Jaachi Writes

Keep Me Safe till the storm passes over keep me safe from caving in till the thunder roar no more keep me safe from imploding till the clouds take a walk from the sky keep me safe from these dark thoughts till my fears are knocked over keep me safe from myself and my doubts till my tears flow no more keep me safe from becoming one with the waves till I unction all the 'whys' keep me safe from my thoughts suicidal till we talk it over in the place of prayer keep me safe till the storm passes by #WeShallFindJoy #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!  

Be You. That's What You're Born To Do It throws back all it receives with a glow: Be like your mirror. It stays true to itself in days bright and dreary nights: Be like your shadow. It takes humans to heaven and back an assurance that life's worth the living: Be like a moan You're not just a boy, son you're the light of dawn crawling over mountain tops Glow. Be you, for that's what you're born to do #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!  

ode to self dear stefn, your laughter is delightful and so is everything else do not let your mistakes hurt you find strength in the experience your words mean more than you think they do your opinion is worthy to be shared your songs are capable of being sung and so are your three sixty five poems when next your fears knock on the door send them fleeing down the stairs then sit back like your father's son and read your archive of poems and if your bare chin they mock tell 'em you've got inner beard #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!  

If My Body Is A Jacket if my body is a jacket let it be a temple for the music human's fail to dance to, let it cling to the ears of my soul caress my spirit with symphonies and keep me warm from every biting cold of betrayals if my my body is a jacket let it sinew my bones from thorns-laden roses and be an underground cave that shields my soul from the tornado that descends from heights of hopes lest i be uprooted from my sole to float about like the hangman's rope if my body is a jacket let it be like stanzas of a poem tattooed  on my flesh like a mosaic of many random happy memories -  soothing.   Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!

A couple nights ago, while chatting with a female friend, she asked to how how I am coping without anyone to talk to, in the neighborhood. I replied: 'I am coping pretty well. Thing is, although I am alone, I am not lonely'. Friend: 'It's pleasing to know that you're not lonely.'  Of course, being alone and being lonely aren’t the same. Loneliness feels draining, distracting, and upsetting; desired solitude feels peaceful, creative, restorative. According to Wikipedia, loneliness is a complex and usually unpleasant emotional response to isolation. Loneliness typically includes anxious feelings about a lack of connection or communication with other beings, both in the present and extending into the future. As such, loneliness can be felt even when surrounded by other people. I do not feel lonely, not because I have a romantic partner to fall back to whenever loneliness beckons. Not because I have a thousand and one friends who drop by to gist, chat, laugh and ta...

WRITE ME A POEM: STARS AND SCARS write me a poem about stars and scars, would you? begin the second verse about how close to tears it could get when scars, skin deep, bite through the sole into my soul, until i forget to remember to count the stars which still wink at in dark nights though surrounded by the blackness of darkness. in the third verse, tell me how 'twill all be over one day, and remind me again; can one experience happiness without a brief requiem of sadness? can one get so high as though the lows would never surface? would you write yet another verse, the fourth? if yes, make a long line linger along an alliterating alternative universe until the black hole that suck in sweetness appear as a different colour with the texture of rainbow, so at the end of life into the beginning of afterlife, i will remember the days, when close to the edge, a line from a verse of a poem was, like a life line, let down a well To save the shards remainder of me from swirling in the arms...

I'm trapped, trapped inside myself, I want to get out, get out and be free. I don't want to live in my shell, But I'm scared, scared to take away my mask. Friends are forever letting me down, no matter how close they are. They are there if I have a problem, but when I don't I may as well not exist. I want someone to trust and care about me, someone to cry on and someone to listen.  I want someone to love me for who I am, not the masked me whom everyone knows. Unfortunately none of this can ever come true. Not from someone on planet earth anyway.  No one I know is perfect. This includes me. No one I know can fulfil this. Neither can I. Except... Someone I know who is watching down on everyone of us. I hear He has a special plan and a purpose for anyone who turns to Him.  There will still be hardship and sorrow, but these will make us strong. He can be trusted. He is ever so faithful.  He cares deeply about each person on this earth.  He can be cried upon, and wil...

POEM 331: NO GREATER LOVE If I could have just one wish, I would wish to drift into slumber with the sound of your breath on my neck, If I could have a second wish, I would wish the warmth of your lips tattoo the signature of affection on my cheeks, If I could have a third wish, I would wish the touch of your fingers do to on my skin, what Beethoven did to piano keys, If I could have a fourth wish, I would wish your heart beat, with mine, sync but what wish would fantasies fathom, knowing that I could never find these things, with anyone other than me? so here I am, in bed with me, my breathe rolling off my nostrils, unable to reach my neck my lips pout in mock kisses, unable to paint blushes on my cheeks my fingers tickle my thighs, and trace the magic lines on my palms heart in sync with the music in my head, no greater love than this, that I have, for me #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading?  Please leave a comment and share with friends.  Thank you!  

POEM 326: SELF LOVE dear me, hidden in shared words and synced thoughts, everything finds purpose in your embrace, warm melodies from my heart flow into your ears, do you love my funny dance steps? I won't stop till I get enough, I can't get enough like constellations in outer space, you feel every vacuum, falling in place reaching beyond our reality, and rehearsing unlearned verses of our fantasy, I willingly, shall collapse into dreams borrowed and in the loamy of your affection, burrow until I'm many inches deep into you until I become one with you, ne'er will I give up on you with love, yourself. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading?  Please leave a comment and share with friends.  Thank you!  

POEM 303: SELF APPRAISAL Some times, I like to think I'm a hair of the Father. Co-hair with Christ and Afrocentric in all sense of it Other times, I like to think I'm a beautiful face, drawn in shades of grey by an artless dame. In between these times, I like to be the best version of myself, living up to no standards of men, loving until all is spent, learning, unlearning, relearning. Aye, this is not a poem. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and sharing with friends. Thank you!

