|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
STUCK IN BETWEEN
It's all about your fancy words and egocentric personality.
You long for the high places, the praises that befall your majestic carpet And am just this poet laureate wanna be You see adoring your flaws.
Have you thought of seeing me as a potential partner?
Not for your cat walk but for the good and bad walk.
Am lost in your game of off and on.
I can't guess what's on your mind, so highly tucked in your tuxedo you show mixed feelings like a pair of buttons on your mixed colour shirt hidden inside.
Am confused, this mixture of confusion has me in another man's pathway.
Am at crossroads.
He tells me what I don't want to hear but what I need to hear because he means it and his eyes can show.
His gaze commands a response from me but here I am waiting to decipher between you two.
Am bleak and blank.
Am tossed backward and forward.
Am stuck in between , so here I am searching your inner chambers.
Feeling safe in your blissful air, I feel safe in his voice.
Feeling teased in your hidden emotions, I feel like I'll lose something if I choose him.
Feeling loved in your sarcasm, I feel loved in his vulnerability and words of assurance.
I just want the best but I can't see past what am shown.
I can't feel past a turtles skin am just but a hurt girl seeking true love in a vast land.
If loving you is a sin then am running relentlessly to the alter where I belong.
©? HK
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
It was supposed to be a prayer together for starters.
Still as fresh as the morning breath I take, I took in your face from the side for starters.
I held on to that negligence I partook of .
Had I held your hand then maybe it wouldn't have taken me this long to know I rose in love 10 times higher than my fears.
I didn't expect this turn of events.
I mean you of all people had to be the MC of my heart's events.
I didn't see this coming.
I was too busy convincing myself I'm an independent contractor when I had already signed the love contract your presence brought with it.
How do I face myself now that even my heart can't tell my mind what's happening.
I'm tossed in a corner of queries, what is it that made me melt this fast?
It definitely was your smile that first tripped me over with a touch of a fist bump until I met your hilarious side, I laughed hard that I didn't feel any aftermath pain.
I prayed for so long to have my heart beat again and it had to be you.
I'm happy love grew in my heart and I don't expect you to do the same.
My love is enough to make me deny the truth and believe the lies playing in my mind.
I don't love you for something you possess, I love you and your beautiful soul with all your imperfections.
I have written love before but this one is tenderly from my heart for I'll break when you go but I'll be more than happy to let you go .
I live to rejoice in this place .
To cherish every moment spent.
To live in the moments long gone and sigh with relief.
Love is a beautiful thing when it's not forced.
Oh, what can I say, the universe had it's own ways of playing me at my ignorance .
It placed me in awkward situations to make me realize how high I had risen without recalling the moment I tripped over.
I wish you the best of life.
Love from the girl that built walls so high that she had to climb them herself unknowingly and now she's on the other side.
Beautiful things happen when one is busy getting ahead.
If you're just passing by, thank you for I have learnt my heart can beat too.
Take a sip, free your mind and see all the ultraviolet rays take the rythm of your dances into motion.
It's an uphill journey, there's no easy way out.
Love will come your way too when you're ready to believe.
You won this time and I'm the fool who fell when I was climbing higher.
That's the way it is but it'll be lonely here when you're Gone.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
MAN'S PLEA TO BE LOVED
Like a hound dog bound in chains.
Every man races about drenched in rains.
Looking for shelter.
Looking for warmth in the arms of a beating heart.
Like a mad man running the streets, no one to run to...
Every man hides in a shelter of no rejection.
Broken consistently,
Searching continuously.
It is disheartening to see such a piece cut loose from every man.
He just wants love.
But who will love him right?
If not his looks then his pocket must chain him up in lies.
Love is all he seeks.
No one is willing to love him.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
As a poet solves puzzles of life .
My ink draws lines of "symmetry", to align the brokenness of my uncalculated moves.
I'm no poet but a broken Clay pot with unheard words.
Broken to pieces, I bleed words to meet right at the symmetrical point of my brokenness.
Made of clay, I break when misunderstood.
Boiling with a ladder of incomprehension these misunderstandings I can not fathom.
If I do I'll be right at the bottom.
Broken to pieces as broken Clay .
I run in a broken relay.
At the mercies of the match maker I plead brokenness.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
It's a dejávu
I can't really give a clear view
I could be blind for all I care
But my heart beat is a drum I can't ignore
This feeling is rare
I have fallen only to sustain bruises severally
But this fall is somewhat different
It comes with a bonus of sensations I can't quite explain
If I was a pencil
I would sharpen my graphite alittle bit more to highlight what I feel
But I can only align this to love
The only cacoon that opens to beauty
A painful shell to break but not one can resist
Lately I've been love thrilled like never
It's scary to admit but I'm not ashamed
If my drum beats are scribbled with your name
Would you dance to my tune?
