Rain

I went to the beach.

It rained, so I left.

There are different types of wet

and being rained on is having your biscuit

licked by a slobbery dog

but the sea welcomes you in the warm tears

of her wide throbbing heart.

finding self

What defines Self?
Girl, white, freckles, short,
this country, that thought?
The phase of the moon when we met?
The greatest fear
the smallest hope,
How many times a mosquito bit?

What is written on Twitter,
that must be it.

It has to be said

You who choose to end your lives yourselves:

When you leave
you leave behind broken people,
you take with you a piece of us.
We will stumble for the rest of our lives
trying to find that fragment
and always slightly long for death
to be there reunited.

It has to be said.

American sentence

Fate will always demand something in return for Tall, Dark and Handsome.

Not named

A strange sweet sadness haunts me these Saturdays.

Time alone in my head.

American sentence

I have lost something, and when I know what it is then I will not be.

Random memory

Me, alone in a tiny granny flat in Potchefstroom. Listening to the rain pounding the parched earth like the sky was crying for her torn-apart soul.

The smell is always like a new beginning.

Youare but youaren't
stayaway gohome
don't count don't care
who are youanyway?
where did itall begin?
how does it end?
Inbetween feeling solost
so fuckingtired.

American sentence

Am I even real, this shambles of a facade wearing thin with use?

awhirl

Here is another contribution from guest splatter sass:


awhirl

i'm staring at the ceiling again

mind reeling

thoughts rushing ceaselessly

fish-tailing

flipping

flitting

fleeing half-formed

and fleeting

my mind reaches to grasp

though there's but air

mere wisps of smoke

swirling

disappearing into whorls of nothing

just an observation

Here is a contribution from another guest splatter, this time it is sass from my whorl. She is quite a prolific poet and often publishes her writing on her blog. Go check it out!


life goes on...

the trash truck does it's rounds,

tow trucks wait

on the edge of the highway -

lions at a watering hole.

motorists carve curious trails,

carom precariously,

swim drunken laps through a sea of

careless cars.

today's headlines line the lampposts

like so many doomsday prophets.

there's so much truth,

so many lies.

i retreat behind the bars

of my eyes...

and life goes on...