Distorted Portrait (Taken from Poetically Ghetto)

I’m an unsightly beast

My sooty countenance is hideous

Features so obtrusively horrid

The mirror says I’m too repulsive

 

It’s been written in the ancient scrolls

Pale skin is the engraved custom

The colour that’s painted the accepted effigy

Our colour is but an unwanted stain

 

Hair as coarse as an ageing sheep

Appalling noses squatting on black faces

Bloated cushions of coal lips

The swarthy appeal’s no alluring indeed

 

How marvellous do their features pose?

Poking swords of pointed noses

Skin as milky and white as snow

Green and blue crystal eyeballs

 

Our thick thighs bulging and pouring

Bloated bellies deliberately protruding

Bulky bosoms tripping the knees

Bouncing bottoms wobbling like jelly

 

A spectacular frame so organized

Each slim attribute tenderly placed

Figures so gracefully emaciated

Nothing hefty and obese; all’s well-carried

 

To find beauty is to obey this creed

Our grisly dark skin will be blemished

This coal colour will be bleached

Under fake coiffures, our mops are hidden

 

Isn’t it how beauty’s always defined?

Pale faces and lean shapes

What a distorted image they’ve painted

Veiling our dark beauty we still submit

 

In the Darkness

img_2816

Silence has sirens

Cardiac sounds burn to the grounds

Romantic nights of sore endings

Stars quit their morals

Skies betray the eye’s trust

The moon wears his lewd ornaments

Around his thick fleshed neck

He makes a deal with the hungry sun

“Hide until greedy graves feed”

 

Eyes are bleached in pale shadows

Unblinking mistresses of the face

Silence has melodies

When the sockets run free in bloated seas

 

Darkness dips its toes in sloppy pores

Death becomes a smiling whore

Gyrating its thighs on the laps of our beloveds

Kissing their eyes with its sooty mouth

 

Here we are the ones left behind

Buffoons circling the eyeballs of coffins

Death and life juggling our tender lungs

Gambling with the ones we breathe for

 

In this long and short while of endings

Hearing silent sirens

Here we are with nothing

But a night gone with everything

Gravity

​”Set him free”

They said

So I left with the gravity
Beneath his feet
And he floated freely
Until he had nowhere to land
No grass to lay his head
No heart to call his home
Set him free, I did
I took his gravity with me-NM Seg

Things…

​They were words on crutches

Disorganized lines left untouched

Of things too raw
Of things wrapped in thorns
They were falling bricks
The cracks never sealed
The souls that always leaked
All the rights that should’ve been
Lost in words we couldn’t speak
In the sins we couldn’t forgive
And wounds that didn’t heal

They were words made of mist
Existing in chances we’d missed
-NM Seg

A Poem: Pretty Little Bird

Pretty little bird lives in a cold nest

On a sterile tree with dead leaves

She flaunts her rainbow coloured breast

And spreads her silk and sea-glittering wings

For all the idle trees to wrestle in contest

To have her peck their stems with her silver beak

 

In the wild forest, there’s a majestic tree

With a stem as hard as the chest of a god

Branches that spread with grace and symmetry

Alluring and bewitching to one who beholds

Its august shade and its virile leaves

 

When the sun retires to an unknown land

And the moon stretches out across the sky

Pretty little bird finds the tree without help

Singing sweet songs into the amorous nights

All the flowers the tree gives into her lap

Until the bark dries and all the green dies

 

Right where the tree stands, deep in the earth

Lies the strong arms of its nurturing roots

That feed the beating of the tree’s heart

And tailors the strength in the fibre of its wood

The power to the branches that hold the little bird

 

The soils whisper the secrets of the darkness

Of clandestine pecks and romantic coos

The moon can no longer keep it all in silence

Of rattling leaves and the fruits’ flowing juices

The wise forest details the night’s affairs

When the tree learns of the death of its roots

And fails at the attempt of a late resurrection

Pretty little bird flies off for another tree to woo