Through My Eyes

To the lovers of the written word I present another special collection by Demas which just pulls at the Heartstrings in a way only a poet can. It does have some parts that are quite raw, but Enjoy.

To the Most High
I address
My voice
Barely louder than a
Heartbeat, comes my request
“Lord, let me”

its all a farce.
A façade to
protect our fragile hearts.
Lines written in such earnest
stand as sentinels
at the door of our souls.
so vast on the pen
our tongues, so impotent.
Perhaps its all a farce.

I am held captive by
your eyes.
Enthralled by a kind of pure,
virginal, divine beauty.
Like a song sang by a Siren
a moth to a flame
I, a degenerate
am drawn to you even though
I know you will break my heart
– again.

A simple request
by a parched throat
Chapped lips on chipped glass
I, a drunkard
watch, while draining my doubt
to the dregs
refusing to believe that
such a simple gesture
such a morsel of kindness
such a tiny show of affection
could change the world

A lament sung
from a thousand lips.
milked from a troubled pulp
An elixir
of gargantuan worries
Oh, peace be unto thee, my soul
Recapitulate on thine former glories
Sow thine seed
among fertile acreage
of thine imagination
For what is imagination, but
foresight after hindsight.

Early morning
a pier at peace
The danger of the emerald depths
falsified by the gentle lapping of
the wash on the quay.
The cry of the seagull
– a hokum to those who don’t notice,

I send a kiss
to be carried by the warmth of this starry night
across aeons and constellations,
over rooftops,
skimming above waters
Let it race, full sail, in
the wind
That, when it falls upon
my lover’s lips,
she may still feel the heat
of my passion.

DEMAS: Three crosses, two corpses.
face to face
we admire each other’s
purity beside us
Truth with us
love within me
Compassion, to say the least
only, who feels it?
My time has come
the warmth in my blood
slowly ebbing.
Bring me down from my cross!
Forget me not!
I await the evening

The end draws nigh
the earth calls
to its kin.
Ashes to ashes.
As I slowly fade
I race
the wind in my hair
at equestrian pace
the sun in my eyes
To the horizon
I’m heading home

The tranquil surface of your eyes
The troubled depths of your soul.
of broken promises
and true lies.
I, the devil
from the righteous sanctification
of your tears

She was a thief
She was a murderer
She stole my heart,
killed my self control
She was an arsonist
for she set my passion on fire,
torched my senses,
razed my feelings
She was also a traveler
for with no notice
she left.

souls aligned
each on its own path
As parallel lines
They race on together
never faltering in pace,
never deviating in direction
to a destiny
of companionship.

Your tongue
my lips
My hands
for your thoughts
My life
for your wounds
My feet
at your beck and call
A quintessential life

I apologise
for my lust,
my misdeed,
not done
for the tears,
you have not shed.
I repent
a sin,
I confess
an action,
yet to be planned
Just tell me you’ll come back

I weave a tapestry
of condolence
for this inconsequential life
I paint a portrait
of regret
my canvas still warm with feeling.
Confusing Confucius?
Pillow talk by Plato
‘Stuff does not just happen’
said the Philosopher
for great is He I dwell in,
than he who tries to dwell
in me.

The caustic interior
of your soul
consumes any feeling I
give off.
Any mental intercourse
we enjoyed has since ceased,
our adoration for each otherimpotent.
Let us part ways
each to his own
hopefully, fate will be kind
and distance us greatly

But a vessel
An earthen jar
in simple red och-re
I pour out
all I have from the depths
of my soul.
But a messenger
Touch my lips with hot coals
scar my tongue
with your message.
But a man
An error
Impure in thought
but, sincere in action

In the company of one,
my very breath
Flesh of my flesh
Blood of my blood.
In this place
dreams are made
In this place
where you are,
where we are
is a peace sought after
by the mightiest.
Pure bliss.

two women.
Supple hands to apply fragrance,
myrrh and aloes
on the epitome of selfless love.
Undisturbed linen
Folded head clothe
A celestial message
‘He is risen!’

Hearken thy ear
to the words that
I speak
Come sit at my feet
seeking solace
and find it.
ebb the flow of your tears
quell the clarion call
of your distressed spirit
be still
for when you feel weightless
in your troubles, look down
and see that I carry you.

This far we have come
Sailing across rough seas
Shedding tears
conquering fears
knowing our destiny
second guessing our fate
This far we have come
Endured long nights
Looking forward to the sunrise
with mustard seed faith
This far I have come
Feeling your presence by my side
Knowing that despite an uncertain future
You will be there
-your hand in mine.

Define truth.
A list of constants with a
similar disposition?
Delicate words laid in
an intricate design yet
tough enough to break hearts
and shatter spirits, more often than not.
Define truth
In a few words?
A group of lies that make sense

In due course
I will rectify
my mistakes
I will make truth
to all lies
and to all that’s wrong,
make right
Highlight all discord,
bring an end to strife
Eat humble pie,
kiss ass,
your regular superman in tights.
But for now
leave me to my ignorance

U. S. Africa
These hips
These hips
graceful as the Nile
from the Victoria to the bosom of Isis
From these hips
flows the milk
from the sweet corn, to nourish her offspring.
Between these hips
lies the fertile land
famous of our people.
Below these hips
lay the secrets of man,
our birth canal
our home.

(The following is heart-wrenching)
“I love you”
You said.
“My most precious possession”
As my panties came down
“Our little secret,
if you really love me, it shall remain between us”
As you reached up my thigh
You trembled in pleasure
Your sour breath stung my nostrils
Your cold fingers prodded and pinched
My heart screamed,
my lips held on
for dear life
I am afraid
But Daddy, I trust you,
I trust you not to hurt me

lie sprawled
covered in sackcloth and ashes
My soul derelict
as an abandoned tomb
In me wells anger,
a fury of insurmountable magnitude
the fury of a dead cub and
a wounded mother.
the words are there
and the thoughts and feelings too
For I seek essence, not presence
I seek touch, not scent
I seek joy, not happiness
I seek truth, not sincerity.

I saw the look in your eyes
when I carried your burden
I felt the weight of the world
on my shoulders
The blood, the tears,
the pain.
I saw the look in your eyes
as we trudged through the streets
We were spat on, kicked
and insulted
but it all didn’t matter to me.
I saw the look in your eyes
when we reached the top of the hill
You and the others came to the place of skulls
Yet when I looked,
down deep in your eyes
all I saw was love.

Speak to me
Ghetto child
Speak to me with your eyes
and not your mouth.
Let me look deep
into those murky depths
and see…
The iron roofed shanties called ‘home’
The streams of sewage
and fecal rivers,
Let me see the mutilated needles
still bleeding
pointing to the heavens
in the children’s playground.
Speak to me, ghetto child
Not with your lips
with your pupils
Let me see your eyelids slam
like all those doors did
when you cried for food
and begged for mercy.
Speak to me ghetto child
Use your lips
For I don’t believe your eyes.

I live a mindless existence
A victim of time and unfortunate circumstance
I think of all the times we were together in nostalgia
In the solace of my madness
I seek the pleasure in knowing
also miss me.
I contemplate going down a road of iniquity
which, like me,
is mindless, purposeless
and just exists
as a form. A manifestation of thought
a tangible uselessness.
But to what end?
I test the spirits
to find out which is for me
and which against
For me,
A human spirit,
I am a precious commodity.

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