Words knock at the precipice of lips
like scratched CDs stuck in players
looping in frequencies
of infrequency
–some things are harder to say
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Ian Dooley
Tag: Poetry
Yellow
Flashes of yellow
and streaks of
orange scatter
across a sky
that stays
still at
five to
six am
letting
light infuse
its darkness
with perceptions
of new beginnings as
if endings ever existed
in the first place
( calling it sunrise )
Voices
Voices continue to scream in silent rooms
As sanity is swept by brooms
reeking of remembrance
at ten to three am
( eyelids shut )
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Ahmed Ashhaadh
Nightfall
Nightfall has a funny way
of bringing the things
we try to put away
to light
© Hudson Biko
Photograph: Maxime Caron
You
You let yourself in.
You
walked through doors
and floors
covered by a myriad of flaws
we never bothered to look at
,
You
placed your self
on internal shelves
I never wanted
to reach
,
You
barricaded your self
on levels which
were never warranted
,
You
collected dust
in bursts
dispersed
across the worst
outbursts
never previously rehearsed
,
You
went through phases
we called faces
in vases
always held
until they fell apart
;
But
you
Were never let in.
You
Never bothered to look at.
You
Never wanted to reach,
You
Were never warranted,
You
Never previously rehearsed,
You
Were always held.
Until
You fell apart.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph: SHTTEFAN
hudson biko 