Love is a Bitch!

Love is a Bitch!


Cruel Love

Sneaky, uninvited

She appears when least expected

Intent on mischief, beguiling fools

With sweet charm


Quickened hearts pound

Having found

The One

To heal life’s scars

Comfort the empty Soul

With Love’s soothing balm


Oh Wicked Love!

Cruel Deceiver

A mirage to the Soul

She vanishes

Leaving only tears and broken hearts

Where once her warm presence lingered.



October 2011 – Johannesburg


Once Again

On the edge of Light

Divided I stand

 shall I fall? Shall I fight?

To the Breach! To the Breach!

The valor cry!

But none stand with me

Alone, I face my lie

Is this my path?

I rise, only to fall?

Is there not a neither?

Where just being, is the All.

Is this Life not the dream?

Where right and wrong deceive

Is not the True Life just being,

Through which we Truth, in Light, conceive?

I met a woman – a friend of a friend – one night when I was out alone.  It was one of those surreal evenings out when, fueled by relationship fatigue and alchohol, I was pretty much open to meeting someone new. And I did.  As we all do, sooner or later in our lives there will appear the other women (man).

She and I “just clicked”. We already “knew” each other, even though we had just met.  My heart was pounding. My sweaty palms moist against hers.  She even had a simian line on her left palm, just like mine.  The Universe was speaking, or so it seemed*.     That evening felt like eternity, although it ended in a blink. We parted ways and we were both in love.  *Interpreted by Jose Cuervo, apparently.

Except, we were both parting ways to return to our significant others.  I knew then, that this was a defining moment for me – not for what my racing heart was telling me to do – but for what my Soul was telling me not to.  Divided, I would remain standing, integral, whole.  Together with her, I would fall.  We both would.

The next day I chose to stand. But in my heart of hearts I know there must be another way. A way to express love, without harming others whom we love. We love for a reason. We love because love itself is boundless and seeks expression at every opportunity. It arises from the very fabric of consciousness itself.  True Love is a Fountanhead, a Wellspring. The Source of all good things. It cannot, should not, be denied. Yet so many love stories end in pain – either those who love, because they suppress and deny that love, or by the expression of their love, others are hurt. This shouldn’t be. It can’t be. There must be a middle way.

Charlotte’s Passion

Charlotte’s Passion

 Immortal Soul

Descended to Mortal Flesh

Not yet birthed

But in perfection lies

Balanced ‘tween Heaven’s Glory

And earth’s demise.

Innocence untouched, yet needs

Must choose, to Fall

And begin that journey which

Through balanced choice or

Earthly suffering

Returns to Heaven’s Gate

OR to Hell, should we err in our humanity

For we are weak vessels prone to passion’s lure

(A sin not of our own design)

Our Carnal Selves be Damned!

What fool believes in Heaven’s way

If righteousness be the only guide?

Perhaps no fool

But innocence see’s the lie

And Purity, who can deny?

This innocent’s right to choose

Her passage, whether through righteousness’ hand

Or Heaven’s Pardon

Or  to return  to Spirit, Soul unblemished

Unspoiled, yes, unborn!

A perfect One, conceived in vowed love

Nurtured and loved no less though in the Womb

Surely Angel’s delight in such a One

No less a father his cradled newborn

Or mother her swaddling babe.

No! love has not abandoned us

But abounds all the more

A beautiful death of mortal innocence

Whilst immortal Soul ascends

In Love and Truth

Her one true journey

Her Heaven’ed Fate.

April 2014: My nephew Devin and his wife Lala lose their newborn daughter Charlotte at birth.  I was gutted as if she were my own. You were so loved Charlotte, by all those around you.


Timeless we pursue Vanity

Discarding precious moments with those we love

In Vain we cry out in regret

In the end, when the light grows dim.


Timeless, we spend with abandon

Until one day, expended,

we discover our misspent endeavours leave no peace

And we enter the shadows.


Timeless, we grasp at it

But it flows through fingers like water

Until we look down on lifeless bodies

And our souls fade into darkness.


Yet Timeless we are

Our lives a blink in the face of eternity

And after the end, we are born anew

To continue our sacred journey

into the Light.



Why am I afraid

of the pain you inflict?

When you lash out with cruel words

or withdraw your love

Surely after all this time

I am inured to your violent heart

And your words pierce old wounds

Without pain

My heart is cold

At the thought of you

Only fear keeps me smiling

My eyes, no windows to my soul

My anger is deep

A poison

My love is dead

Only fear keeps me smiling

And I want you to die.

Late 2007 – the trauma of my relationship with Lize had reached a crescendo – or so it seemed.  Yet it would take another two years to let go.  The pain of being with her was only exceeded by the pain of leaving her.  She was my drug. My ecstasy.  A euphoric high that seemed to take me to the gates of heaven, before plunging me into the depths of hell.

Before you Go

Before you Go

Before you leave, and turn to go

Perhaps you will consider

That there is more to (this) love

I could deliver?

Then perhaps a different tack

Brings hope of passions new

Let me read you from these pages

A verse, a line – a tale to enthral you!

And so I can regain

Ground lost, through bickered hours

By soft light we’re caressed, while

My voice the story flowers!

So before you take your bow

Pause, and consider still the sound

of my voice, through these pages

while new love, and friendship’s found.

17April2007 – My relationship with Lize was beginning to unravel.  I did not know it then, but this was the first step in a long, painful process of disentanglement.  She loved me to read to her, and I had found an old edition (1952) of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.  I wrote this poem and hid it between the dusty text and colourful prints. Somehow this copy stayed with me.  In hindsight I should have left then – the tumultuous nature of our relationship, the passionate extremes, could not have been good for either of us.  Yet we clung to each other, afraid of the darkness.



Dalk is jy die een

Dalk is jy nie

Maar hoe sal ek weet

as ons nie tyd saam spandeer nie?

Miskien is dit “die liefde”

Of net iets wat soos die liefde lyk

Maar hoe sal ons weet as ons nie wag nie?

Gee dit tyd

Ek dink dikwels aan jou

jou oe, jou glimlag

Eintlik droom ek, en luister na die stilte

van jou asem as jy langs my slaap

En ek wag.

February 2006 – I had recently met Lize, and was falling in love. She challenged me to write her a poem in Afrikaans. The beginning of my most harmful relationship yet, but one that led me to reconcile me with myself.