A Happy Home
Dad doesn't make enough from the books he writes But his smile is strength enough to tuck the kids in at night His hands are dirty with ink And many words are still imprinted in his eyes A lot of them he said But there's still a lot more he holds inside; A Pandora's box he keeps out of sight; A chest pregnant with butterfly words, Eviction notices, Screaming loads of unpaid bills And a memory of their first kiss All swimming softly within the chest Like a calm school of fish, Caressing past the waters without ever knowing the sea His lips quiver As he lands gentle kisses on the children's fattened cheeks as they lay asleep He recites a prayer smoothly As though it is part of the many dead objects in the room It lingers and stays Hangs on the their clothes And glows behind the moon It becomes ambient And sleeps on their skin Climbs up to their necks And rests where there's a heartbeat As soon as everything is warm And his silent tears have left his eyelids tender and soft He clears his throat to make another silent wish And longs for better hands that'll help him mould their dreams His are poor Adjoined to twig like fingers That hate the feel of rough surfaces And resent the taste of thick engine oil But the curse is a tight rope And has them lynched by rabid responsibilities Until silence is what becomes of their voice However, They jolt when their nostrils are carrolled by the acid scent of ink The life in their eyes terraforms pages And seasons a compound of stories on papers that were once blank as milk And speak of worlds he wished his children's eyes could see; Worlds that defeat the fortified pillars of "wants and needs" And ruins the dichotomy of "kings and thieves" While chewing on the legs of society's spineless lores That sends many men to wars that are based on no truthful cause And widows mothers that bear orphaned seeds It always has to be blood and colorful explosions that are forced to declare victory She waits for him in the kitchen Plates are cleaned and there's but a bit of foam left in the sink The sweat from her hair reaches her temples She sighs and looks around The house feels small And the framed memories Replay themselves in her head She smiles at how everything seems a long distance away But how new the words that made her stay all these years still remain; They're still bright eyed And still tickle the insides of her heart Their exuberance pounces and quiets the silence Until she forgets about the holes on her cotton frock And the missing numbers in the dusty old clock Observing her reflection in the silver tablespoon And time's handiwork that now decorates her skin Her wrinkled smile reveals the corner of her teeth He walks in Smiles at her For he, once again, discovered those lights in her eyes; Those intoxicating little lights That makes him ignore the blinking stars And forget the inventory of words he had when he walked through those doors The same lights, That humbled his proud knees And built her tall in front of him Until all that was left was to adorn this deity with a ring And forgive his nerves for being so weak They embrace And dance They can't afford a phonogram So no music plays in the back But they both know the one that's playing in their head ("If it's all gone the other way...And hell is above us;...Heaven forbid!") AS YOUR ROSE, AS YOUR TREE, AND AS YOUR CLOUD Consider me a moment Consider me a passing second in your clock Consider me as evanescent as the clouds See that I can only carry you for a while; From here to there, And accept the colors I'll leave with you as soon as I depart Know that it wasn't a decision I held in my heart, Nor a choice I made within the belly of the dark; I'm forever moving And I hoped you could see it from the start But maybe I hadn't included it in the bind of words I sent to you, Or wrote it so well the way you'd like me to, For sometimes what I want said occurs only in my mind, And out of my mouth, Specs of dust find their way out, But even they fail to say the words i want them to So then, Consider me a monument; Saying nothing but hoping you'd understand; Fleeting away from your sight knowing we might not meet again; Evaporating to nothingness and hoping you'd like me like this than when I was whole instead Learn to love me as I am in fragments than when you could fully cloth me with your hands Enjoy the lines we traced in the sands, And the times that ended that which we thought could never end I never wished to leave you with just memories, And transparent pieces of me you can't cup with your palms, Or afterimages of responsibilities I could've done, As your rose, as your tree, and as your cloud But unfortunately my presence is the one thing I cannot craft And if I could, I'd mail each one of my limbs to you Enough for you to build me up and allow me to spend these quiet nights with you Phantasm seems to be my only art; Planting a rose in your heart but never being there to watch it bloom; Saying the words you want to hear but leaving it to my absence to watch them spark, And I'm always without a pen when it comes to finishing these lines I start, And always without fingers when it comes to fixing such parts So I use my mouth and sometimes my heart But how do I act for you when I have already forgotten my role? And how do I live for you again when I barely understand this same heart's beating tone... And the exact peaks it reached for you when it was only me and you alone? I'm also afraid you won't derive much from my words I doubt I'll be worth your sight, Or even worth your stance as you look over my drying bones Perhaps I'll be written off as a failure As your rose, as your tree, and as your cloud I'll be dwindled in the confines of your heart As one who cherished words but spoke like a liar, And mingled himself within your garden but was never a flower For truly I was nothing, And I am nothing still; I was never anything Maybe it's your fault for seeing in me a fertile land, And then deciding to bury your band of roots within its sands, And maybe I am wrong for posing as such, And dipping your face in such a belief; I may be nothing, But what I could be is a thief No more than I wanted you saved, I was bound to an addiction to leave As your rose, as your tree, and as your cloud But more of a compounded cloud from that trinity to you For when the wind brushes past, My bones shiver for I know it's my time to move I HAVEN’T MOVED. IM HERE. I haven't moved I'm here Still and sound My blood has stopped flowing And I'm knee deep into the ground I search for your name in the sky But everything seems obscured by the clouds The wind has died next to me And all the stars have lost their strength The moon cannot make sense of the night anymore