Not to be a laughing stalk
But the road to my drum storage room right in the septum of my heart.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
LOVE IS BEAUTIFUL ??
Am slowly learning that love is an antidote.
Am slowly getting Disney fairytale dreams webbed in my brain cut off.
Yes I thought love stories are always prince charmy kind but here I am with a laka type yandi charm.
Love is a sinner coming to dinner in a pool of baptism water.
Love is not a fabricated decor of honey and cream.
Love is a high table decor filled with thorny roses yet the colour it adds is irresistibly beautiful.
Love is a beautiful thing when you find a fellow rose stuck to your branch.
Love is a beautiful thing that flourishes without being pricked yet blocked on both sides.
Love is not in words but actions.
The beautiful beast I've learned to love because within lives a handsome heart that knows how to treat me right.
A heart that bleeds heavily when am heartbroken.
Because we synchronize and locate each other.
Love is a beautiful thing when we know that it's about giving and not receiving
Love is a beautiful thing when we rise in love to fall in cadence rhythm of oneness.
Love is beautiful when it's not based on external colour but Pollen on anthers that attracts bees like the mees.
Love is beautiful and that's the bottom line.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
You're a pain that hurts in the right places
You stabbed my heart and killed me right before the tongue hit the septum of my heart
Emotionally battered
I have been victimized by my circumstances
Tying my heart up in strings
Stealing my dignity and making me a prisoner
I long to be bound free
But constrained to this jail cell somewhat feels right
Had my father acted his part right
All this behind the scenes drama wouldn't be what the public sees
But here we are and all I wish is for this moment to seize
Enough of self pity
I am not the first person to be neglected by their father
I am not the first person longing for a father figures love
And that's where I have it all wrong
Healing doesn't come from whining and dining with pain
Reciting it day and night like it's a galaxy of change
I am the broken crayon with beautiful colors
And I won't colour the world without trying to do so amid my pain
Don't feel pity for me
I have my full limbs intact
Speech perfectly orated
What more can I ask for?
The heavens are besides me every single day of my way and so to be circumspectly broken is all I circumstancially want right now.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
Pain squizzes life out of my paralyzed mind and it feels like a grain of sugar under attack from ants.
Induring comes with an ocean of tears
Never ending and excruciating
Sending my body into manifestational shivers
Needing an escape with immediate effect
Every nerve is hyperbolically numbing
Enough to shut doors when the world outside peeps into my life
Darts of mental disorders are hurled at me , my mind is infested with anxious ants nibbling on my confidence
Looking for rest I drown my fears and anxieties in a slumber.
Echoes of numbing pain pin me down as I crawl to the exit door
Shaky knees won't hold me for long lest my life I lose without the anchors of heaven.
So I pray and become the prey
Failing to comprehend my period of testing marathons from my predator
I fail to testify for the man at Calvary playing scavenge hunting for my sake
Not wanting to form scars to avenge
Every single day I seek him, he lifts my fallen face and reminds me of his might
And when my enemies attack he is my shield in this tag of war .
So I know when my iniquities hide his face I'll tag him to my place of refuge
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
When the clouds are high up in shape. My mind is high up in resolutional escape. When the sun is overhead, the soles of my feet overheat.
The more I walk, the more the ground I track blazes up and the clouds roll in a mob like they are running a marathon.
Where are they going to?
Why am I still walking? Should I join them?
Is time on their side ? Is it on my side?
Is it on your side?
Time ain't on anyone's side.Do that which you ought to do in this second, for in the next the cloud would have shifted and changed it's shape.
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2021
|
Details |
Hazel Kalata Poem
Let me start without an apology
Because you, honey, need not be in apiculture
Every second you bee apiece apiary
As I fall for your rich honey droop apace
Take me to space if you must but never cause apathy
Because you dug in my heart with a never closing aperture
And when in your presence I fumble on words like one with aphasia
Darling the gospel you preach to me makes you an apotheosis of an apostle
Sometimes your therapy I take like you were an apothecary
Or maybe you are but again you make me aplomb
Knowing fully well you're the apostrophe
That omits my imperfections like an apparition
Let me make an appeal
Because if I don't all this might not be applicable
So I appreciate your every applause
As I apprehend
This love you shower me with a posteriori
Copyright © Hazel Kalata | Year Posted 2023
|
|