The Game (Part Five)

The music is loud but I hear my heart beat louder, shot glasses hit the table moral decay in the air as girls drop down to the floor, egos attached to dollar bills and car keys, stumbling for the drunkards red eyes for the druggies, in the club and today I'm one of them, sharks waiting and scheming as they lurk, ready to say anything for the thirst..Ima make my way to the counter, it's feeling like a jack and coke day, after which I will position myself so I can view all prey, pray for the day my game fades away, pray pray and pray  away but that day is not today.. The  club doors reminding me of the promise of heaven from the outside,a paradise inaccessible yet tales of it are passed on from generation to generation,, but this isn't heaven, no streets of gold just bracelets that jingle to the chant of lust.. As I focus on the door I see her enter, Michelle, the only word my mind can think of and my heart beat springs off its syllables as the name is echoed through my system.. She is with a man and he has his arm over her shoulder.. the sound of my heart breaking condones my choice to never call her, then almost like she is feeling my vibe we connect on the same network,eye contact.. her eyes meet mine and I have amnesia of how my legs work, overboiled pasta below my waist so I turn away and grab another girl on the waist as we grind and grind till our self control is well shredded, she turns around I kiss her, my lips keep moving but my heart isn't present, an arm descends on my shoulder, I know the scent from the times I would hold her I turn around and all I see is mascara infused tears looking like an oil spill flowing into niagra, my BP shoots up , I'm the one meant to be hurt, how she telling me I should have known her worth, how she wanted to be with me only to find out that I was just like the others, my voice rises above hers as a reflection of my attitude towards  double standards... "How are you telling me you gave me your heart when you just walked in with another lover"........ Like the end of a rainy night her tears slowed down and were wiped away, no petrichor as her sniffles slowly but surely died down        .....

"Another lover?  I walked in with my brother ".........

                        THE END.

The Game (Part Four)

It's been a couple of days, my fingers tremble over the dial pad starting to notice the lines separating the numbers magnified like trenches and the call button is no man's land ,I start to zoom in on my hands reminiscing of the moments hers traced my body as she drew a map on back whilst her lips where GPS finding the right places, to clear my head I start pacing and wondering what I'd be saying if I searched and found the courage to call her,shit, why bother, I can imagine her shaq'd up with a baller, if I give her love she'll trade it in for whatever he bought her, so keep texting babygirl keep texting away, but I ain't giving you love when I know you'll throw it away,,

Like a boomerang the emotions I try detach myself from return every time I try throw them away, can't indentify what I'm feeling, catching feelings she says she miss me I know I miss her but if I give it a shot I know il miss her.. then it's just me with a broken heart,so if all men are dogs let a nigga  play his part,rather be a pitbull than lose my balance and fall into that pit boo, love, can't let it get too close,when you start calling her boo then these females turn ghost..    

Time to hit the club and leave my emotions at home, get drunk get stoned and bring another one home, type of beauty to wipe away memories of the goddess I met when I see her, No church in the wild,the  survivors are none believers..

The Game (Part Three)

Look at her walking into the restaurant like she owns the place, so confident with those sexy curves but iv got a keep a straight face, even though her structure got a brother all startled, her body looking like this pinot noir bottle, let me pull her chair it's essential to be a gentleman, I'm tryna stand out and not come through like I'm any man,, "You look beautiful, and that smile is priceless" Time to sell dreams, but first let me see what her price is.. "Are you feeling better since our last conversation?"  She say yes and you helped put a smile on my face again,, 2hours in and we haven't had a moment of silence I'm listening and she loving every word I'm saying, girl knows how to hold a conversation,  got me thinking that this one might be worth saving,, she got me smiling like a gadamn idiot, gota reign it in though, she a couple drinks in its time to show some of the skills I got.. 

 "You say you don't have a man, because you can't stand these players, you give em love but all they display is their lust, I get you but I feel like you're being unfair, expecting a brother to approach you like your beauty ain't there, but I should make this clear, I understand where you coming from, it's a jungle out there and niggas wana feast then dissappear, but now I'm tryna make your trust in men reappear, so that when you're feeling down on an Emily sande/Sunday you'll find me right next to you like Jay and Beyoncé " I know the things I'm saying may sound a lil  corny, but if her hearts a field I'ma reap these lines, go figure.. She say I don't trust you, you saying this because I'm tipsy and you tryna take me home.. "Yea, but I'm taking you to yours, we can have coffee then you can show me the door"

{5am}  yea boi! a nigga just hit it, let me leave now, ain't tryna love a girl that give it up this easy...

