An Autumn Afternoon: Anna ascended Alberta Avenue. Anna’s airy aura almost agitated aggressive Adienne, always attacking anyone as appealing and aspirational as Alex; an acquaintance ages ago. As Anna approached, Adienne automatically abandoned all agitation, and admittedly adored Anna.

“An Angel?” Adienne Asked as Anna Allured and ascended aimlessly and airily, atop an autumn adorn avenue.

-2017 repost

sometimes it hurts

to heal.

Nokulunga Mazibuko

#poetry #micropoetry

Roses are Red,

Violets turn blue,

because love bleeds and turns cold

when it comes from you...

forget-me-nots plead,

but still are forgotten.

I planted loves seed,

whose fruits and blossom I've never gotten.

your roses are red,

with thorns that make it a pain to hold.

you make violets turn blue,

suffocated from all the lies that they've been told.

I've been rowing this boat

                  this boat of my dreams

I built it with faith, blueprinted by my creator through the ink of life.

I've been rowing this boat

                 this boat of my dreams

dreaming of a shore that glows at me from behind the black curtain of my eyelids, that closed the drama of life.

I've been rowing this boat

                   this boat of my dreams

despite the wind, the waves the cold,

I brushed of the seaweed and the negative words I've been told

Don't let me touch the water beneath

          don't you see my longing to breathe?

Don't let me touch the water beneath

        Let the boat of my dreams take me to shore...

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I crawled into

myself,

hoping that if I held

onto myself tight enough

I would disappear.

I was so full of the debri

I swallowed and the words

I never said.

But the wings I have

now

show me

that I did not

know I was

Cocooning.

©2017 Nokulunga Mazibuko

I crawled into

myself,

hoping that if I held

onto myself tight enough

I would disappear.

I was so full of the debri

I swallowed and the words

I never said.

But the wings I have

now

show me

that I did not

know I was

Cocooning.

©2017 Nokulunga Mazibuko

An Autumn Afternoon: Anna ascended Alberta Avenue. Anna's airy aura almost agitated aggressive Adienne, always attacking anyone as appealing and aspirational as Alex; an acquaintance ages ago. As Anna approached, Adienne automatically abandoned all agitation, and admittedly adored Anna.

"An Angel?" Adienne Asked as Anna Allured and ascended aimlessly and airily, atop an autumn adorn avenue.

© 2017 Nokulunga Mazibuko

She was beautiful but nobody saw her because she did not want to seen. She hid herself in baggy shirts and unflattering pants that did nothing to show her 'curves' like the girls in the magazines insisted was femininity. She was housed in a tent of concealment, looking through the windows of her eyes, that gave away the peaks of that which she was hiding.

She was beautiful and nobody saw her because she was not bathed in the concealers and contour that the instagram girls mark themselves with to show they are of the species "pretty". She did not show herself in the way people thought confident people should. Her skin was not the capital of her beauty.

Her body was not the capital of her beauty.

She was beautiful but nobody saw her, because she did not compress it into a mold that was shaped by the every shifting society that made perfection and beauty 'impossible'.

But She was Beautiful

©2017 Noklunga Mazibuko

These thoughts seem to swim around my head like aimless fish

only to become whales that will carry the world on it's back.

© Nokulunga Mazibuko

(Please feel free to juice :( Desires Challenge coins)

Who am I but a human.

The wind doesn't bow in my name and the sun doesn't ask for my permission to rise and shine.

I am but a sailor at sea who controls the sails, against and with the sea of life.

The miracle of my existence and the awe that I am still even here is because of a greater power.

The Power.

The one who not only controls the sea, but made the sea. Every storm architected for my good if only I trust in HIM.

God.

God controls my life, teaching me to trust him in every plot twist. The author who made me an author.

The God who made me a god.

The life that made me live.

The control that allows me to control.

So I write with the ink form His pen, Shine with the light He bestowed me, Live by the life bought with the blood of the Lord, and control by the control HE undoubtedly has over every situation.

God controls my Life.