SPECTACULAR ME Stealthy I walk Trying to hard to be brave I dread to blink lest they see my tears. Stealthy I sneak Through their raised brows I dare not blink Lest they see my fears That was then Fast forward to now Grey glasses Green grasses Glasses that shine Now mask my tears with glittering stars Smoke glasses Smiling faces now greet me on every side Googly glasses Dark glasses in the sunshine I can now see clearer because I've got mine. #Pengician #SSA

Whenever I need expert advice, I'm the first that comes to mind. So I sit me down and talk sense into my head.  It's not pride. It's not weird. It's not insane. It's normal. Your parents do it. You. I. We. All. Do. It. Either with words spoken or thoughts ruminated upon. Talking to one's self is cool. Sometimes one needs to move away from the crowd, sit and talk to oneself, tell one what's going on and what one should do and how to go about it.  I feel talking to oneself sometimes gives one this inner strength that one can do just anything. Actually talking to yourself is a sign of intelligence. So, if you're among those that do it, you're wise. Genius. Normal. Super intelligent. Keep talking to yourself. Alright? You're not a retard! But complaining to yourself while walking on the road is a sign that you need a shrink's attention.  Make communicating with yourself a habit. Trust me, the emotional bliss and mental relief can be quantified...

POEM 191: A NOTE TO ME and your root shall dig deep                into the core of her and your green shall blossom                like flowery plants and the fruit of your labour               shall be birthed by her until then, live deliberately, love intentionally, laugh carefree. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA

POEM 159: BECAUSE MAMA LOVES ME SO She said: 'Steve, your heart is a room of beautiful secrets and whimsical bliss. 'A gift wrap of graciousness and a cup of sweetness' Certainly that has remained in my heart like the consciousness of God in man. Her words reflect as light in my eyes, as beauty on my face. I can say that the nice words of my mother beautifies my day. 'Steve, your heart is...' And when mama's words echo again I giggle in sweet refrain as the sun captures, in rainbow lines, the sly sight of me. The view of it is breathtaking. Now take a look at me and you'll see the most beautiful and romantic sunset in the world, because mama loves me so. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA

POEM 90: FLAWED She may not pride in a thousand strenghts Nor blow her horn so loud for all to hear. She is flawed made of clay and unrefined steel a female of definitions of style of reason of smiles and shades of black. Humble, she is, strong enough. She's got a ton of flaws: Her heart, a mess, yet pure. Her soul as fine  as a baby's smile. She's flawed yet beautiful in every form. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA

POEM 71: I NEED A FRIEND I need a friend that will sit beside me when pain finds its way into my heart. Together, we will sink in it Until I feel it no more. I need a friend that will say no word When I fall into depression Whose silence shall mutter whispers of comfort Until I find my joy. I need a friend that will dive with me Into the pool of dreams Though we drown, we'll be fine underwater Assured we've got our backs. I need a friend that isn't you. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA

POEM 58: I KNOW WHO I AM They say I'm an old man  trapped in a boy earthen suit; Whether na true dem talk or na lie,  I know who I am. They say I'm a curious blend of reserved a good kind of weird, crazy, loving, petty, loyal and whatnot; Whether na true dem talk or na lie,  I know who I am. They say I conceal smiles in a mask of unspoken words; Whether na true dem talk or na lie,  I know who I am. They say I'm this, that and many other things in-between They place labels where tags aught not to be; Whether na true dem talk or na lie,  I know who I am. # 365DaysOfPoetry # Pengician # SSA

To be stain on your white To be a scar to your beautiful To be a black on your white To knock off shadows off your bloom To bore a hole in your heart To connect dots you ignore To make you full and make you thirst To rattle you bones when you're gone To fold you in my shivering arms To trace a smile on your wrinkle To leave you longing for my smile To make you loath being single For this purpose am I here. #Pengician # SSA

The world sleepeth, not I whose rest flees when I hear the yearning cry Like the wailing knell in the churchyard ...and Bezaleel the son of Uri within comes alive. He teacheth my fingers to weave Worlds bygone and coming on leaves. I sail wherever with my disguised sceptre. Returning with a thousand ethereal sheaves. O Prisoner behind the bars of my soul What gainest thee so That thy errands hath made of me A mortal never my dreams told? What meanest this quest my pen doth run Like a thirsty hart after a pond? Night after night springs this strange lust And every adventure is a mystery born. The clamour of thy fiery harp Charms my heart like honey drops I yield as a man to the snare of a seductress I lay my seven locks on thy laps. It is now I who stands obsessed Keeping you alive like a songbird. I am holding tightly on what once was straw And my lips branded like the psalms of the blessed. No whiskey, rum, nor ale Doth taste like a mug from my inkwell. My ravished soul can no more wi...

I THINK I FOUND MYSELF Tonight, I am white and I am full. My smiles are dim and borrowed from the Sun's glow but you don't mind. My surface is all curves and craters, dust and nothing else my face litters, but you don't mind. I have travelled alone through the vacuum of dark, training my mind for this task, building no walls around my heart planting landmines on my tongue watching as you build engines and spacesuits gearing up to come to my cosmic suite. I am the kind of territory you were born to navigate. I am the path you were trained to trade. I am the terrestrial ball you were born to conquer. You know by heart every treacherous route through these white dunes that litter my faint hue. You have drawn maps of my every scar and devices instruments to monitor my rise and my fall my hideout in snow and fall. And you find me. You take me. With your space shuttle And crew of happy 'nauts You leap into the sky pierce through the clouds farting from your behind black fume ...