The Game (Part Two)

0813258964... She gave me her number, now I gota go home and configure a game plan to get her under the covers, what if she wants us to be lovers? Nah these girls love money more than  they can possibly love us, so i'ma play the game until she's mine, but if she get emotional I'm throwing peace signs.. {9pm} okay the phone is ringing  what do I say? I should tell her she's been on my mind, wait women like a man who listens "hello, how was your day?" She said her day was pretty bad her boss don't respect her, she say that's the song he keeps singing soon he will probably eject her, then who gon employ her, if she lose her job she might need to marry a baller.. "girl relax stop making me laugh, and if you want a baller will you give me a cut when you leave him with half?" I'm glad I just just made her laugh, see women like a sense of your humour, if I continue il stay on her mind like a tumor.. "I'm sure he just frustrated that his wife ain't as hot as you, if I was him id probably wana fire you too, but I don't have a wife, which means I have some time on my hands, I'm also hoping you haven't got any plans,see you have some things you want to talk about and I'm a good listener, so I'm hoping you'll let me take you out to dinner... "

The Game (Part One)

He sees her. Her round curves throw curve balls at his value system, she isn't tryna make him lose himself but he has already lost himself in the rhythm of her hips,, she's late for work and keeps thinking about how to  stay relevant as a woman in a man's world, he knows his job is safe so all he can think of is how she looks like she should be this man's girl,he thinks she shouldn't be alone walking around with a behind like that, knowing brothers like me are walking behind her back, let me station myself beside her rack, tell her she looks beautiful and pray she smiles right back, "Excuse me umm hie I'm Jack...... oh your name is Michelle? In that case I'm Barrack".. Oh damn she smiled, phew that line was corny though, focus.." So where you work? A bank? I hope they don't make you stand all day because then I'd expect them to raise your pay, and I'm surprised you know how to walk in heels when some women don't know where to start,watching you is like watching an everyday activity turn into an art, now I don't wana bore you with my observations, so  if it's fine  can you give me your number so I can save it call you later then continue this conversation.........    "

Love for Money (The Trade)

I'm a reggae and dancehall music fan.  Earlier I was listening to a song by Chris Martin called "Paper Loving" . In this song he sings about a girl who can't love him back right now simply because she is engulfed in the chase of the paper, not paper she has made herself but a man with paper possibly made from a tree she has never seen. I get it, we are African and we are in love with nature but it saddens me when I see an obsession with financial greenery which leaves ones values decaying faster than the sight of a bushveld fire spreading. We have condomised this raw fact by putting it under the same umbrella as "financial security". But from my understanding, attaining financial security has nothing to do with breaching your own values in order to gain something you have not worked for. However we can't now begin to say no-one should date a wealthy man, the problem is dating a man BECAUSE he is wealthy. You will create an illusion of love to justify your moral compromise and if the money goes or is given to someone else(after all the monetary system was designed for trade) the illusion will fade away and you will translate that as him not loving you when really he can't love you within the vicinity of the version of love you have created. This is followed by a mistrust of men which a devoted man will have to suffer for in the future and the cycle continues. I'm not asking you to be poor, I'm appealing to a reconstruction of your value system which is designed without a clause which provides for a man being responsible for your wealth. If a woman can give birth to man, give him life, what stops her from creating a good life for herself without depending on him?  

Next, I address the men.

Everyday, I miss my mother.

I remember as clear as day the darkest day of my life.. She told me to go and call my father and by the time I returned she wasn't alive. My world my universe. Heaven had separated me from my source of life and love. My tears caused and wiped away by memories of her. Her smile and her gentle nature. She bought me ice cream everyday on her way from work. Thousands of cigarettes later not only have I become lactose intolerant , I've distanced myself from any emotion that is a reflection of what she gave me. So the world saw what I became but no-one noticed what had made me, me. She named me Ashwyn which is Star,as if she knew that she would reside in the heavens and being her little star would be the only way we would stay connected. Before my birth, she had a miscarriage , after me, she lost a child within two months, I was her only one . Was my life tailored this way so that I wouldn't be able to share the pain  I feel everyday , that I couldn't look at a brother or sister who could atleast be an earthly reminder that she was here whenever I  looked in their eyes. Or was it a sign from God that I was meant for a greater purpose? I don't have the answers, and I'm not afraid to be wrong.I don't need to be right when I know that iv been destined to be alone away from her  away from myself just an instrument to be played by the world so that people can smile when  they hear me, so that I can bring happiness to their souls when  they see me perform. The stage has been my home, all I've ever wanted is to know that after the applause  , I can walk backstage and find her waiting to hug me tight and tell me she is proud of me..

On behalf of the dogs, I'm sorry (Poem)

How often  do men get away with hurting the ones who raise generations of Kings, the ones who put soulfood on our dinner plates. Our lovers, these mothers and caregivers, these life dispensers and protecters. Women. So this poem is on behalf of the dogs who have had the gall to call Queens bitches. Hopefully they can find the courage to apologise for the spirits they have destroyed in-between these lines...

