my ostrich shell painted with
springbok and entangled daisies
blowing in icy wind
I drink yolk and albuminous
whisperings along rushing waves
we are soft dreams where
a fishing boat stood
buildings now deserted
¥
storehouse freshly painted in ochre
fishing nets drawn alleluia
dreams float with the sardines
drinking coke we celebrate catch
wind skips along Hout Bay shore
daisies clap wild petals yellow
shells smashed we eat boiled yolk
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
at the miracle of low tide
in the glitter of an afternoon
the sun bestows its magic
on every grain of sand
and seashells come out
to play and sunbathe
the beach enchanted
with awe and whimsy
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
a crab sheds his shell
vulnerable for six weeks
a new shell appears
stronger than ever
he struts across the beach sand
less vulnerable
My soul’s a shell with wind of time
That blows inside forever
The hollow roar of waves it hides
Although its calm as ever
My mind’s a desolated street
To fields of green and meadows
It leads but not a face I meet
Beneath the tangled shadows
Gone is the 16 Marroway
Gone is the Jansel Square
The garden where Pippa played
Has vanished in the air
My heart’s a cactus on your sill
Under the heating sun
It hopes for water you could spill
Although it knows you can’t
You disappeared in the space
But you remain in time
I know for sure there’ll be a place
For us, and some fine wine.
Frail heart's are weak minded bigots
I felt this disturbance enter into the light
this cold dark cloud burning below zero
it sends the shivers coming from its shadow
The broken record begins scratching a surface
ingrowing putting the needle between words
sewn deeply rooted the reflection appears mirrored
frozen watching this crossover
it all happens without conflict in the company of wolves
Ripping to shreds rights and other human truths
a journey begins in order for us to open our eyes
to see we must start exercising to earn virtues of humility
Without Grace at the helm souls will sink
impurity has adopted so many bad habits
it hates to stop
inappropriately it sits back and watches the seed of destruction flourish
The Truth will rise from ashes of despair moulded
in the end we need to internally examine this shortfall
and overcome our weaknesses making progress acceptable
hence we can always live for a better future with God
A DOVED SHELL
A slow-moving shell,
caboose-like crawling in peace:
Cute little turtle:-
PINK SCALLOP SHELL
Along my road to Freedom stood
showy blue-green sentinels with
white cloud whiffs representing Sky
starling decorated bushes joined
Party of the Road to nowhere
this was where Freedom
danced naked, her shadowed body
awaiting with roasted chestnuts
she met us with a hug and drums
on I moved to dissolve into River
braincells becoming numinous atomic matter
smiling towards Void, ever deeper into
Dark for Light, a von Gogh sunflower watched
in longing as breasted hills embraced
my drowning, matrix fell away
stillness and sound merging as did
boundaries, embankment with Freedom herself
from River into Sea
I became a pink scallop shell on
undulating ocean floor
Conch shell sea gem and sea snail
Horn held tone gyrates the tritonis trumpet
Note blown ending battles on a splinted scale
Epitome depictions make cameo’s regret
Emergent higher seas, onward this ship shall sail
Tidal wave warnings of an uprising onset
Shell, ancient mortal,
Cast from sparkling oceans, soul
For your lost love pined.
Thin skin, fragile bone,
Hearts that break, a whispered fear,
Dust to dust we fall.
©bfa030225
Hard and rigid
The life so lived and so painful
Lived to be smart, your own way and left this world wanting more
Hard and broken, rigid and angry
Soft and beautiful
The life so lived and a beautiful soul
Lived to be free, enjoy all things and left the world way too soon
Soft and loved, beautiful memories
I was young, bright full of promise, full of light.
High school passed in a blur,
a victory too soon, too fast.
They cheered, they clapped,
Mom wept with pride,
but I barely had time to feel it.
Then the world changed.
Tertiary welcomed me,
but fate had other plans.
A silent storm stole my path,
cutting dreams before they could bloom.
I searched, I fought, I worked,
but each day felt the same.
The hours passed, yet I remained stuck.
Now, I drift through life,
a ghost in my own skin.
The child who once raced ahead,
now stumbles through the past.
And all I have are words not answers, not peace,
just echoes of a question that whispers through the silence:
Where did I go wrong?
Much colder than a wind chill factor
causing chaos in the silence;
Do not underestimate
the blizzard inside of
a Capricorn growl;
Unassuming
and polished
shell of
gall.
In the alleys of mirrors, reflections stare back with faces I've yet to covet. The cacophony of screams and whispers, a post-coital slack-jawed pause, the aftermath of endless nights and getting lost in vorpal holes of unwritten rules. Where pornographers masquerade as poets, sacrificing Eros on the altar of analysis. I squirm on the auto-da-fé of your ardor, land of disco balls and dementia shops, every step a temptation to drown in this make-believe proposition — lost prostitute histrionics downslope. Where lies persons end of having no escapes— ?
In vacancy lots of mind haste, I find a faze in the scars of my past memories, ghosts of my mistakes, the lingerings of taste and lust. They're the only constant in this toxic haze, the only truth I can hold onto.
I wish you could break
your walls
so you could see that your shell
is too small
here outside in the mist
there is a world
waiting patiently for you
for so long...
But I lost my hopes
over time
your heart isn't yours
and isn't mine
your heart beats
to keep you alive
and I have to move on
with my life.
And that is my struggle
and that is my pain
being in the same position
once again
after fighting for so long
is hard for me to say
there is nothing left for me
in this place.
Jessica
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