This Head Aches

How did it come to this?
lies like irritating flies
buzzing around bull shit
taking the piss
as I enlist my signature
to post my feelings
like a letter
i only want better days
or
should i ignore
like those childish dreams
long time gone
faded away
like
forgotten bedtime prayer's
fade into reality like
the smoke of black coconut incense
i am not playing
looking for an ending
headaches descending
my eyesight merging,
thoughts
like theses
are blissfully
disturbing
me:
patiently waiting
like an oil painting
in the process
brush strokes
tickling
irritating
tormenting me
as i beg
stop please
making me look stupid
like a fool in love
struck down
by cupid
who is this?
dont know!
buzzing i hear
and they became my
companion
call me shit
yes, good shit
the same
you think is cool
and easy to fool
but i know
i mean, knew
throughout your sweet soothing
political talk-talk
you, with whom
my mind stalks
and as much as i try to help it
my brain channels curses
into the solar waves
tired of this repetition
I am not insane,
This happens everyday
talents wasted
violated
underpaid
but
I will NOT,
take this
with me to the
Grave!
Or the afterlife
to and from
before
my laws
will guide me
and keep my harmony intact
like the rays and light and heat
connected to the Sun.

[pauses and reflects]

Taking my head out of your ass
once again!

Period!

when will you stand for me?
believe in me?
am i a scape goat?
or better still
a black sheep
yes my wool
will keep you warm
same way
undeniably
no constantly
overlooked
Denied and
pushed to the side
strong i am indeed,
was an inherited quality
from before
I became a seed
so god damn
I must
Succeed!

I wonder
when
'High I'
will grant
the wings
of Achilles
to take me into
a place before time
called destiny,
hope she stands near
next to me
truly
and woo me
there,
where here and now,
I disappear.

Shaun Gordon aka Donusho 31/12/2010 ©

Locked off (Dear Locks)

Locked off (Dear Locks…)

Proceeding with one two three,
Into darkness of uncertainties…

Dear Locks,

You will be dearly missed
Cutting you off was the last thing
I would ever do.
What you meant to me…
Where do I begin.

Since I was seven,
I wanted long hair
My Mother said no
To cornrows, funky dreads
And anything over an inch!
I used to flinch
At going to the barbers
Thinking they were
Cutting a life form away,
Apart of me alive

So
I celebrated my manhood and freedom
and grew my locks,
You reminded me
Of small little maggots to begin with,
Comb twist.

Months grew into years
And you were already shoulder length.
Thick brown and beautiful:
A symbol of strength, determination and
Perseverance.

This look I had was so unique,
apart of me,
I deemed it unimaginable to be parted away from you.
You were like my first and everlasting true love
Because you helped me identify, myself.
You were there through thick and thin.
Only to realise it was only for a season
Where uniqueness is truly and always,
Residing in the heart.

But it’s hard:
As I watched
The blades embraced
And cut you into two, apart.
I can hear you screaming,
Colour-blind as though I were
Watching a black and white film
Day dreaming a nightmare.

Then a humming bird
Whispered in my left ear
‘I am not my hair’, (India Aries)
Making my heart break the day like the sunshine.
So removing you would be like moving the clouds away
Yet I would still like it to rain.


Were we secret lovers having an affair in broad day light?
Tell me, we are not breaking away
Yet, its so evident that we have grown apart.
Proceeding with four, five, six, seven, eight
Its too late,
As you fall like duck feather on the floor.

Self reflection.
Of embracing the new,
Staring like a child unsure
Of what to do.
Dark brown nappy fluff
Candy floss
Exploring the lightness

A new look and freedom.
Cold sharp slick razor
Glides smoothly across
The Atlas of my head
Sheering away the wheats
To reveal dry ground.

A new look and freedom.
What an exploration,
The Liberation.
Of not being caged
Into an appearance
But a living soul,
A fresh wind beautifully packaged within.


Shaun Gordon aka Donusho
07/08/2010 ©

Your Words Are

Your words don't matter
any more to me

Your words will fade
into the abyss
and rots there,
where it belongs.

I am not angry,
rather calm and collective
your audacity wants me
to react like someone
who has epilepsy.

Your vocabulary and sound
can not be mixed
like oil and water.
so,
drip off my Goretex jacket
Bribe and Confusion.

My ear waxs detects your manipulation
interrogation
condemnation
judgemental spat
mood swing song's
and above all
Hypocrisies.

I have no burden strapped
because it was packed
and sent away to Disney land
as though it never existed.

Your music has vanished
because i broke the vinyl's,
Sounds of a broken record
reminded me of a spoilt child.


The last straw, a crumpled, half torn photo of you.
Memory lane can remain a stain,
washed out with bleach,
forgotten.
so dont you ever come near me
and preach!

Damn blood sucking leech!



Shaun Gordon aka Donusho 5/9/2010 ©

Abel

Abel

No idea, no imagination
of the pain it caused you.

My unwares were like a Moth
flying towards the Black candle's flames,
stupity and embarassment
embraces my train of thoughts.

Those envious eyes
and fake smiles,
the way you
distance your presence,
your conversations
laughter
and talented mind.

To think that you thought i was a apart of that
makes me feel like my heart never existed,
as though i were a living corpse

feeding on your very existence.

Unworthily but surely,
please know that i am aware
with a new lease of life like a butterfly
breaking free from her cocoon for the first time.
Look at the colour of my wings through my eyes
and know that i speak the truth to you:
Silver, yellow, purple, lilac and white.

I am pointing my torch on your brain
receive my light and allow the dark gossip to diminish:
He
She
say
said

whatever and hug me brother
you are like my soul's shadow
and i won't give up without a fight
for our friendship.

i know now,

I didnt realised that they cut you out

I know now,
because they cut me off

Why dont we unite,

and tell them to fuck off!?



Shaun Gordon aka Donusho

3/8/2010 ©