Holding the Mic & DB
Now seriously.
Please.
FFS.
Learn how to hold a f***in’ microphone/dumbbell.
Put some blood, grit, purpose, passion, rigour, in your grip!
singer
Crickets & Magpies
Last night,
as I sang outside the club,
by the glamorously decorated
leafy tropical flora,
crickets joined in.
Raising my eyes
under the dim lights,
right opposite my stage
a pub sign read “The Magpie”,
just to see two magpies fly by
immediately after.
Crickets singing,
Magpies witnessing.
Rare to see,
in an urban setting,
all gathering around a singer.
Red is my Colour
It has always been.
Reflects the blood under my skin.
Enhances my fire,
or at least the blaze of its now dull desire.
It drives my swaying hips,
projects flares,
does magic tricks.
It justifies a sultry lingering air.
Full Moon
I am mesmerized by the moon.
Sovereign and spruce.
Like beauty, it grows, it fades… quietly.
It oversees lovers’ promises,
blood rites and sworn secrecies,
wolves’ howls.
Way too pretty
She’s somewhere but not here,
Way too pretty for this city.
Way too open for the game.
Many come and go
taking as much as possible
without thinking, consequence or care.
They just are.
She just is, too.
GraciFit 