Texture of Success

The path of success is one lonely path,
It is diligence that keeps one going,
Just like the branches of a tree,
Each takes its own definite direction

I like to think that it is not the total,
Of dreams that one has been able to harness,
Or the illusions or fantasies that are finally beckoning,
But the many paces taken towards the ultimate destination,

It is the aptitude to recover,
From a heavy stench of frustration,
Overwhelming and almost suffocating,
That made one scared but hopeful,

Success is causing little but visible sparks,
Of light that is brighter than the balmy sunshine,
In a world with virtually no prospects,
That wakes feelings of strength and confidence,

It is that inner feeling of peace,
That rides one to dazzling heights,
To bath in own spotlight,
Being able to stand tall and proud,
Like the trees that embody all freedom

Love life and a lasting smile on your face

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Why I Write

I write because it is my enchantment,
I don’t need to feign my competence,
Of matching and coupling words together,
To a celebrated new meaning,
Away from styled record of blemished sadism,

I am able to put words together,
Words that make me feel relevant and imperative,
In a cold world that made me believe I was small,
Lowest than the lowest vermin,
That forces me to seize myself from all vanity,
My potential makes me to be in the verge of explosion,
Because few seem to notice all that I posses,
I feel invincible and transparent whenever my hand is up,
But words symbolize a clear visage that makes me remain placid,
Words save me from the litany of lies,
Of guilt and self-accusation,
From a shell of despair, sadness and fear,
And bring me to ride in the waves of pure triumph,
Of a man entitled of own dreams and illusions,

Day after day the words keep me going,
Tentatively my caution giving away,
To a world full of glorious possibilities,
Drool dripping from my mouth,
Of the promises of golden moments ahead!

My frail flaws

My dark subtle flaws hold a story,
A story that makes my skin crawl,
A story that seems never ending,
A story synonymous to my superficial denials,
Of what my windfall represents,
An experience beyond dreaming,

My flaws attract instant snares and glares,
Eyes blazing and teeth barring,
Instinctively alerting all my senses,
To the indescribable pain of fear,
Of a demonic fury that may befall me,
Waves of panic cruising through my entire body,

I wish I could forget them like two lovers do,
When lost in the passion of the moment,
Touching, twisting, turning, pressing and panting
Oblivious of anything but their bodies,
Riding around the world an being everywhere all at once,
With the world momentarily being their loyal accomplice,

But I refuse to let my flaws make me a pariah,
From a world that hunts me,
From memories that haunt me,
I will wear and sample them like latest designer outfit,
With a perfume of self-reclamation and pride,
Because after all they are my zealous possessions,
They hold the story of my golden moments!

World-weary fantasy

As a child I was lost in a safe assumption,
Of all innocence of life and endless possibilities,
Beautiful images that I would become one day,
Always colored my heart with joy
A constant anticipation of great gifts

All around me I was blinded by beautiful images,
Pain, sorrows and tears seemed so unreal,
I thought life was about happiness,
Each day to be lived with smile and laughter,
Loving, being loved seemed so natural

Then bit by bit I started growing up,
Then the thoughts started perishing with time,
And just like night after day,
I was alone with an unpleasant vulnerability
My innocence was severely damaged

I arched with a desire to relieve the tension,
Cold reality of the hypocrisy of the moment,
Struck me and left me numb,
Of a ghastly failure I might become,
Relics of my dark soul a reflection of the impending possibility,

Each day I ignore the fatigue, despair and pain,
As I strive to become a desirable member of my own kind,
To reach out and give the small gifts of life,
Embracing my own beautiful flaws,
With my unobtrusive eye am able to see,
A simple human who just needs to love and be loved

Easy Magic!

Aston kamunde

Long standing grudges that are so bitter
Seem to fade and dwindle with the tickling clock,
Slowly unlocking that old spell,
That had chained my life to defeat,

I let in the breath of a second chance,
That gives me a sense of self-reclamation,
A theme of sheer fun over practicality,
My desire to swim under the sun,

I want to believe in simple pure magic,
As I pull myself from this dark abyss,
My heart beating so fast with anticipation,
For the treasure so pure that lies ahead of me,

I crave and rave for a little wind,
For the little flowers that spark joy in my heart,
For the rain that washes away my pain,
Deep pure breath of a calm assurance,
Of a new purposeful beginning!

