakedness of your thoughts
Let me see for myself what lies beyond those curves
Yes your body is grace and poetry incarnate but is your tongue beautiful?
Can you express your mind as well as you do your body when you wriggle of your waist?
Don’t be fooled by my words, I’m a man, I love your undulating contours
And the pleasure I draw from them, I confess that I’ve lusted them sometimes
But can you stimulate me sensually with your thoughts, imagination, creativity?
Can I touch your winding edges with my words?
Flaunt your thought provoking intellect and lure me with your wit
Let’s engage in hours of wild verbal intercourse and reach a thunderous climax
I pray your mind is deeper than your sweet navel and your heart as wide as your hips
Your arching hips themselves brackets that express the importance of what lies between them


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The delicate vine winds and crawls

Around the lemon tree, near the wall

It carefully creeps through the branches and leaves

Curls a silent robin under the dewy eaves

Twisting and turning like a tropical storm

I instantly fall in love with its curvaceous form

 I close my fortunate eyes

And let my fingers explore the slender vine

I palm and gently crush its glorious grapes

Impeccably clothed in sparkling purple drapes

And with sheer elegance and charm

The premature wine streams down my arm

From my palm, I drink the residual wine

And wonder what could be nearly as fine

As the sensation that terribly teases my tongue

Perhaps the vine from which these sweet orbs hung

The inspiration for these terse lines

Slender, whole, graceful, divine

Beautiful Contradiction

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I’m a beautiful contradiction
Quiet persona with rowdy tendencies
A student of humility but still a proud man
My words run smooth yet I’m rough around the edges
I’m good and bad depending on the context
I wonder who made you judge
Putting labels on people instead of jars
I’m fed up with you trying to fit me into categories
Telling me to think outside the box
All the while assigning me labels that are
Nothing more than social constructs
Intended to limit my possibilities
A shameful contradiction
But I’m beautiful contradiction
A perfect mix of chance and purpose
Black as night yet I’m the heart of a colorless rainbow
On love’s battlefield I’m both a lover and a fighter
Broad strokes of pain inextricably intertwined
With slight touches of happiness, I’m a mural of life itself
I’m so much like you but I’m still all me!

The Real Ones

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This one is not for the faint hearted, not for the fair weather friends
The sunshine soldiers or summer patriots
This one’s not for the hi and bye friends
The ones who talk a good game but don’t back it up
The I’ll-give-you-a-call-one-of-these-days-but-never-get-to-call kind of friends
This one is for the real ones
The mates, the fusas, the buddies and homies
The crazy ones, the quiet ones, the awkward ones and orderly ones
The embarrassing and loud ones too
The ones who will call you straight out when you talking bullshit
The ones who know you beyond your looks, name and possessions
Beyond Facebook, Instagram and Twitter
The ones who make you laugh even when you have a look of no hope on your face
The ones who stick around when your world has stopped spinning
And when it seems the world has turned on you
The ones who see you through to the end, making memories through the hard times
The ones who call you for no reason every chance they get
The ones who call just to say something only you can understand or tolerate
And you’ll cherish every call, text, joke, laugh, story and minute shared
Coz you know that they’re an extension of you and your strangeness
And because you know without a doubt that the world might end today but the bond
You share will still hold because it’s real