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Love is gone

Like autumn’s visit to a tree

Feelings ring through like a gong

on racers’ heel

Charred words

Rip off my smouldering tongue

As a leaf off a coal

Needless to say

the world has moved on

since madiba’s home call

November Night

Feeling poetic

Nights like this

I want to

Strike away

At the keyboard

Like a player

Against a goalpost

I want to

Burst

A vein and bleed

Feelings

Like a cow

At the dairy

I want to

Punch away

Every stroke

In sync with beats

Rocking out

In my head

On a night like this

I want to

Abandon the sheets

and run into the embrace of the stars

For the Love of Words

Let’s meet at the crossroad

Where sacrifices are offered in alphabets

Let’s capture whisper

And mooch out a syllable

Let’s sew syllables

In seamless similes

Let’s plough paragraphs

And pry on phrases

Let’s wring wordiness

For a punch of punctuation

Let’s clothe nouns in gerunds

Adorned in adjectives, flowery verse

Perfumed metaphors and chaperoned by prose

And, maybe, just maybe

We would understand the science of semantics