Continuation 

I banished my heart

To the recesses of my mind

Got my soul to play tag

With my religion

And boy oh boy did I 

Get to laugh like everything 

Was in place.
You ever got to write 

“Etc” on a script?

It’s like that;

The way my own self is

Moving, being and living. 

There’s more to me – I know.

But I had to banish my heart

To the recesses of my mind. 

Just to keep a mild lid on things 

Just me.

Things quite me.

Daphney Em Molapo 

23/10/2017

00:58

Advertisements

Cluster fuck


I am a train wreck
Of industrial proportions.
I lean on nothing and everything
All at once…
My shadow is light grey
And my mind lost it’s
Register so pretty much
Every thing is a scale of empty.

I am a forest of emotions
And cluster of vines
And a blink of twinkling
Shadows.
I am aware of gravity
Yet it seems to operate
On everything but me
I am unsteady – I know this.
I am afloat – I see this.
The ground refuses to
Magnetise my feet and
Order me to stand – I feel that.

I am a cold image
Of air and light.
It could be both good
and bad…
As I see it
I am afloat
And it isn’t by choice.
It would be better if I’d
Jumped down from a plane
Knowing the ground
Would inadvertently receive me.

Daphney Em Molapo
14/08/2017
20:46

Mind’s beauty

And my thoughts will center,
Gather at the foot of the water
And become the driving force
To my reign.
My crown, black as the night,
Will shake in the wind
But remain my bijou –
My jewel among diamonds.
I will seed in the sand
A plant with a shadow
of true calm.
And the strings of my heart
Will pull with the wave force
Of waters kin to war.
And my thoughts will centre,
Gather at the foot of the water.

Daphney Em Molapo
01/09/2017
01:11

My foe’s blood

I painted in my foe’s blood 

Made for magnificent Red.
It’s messed up – I know
But in all fairness I’d announced
My intent to rise again,
It really should have been plain
To him that I’ll be chasing
Him with an axe soon enough.

I painted in my foe’s blood
It made for an interesting red.
The canvas lit up on fire
At the intensity of my rage.
My next stance I took dire
Air in my lungs and held my
Ribcage close to my back
Despite the pain of press.

I painted with my foe’s blood
It made for a device spell.
I cast it right before the veil
Fell and my true thoughts
Revealed the similarities
To sleeping beauty’s apple.
I’m the wicket witch in crown
And fully aware of the potential
To age out of fairness.
Though I do protest,
I am aware of time’s passing
And I am hopeful of a glint
Of change right before my sire
Tries to avenge his lost innocence.

Daphney Em Molapo
01/08/2017
23:56

Spiders shpiders


I am being chased by spiders

Those many legged creatures

And their whirlwind of presence

Collect insects and my fear

In bottles before the day is done.
“Dispatch, Dispatch; we have a runner”

Road running and screaming 

For her life and it makes no sense. 

I am being chased by spiders

Those grey multivisioned creatures

Swore to catch me and my phone 

– oh the selfies in danger…
I am shamelessly running 

From those miserable things

And screaming – for good measure Dammit!
Daphney Em Molapo

19/06/2017

21:51

And uncle Google provides the pictures

Lone cellist 

Tips aflame with passion 

She stood top of the  hill

Of her heart and struck chords 

Into rhythm while the world

About her dissipated and 

Dissappeared into yesterday’s 

Inspiration to remain guarded.
She’s got heart and mind afloat

Amidst a room capable of reflecting 

Her melodies to her ears like new

Forms of fuel that urge

Her forward into her soul’s 

Conseptualised nuptials with

Reality, to keep it moving.

She’s played alone

And yet you hear a crowd

With each string of cello

She plays – Soul.
Fingers paying tribute 

to more than keys played

In classic old school chaos –

It makes sense no matter

The strength or weakness

Of the melody. 

She has blended herself for

The strong to feel 

And the others to hear.

She’s the lone cellist

With more to offer than

Her featured beauty.
Daphney Em Molapo

28/05/2017

21:49

I was stolen 

I was stolen

Cat-called and followed.

I was insulted and he knew 

Just the right words to break me.

My tomorrow too uncertain to 

Consider, I was stolen. 
The reality of my surrounding 

Is dark pain, I’m in a boot 

And the car is strolling through 

Neighbourhood after neighbourhood 

And no one notices my abductors

As anything but a few guys

Going on their way…
I was stolen 

Beneath the street light 

And passersby looked away,

Trying to protect themselves they

Let them take me like fresh meat

For a slaughterhouse. 
These butchers dare said it 

Was “just business. ”

If I had just not been “this hot.”

I was stolen 

And all he could say

Was “be quiet, or die”
Daphney Em Monaco

17/05/2017 11:39

South Africa is on fire and the flames seem most interested in the women and children.  GOD HELP US.

– image from google

Predator’s prey Child 

Woman have you forgotten, 

The plausible innocence 

In a young cub?

Have you lost your mind

Teaching your child the victim

Stance while you fought 

Through their enemies? 

You’ve taught your child

To run to you and hide

And watch while you take

On the dragons for them?

Your protection has made you

Their God, imagine the betrayal 

Of your death as it eventually  occurs.

You’ve turned your child to prey

To be fed on by monsters in

Their closeted mindset

Because you became fully

Invested in providing them reasons

To remain innocent enough 

To innovatively never live.

That way they never hurt right?

What is with you woman?

Turning your little wolf 

Into a hunter’s best catch – scared. 
Daphney Em Molapo

06/05/2017   

10:06

Love Google images,  they inspire.