metaphoricalworldwanderer-blog

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A noble death (at The Margin) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_jUpDWjoPd/?igshid=c7l9crafcr49

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"These writings are not poems, but they are my mental asylums." <3

[metaphoricalworldwanderer-blog]

This blood show is titled 'Inherited Dysfunctions' and it was performed at the Fresh Poetry Tour, a 21 City Tour hosted by Fresh Impressions featuring Siphokazi Jonas and Emmah Mabye.

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Regarding Inherited Dysfunctions...

#PerfomancePoetryMyMentalAsylum

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My writers philosophy is explained in this body of work titled 'Coping Mechanisms'

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Knowledge is not enough, we must apply! Willing is not enough, we must do!

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In My Dreams

In my dreams I tread happily on the path of vulnerability with ease, for I am just like a king who is at peace because of walking in the confines of his own majesty. See I confidently wear my heart on my sleeve without having to keep it guarded with walls built like a fortress because of fear that it may be shattered by a joker disguised as a queen, who makes diamond promises to always remain by your side when they are eventually bound to leave you for the next Jack who will lift up a Jill on a pedestal hill, sweep her off her feet and pull her away, till the only things that remains are fragmented memories of what used to be... before the only thing you could feel was the piercing pain of a broken and heavy heart that bleeds.

In my dreams I am not haunted and plagued by the loud echoes of a full melodic reality of scars and wounds which makes regret sing, but my eyes remain steady and fixed on a future that carries no rear view mirrored reminders of what was and what ifs which are more heavier than what is. My dreams are a happy place devoid of the barriers of time and space where I get the chance I always miss when I’m wide awake, which is to relive treasured moments that have passed and regain the lost time that has elapsed... but sadly these recaptured moments never last as I always wake up to fast.

Even though life is a canvass that becomes the art that you chose to paint, the dawning sun-rays of a new day are always cruel enough to remind me that I’m no artist, for life is sometimes a battle that is the hardest to face and a test I’m not the smartest to take. Therefore as my eyelids sink like the Titanic till my iris is drowned under darkness, my heart is at its happiest because in my dreams it no longer has to remain guarded from Cupid who is so childish in not knowing that the human heart is only a blood-pump and not his target! See in my dreams wedding bells are not alarms that keep cautious from gambling with my ability to trust by settling down with someone like dust, but in the euphoric land, the love lost in me finds redemption and closure as I learn to become vulnerable and open up my bottled emotions although hope placed in mortality is bound to become hopeless.

Although the bliss experienced in my dreams could never last, it is still more than enough because my dreams are my aspirin to the tragedies of life mixed with pleasure in a Styrofoam cup that has gotten me drunk. Therefore if you should ever find me asleep venturing in my dreams, please just don’t wake me up!