Treasure Island

Sicelo Sithole

(09 April 1986 / Durban, South Africa)

Black Roses

Gestures of wounds, my dark life unfound so bound in the shadows of grey mists
Treasures of pure gentleness, sounds so well curbed deeply within the black roses
Slaving dreams in voyages of my infinite joy, and all my thoughts shattering in my close sight.
My core being in agony, seeds of my peevish wisdom and all my laid scattered visions
Breaking thoughts of my forever sadness, valleys of pain and domes of dizziness and confusions
Spreading speeds of my emptiness, and fading nights of my judgment in my own wars and fray.
These all remind me of black roses that flew and died of desire within the wise verses of profound prose.
These modify and mold this day of termination of black roots, the day of red roses and new beginnings.

Submitted: Monday, January 19, 2009
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  • Diana Van Den Berg (2/27/2009 12:02:00 PM)

    This is sooooo rich in sensitivity, complexity, self-knowledge and sheer beauty - and despite the pain and anguish, totally lacking in self-pity. One of the many things that keeps striking me about your poetry is that despite your youth, and the fact that English not your mother tongue, you don't use clichés, but express yourself with a freshness and originality which you should be proud to claim your own. Bravo yet again, Sicelo! (Report) Reply

  • Anthony Edmond John (1/19/2009 10:10:00 AM)

    Hi soul Brother
    These Lines are true and salient..I give U a 10.
    Cheers Bro, remember we have been planted upon this platform to spread the word..cheers.
    The Sage
    Anthony Edmond John
    +2348020984990 (Report) Reply

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