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Easy Magic!

Long standing grudges that are so bitter
Seem to fade and dwindle with the tickling clock,
Slowly unlocking that old spell,
That had chained my life to defeat,

I let in the breath of a second chance,
That gives me a sense of self-reclamation,
A theme of sheer fun over practicality,
My desire to swim under the sun,

I want to believe in simple pure magic,
As I pull myself from this dark abyss,
My heart beating so fast with anticipation,
For the treasure so pure that lies ahead of me,

I crave and rave for a little wind,
For the little flowers that spark joy in my heart,
For the rain that washes away my pain,
Deep pure breath of a calm assurance,
Of a new purposeful beginning!

Kamunde Family Portrait

Dad..wary and guarded like the rock
So seamless and infallible,
Rests the theme of joyousness, of the triumph,
Of the timeless love, of the calm assurance,
Ordinarily graceful out of pure caution

Mum the sound of peacefulness and comfort…
While the world is so inept at showing love,
She holds the sea of love to offer
If only someone could stretch out and take it,
The pinch of love would be a fleeting, battling fantasy

Eric with the knot of opinion,
Everything sort of folds over itself and is knotted up,
He cuts through all to and fro,
With the possession of no compromise and nor modification
The world only frets and paces

Allen..the bristlier of enough advice
For the bewildered, powerless and confined,
Offers the pleasant, fleeting notion,
That we are not in the hands of fate after all,
Stores a feeling of strength, freedom and definite,

Aston the one from the home of the sun,
Who with a twist of the wrist,
Ups and splits at first little setback,
There lies a theme in every decision,
But he flubs up everything where entry is possible

William ever free and open,
Has a knack for accepting and adapting,
But with a stern purposeful expression,
He cuts through hurt feelings and misunderstandings,
As if the actual weight rests on his head

Bed of shame

Aston kamunde

It stings my skin every time I turn,
The pain so excruciating, it brings tears in my eyes,
My skin screams and wails in pain,
Of a thousand pin pointed thorns,
In this bed of shame

I feel so cold that all my hair stings out,
The loneliness so heartbreaking,
I long for warmth from my kind,
As I seem to be deserted by my own,
In this bed of shame

I feel naked and striped,
Of all my dignity and worth,
They all seem to have dejected,
They have gone away with the sun and left me in the dark,
In this bed of shame,

Fear seems to have taken toil of me,
It has crept into every part and corner of my bed,
It has become the unwelcomed guest,
My eyes desperately pleads for help from the skies,
Can somebody get me out of this bed?

Where is…

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Vindictive Dreary Monster

With brutality and unashamed desire,
Your tentacles stings and penetrates,
Paralyzing all the delicate defenses,
Strangling away all ambitions and all anxiety,

With much joy and selfishness you seem to enjoy,
Crumbling and crippling all the sources,
That once made a healthy nation,
Planting seeds of sorrow and despair,

In their veins flows your poisonous venom,
The jinxed blood that enchains and fails our effort,
As we struggle to stride towards the horizon of prosperity,
You have made our destination an illusion in our minds,

We rave and crave for our freedom,
The flames of desire burning that feat of fear,
And with honesty being our willing accomplice,
We will free ourselves from the cruel hands of corruption,

Surely we will shine brightly like the stars we are!

Sinister Secrets

I walk afraid to imagine,
For am spared all realization,
Of what pattern you have for me,
Is it beautiful, ugly, or scary?

The talented birds are the only saving graces,
With the golden sun dappling softly through the beautiful trees,
All my stances are hoping against hope
Petrified to get your wrath,
Frantically looking for a sign,

Often you have an unforgiving hand,
In a maze of poisonous tantrums,
With no jaded desire to spare,
In an instant you cause havoc and pain,
And also a battling beautiful fantasy,

When I close my eyes in the ending of the day,
To review and reflect on your surprises of the day,
I cuddle tightly with my pillow,
Because it is the only savior of the night,
Life, why don’t you just be good and just good

Every second seems synonymous with the other,
For i can’t shake off this nagging suspicion,
That If I play smile with the tall proud trees,
Maybe you will smile back,
Yes let me smile with you!

Walk of life