Sometimes I feel like  when I care that's the recipe to losing myself, but I've reached for the sky too much not to know that I can't fly by myself, so I look out for myself but that just results in me being excluded from myself, emotions tend to stir my boat so all my relation-ships sink, but when I think about it I'm the one who was supposed to have been cautious about it, should have rested your anger as soon as I found it,just that sometimes when a heart squeals no one knows where the sound is, but when I'm alone I hear it loud and clear so I wanna clear the air before I choke on my words, I care about you and I'm sorry the disrespect, sometimes kings need to take their crowns off so they can recognise Queens and know what they expect..

African Goddess (Poem)

This one is for my African Queens. The ones who value themselves, and the ones who don't stop trying, the ones who drink from the fountain of wisdom so are never controlled by thirst. The ones who figure out how to get things for themselves before trying to craft plans that involve manipulating men to get things for them. The Feminist, The Goddess.

Enjoy .

Have you seen her? Natural hair, she doesn't care about what you think but loves it when you notice the glory that is her beauty the  halo resting on top of  her dreadlocks, heaven created a goddess to be a reflection of its streets of gold and in these streets she walks, high heels high morals and even higher goals,the  swing in her hips matches the cha cha on her bun buns, the jive in her bossom in synch with the walse in her step, graceful and intelligent won't twerk to stay relevant, perfect  grammar cuddles her tongue so her speech is eloquent, her self respect evident, whenever they approach wearing moral decay in  gti's or converses conversing about  poetry or money hoping she grabs onto the mirage, art or pinotage but she can't be seduced by words or bank balances, because her standard is a good heart and a beautiful mind so she pays them no mind when they pay attention-, that's profit,,her inner self forever looking better than her outfit, she values herself so no man can define what her worth is , always believed that even though fucking is fun waiting for love is worth it, if its easy to  get you in bed its hard to care about your heart without having to fake it,so they had better show her love first before she let's them make it, never  listening to lies and cover ups she loves the truth when it's naked,, A goddess a queen a lover a leader, look  in the mirror and reflect often enough and I bet you'll  see her.

21st Century Girl (Poem)

I wrote this poem thinking about the experiences the modern girl goes through all in the name of love and or a happy ever after. I use some well, "flowery" language. However I don't dilute my words as they leave my mind so feel free to leave this blog if you can't handle some adult language. And don't worry about my punctuation, I know I don't.  So here it is... 

Twerk
  hurt
    love
      inhale
       release
        try
         fail
          sleep
           felacio
            fashionable,
sensitive senses sensing incentives to improve ,emancipation from being poor in the head but her ego is a tumour so she grows a big head because they tell they love her when she's giving head, he will put her to bed but never leave her mind at rest, restless nights engulfed in self doubt he isn't there to listen so she speaks to herself  "does he love me? who's he touchin hugging mind fucking?"I'm the only one he should be lying to and lying next to,if she can ride him then I can flex too" now all she wants to do is improve the sex through videos of women in their lowest form eating and swallowing seeds like vitamin tablets "I'm sure he will stay if I ride it and hide it inside me,maybe he will stop loving everyone besides me.." Meanwhile he just playing the game 30love, lovers receive deuces and backhand slaps, tears pouring out like opened taps he just surfs through all the gaps, spaces between what she should do and what she might do,the perfect seducer leaving her weak for weeks it doesn't feel like a weekend every time the week ends, she loses friends he gains faith in his ability to fuck them, now she needs their after 5glasses of wine wisdom but doesn't trust them, he leaves her alone the way she came into the world ,calling him lover and bae don't make him stay or make her his girl.

Bloody Resolutions

Resolutions. We love making them, why? Because humans love the "idea"  of a new start, pressing reset, recreating ourselves blah blah blah
I think it's okay honestly it's just annoying to hear and read about it  every single day. That's another thing, why do we still seek validation ? If your resolution is to talk to God more often, why post it on Facebook?That said, if there is an account I do not know of please do tag me, I'd love to talk to heavenly hosts via Facebook and figure out if all dogs really go to heaven because I'm truly concerned about some of the stuff iv seen, plus I'd be dammed if I let a puppy poop outside my golden mansion, it will probably devalue the property . Alright back to it, resolutions,  make them but for Christ's sake keep them to yourself, after all they are for you not for the world. J Cole (rapper)  once sang "if they don't know your dreams, then they can't shoot them down".

Why not?

Does it make sense to have a blog? Well honestly I think it's just about as important as a weave to a black woman, sure it seems like everyone needs one but we get on just fine without them. However I have allowed myself to be a slave to the question which has preceded many an adulterous encounter (not mine, my personal life isn't nearly that ermm entertaining)  yes the same question which inspired all forms of spontaneity - Why not? Why not indulge in the idea that some people might find the time to enjoy reading about me writing about me. Yes that sounds narcissistic but aslong as Simon Cowell is alive I'm pretty sure heaven is giving us some free coupons knowing very well we cannot match him. Back to the topic, why not? Why not share my stage experiences, my poetry and my view of the world? I'm sure a cynic will find an answer to this question, but until that time comes allow me to introduce myself - My name is Ashwyn, and I'm the Jack of all stages...