She buries her head in dust And now and then forgets her place in heaven Thus the vast tables of waters wallow and mourn Without direction and clash into each other The earth quivers and begs for their silence All the birds remain in hiding And the beasts are drowning and cannot escape the cadence Questions are without answers Words are as clear as air I cannot tell who I am anymore I do not understand the weight of my fears Nor your chastising hand that's looming above my head You found me within the belly of death Crouched inside my vices And being fed more lies by my own hands At first glance I thought you were the enemy Until you drew near and held open my rose colored eyes You said life can also be found in this darkness And I cannot reach for it if I held on to mine So I begged to die; I begged for death and relief from this plight Because what's the use of breathing when these bones cannot contain life; Like a cracked and broken bowl expected to hold water So I began biting off my skin And hurriedly chewing off my flesh I wanted to get to you even though you stood right before me I was prisoned by an epiphany that you could also be right inside me Because as you spoke, Another voice echoed from within me You stopped me and held me against the wall Your words were shaped like swords But your voice carried the still of a rushing brook I was losing blood But you said it's fine And that you already bled enough blood for me And then I asked you, "what about life?" Before I knew it, I couldn't sustain my tears I crumbled to the ground And huddled amidst my wasted flesh I couldn't bear the despair nor the curse coded in my own name What began to leave my mouth conjured flames And sundered everything thing in that place I was only looking for words But my crippled soul borne destruction And had no hands to mould life or fashion fine existence You wanted me to say something besides the chaos I thought were letters It was somewhere within me, you said So I kept uttering shambles of phrases Nothing with well-structured bones of sense And each time they left my mouth, My own world would twist and badly break apart Every flower began to lose their color The wind in his mighty strides Fell down like an upright pillar And died right next to me Before all was lost, In my huddled stance I closed my mouth The air reeked of decay and cooling ash You remained amidst the mess You sat down cross legged right in front of me Having found no words, I lifted myself up and looked to the sky The earth began to swallow me It was true then that I had lost my fight I could feel the bones in my legs turn to stone My strength was wasted and I nearly destroyed my home "I give up", I said to you You smiled at me and that's when I died I'm awake again I haven't moved I'm here Still and sound My blood has stopped flowing And I'm knee deep into the ground I thought you said you killed all my demons, So why is my own blood on your sword? UNDER A NEW LIGHT (Sol’s Beginning) You told me not to worry about tomorrow You gave me this blank page And left me in the middle of a parched land I forgot who I was But my soul is weighed by memories of home You said ahead of me lies a country where I'll recieve a new name And be given new garments after I feed these ones to the flame But the hot earth has left blisters underneath my feet And the sounds in the wind have a way of surrendering my knees to the ground So what really did you mean when you said "this is a gift"? And why do you hide your face in the clouds, And hide your voice behind the noise of the seas In this utter silence, I should be able to hear your footsteps in the breeze But why am I alarmed by the hoarse peals of yesterday's demise inflating about me; Scratching like a beast on the walls of this reprieve And burning its own lungs while screaming to be set free And like a mad man I wander under the cooking heat Repeating your name until the angry groans sleep And until my knees stop knocking against each other So that I savor the little ounce of air you gave me And steal many more chances to remain still Waiting and longing for something my famished heart should feel I never thought you'd come down and search for me My ears have heard a lot of voices And my eyes bore witness to many ends I've seen pale putrid bodies wrenched And forgotten on the still bossom of river banks With weeds growing from within the coves of their open mouths Then after the countless winds of days I was buried by the rubbles of my fallen kingdom; My timid spine couldn't stand upright when my demons began petitioning for a new king They tore apart my throne and shared the pieces amongst themselves They melted my crown and sundered my robe of red All because I betrayed them by asking for a different life to live Death was on his way after having learnt from them the whereabouts of the dying king But before he wrapped my name in his tongue You appeared above the burning city like a glorious reverie Your speech troubled the tides And sent every frolicking flame to die Death swallowed my name and quickly fled the site I was left nameless desiring the endless darkness And like the other remaining flames, I awaited my turn to die But here I am Every epic of my mighty reign remains embedded in these scars Encapsulated by memories that are only conjured when I choose to look behind me And pretend to see chances of rebuilding what was erected from bitter foolishness Even in the risk of losing what's precious but unknown, Kept and concealed in the windowless promise of tomorrow And this future you speak of should be enough to strengthen my failing eyes But there's not much in sight And there isn't anything more to ask from this barren ground Should I understand that I'm traversing past myself And all that's around me is what I'd behold if I opened up my chest; I'm as arid as the baked surface of this place I'm accented by cracks and ajar empty lines I too have to face the burning sun And miss the wind after not having felt her kiss for a while I too am deemed purposeless by my own thoughts And wish to know of what value I am behind your eyes If this is what you wanted me to see and write down on this blank page, Why didn't you also entrust me with a pen? "Everything is already written down, Sol." How unworthy am I to not see this "everything" you speak of? Why can't you free me from looking at myself as some derelict artifact That has been exiled to a greedy nothingness that begs for more of what I don't have "Everything will be made known in time. For now, this is where you start." Bio: C.J Leonard Kalondi (Christian Jethro) is a poet and freelance graphics designer based in South Africa in the city of Johanesburg. Contact: chrsjthr@gmail.com