Love Poetry For Couple

Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. �Genesis 1:28 Her flaming hair in God's whole power, even as heat swells the atmosphere damp; he hums a jingle and continues to spin pedicel to fibre, four-leaf clovers, daisies, grinning. 'Six days,' he says aloud� this has took long enough already. They�re in a motel room with centrefolds on the walls (from filthy magazines), and behind her Adam waiting with the stump of himself in his hands like someone holding a tree-trunk with veins, the brine of Eve in him, even as she tosses her hair to turn him into a creature whose need is to mate with her now. In her head a new light shines on the flowing strands of her reddish tresses which are translucent like queues of fireflies bugs in a world she shares with a fruit, this man, a serpent, and no obdurate people to curse her when the pleasure begins to deform her glad face.

After you left In the space That empty rooms Unveil, I felt nuts. You had gone Early to work And I felt nuts, Between smokes Or after meals (I ate from tins), I spent that whole Day feeling nuts. Till you arrived And I went to open The door with My other hand.

Souls are squeezed from moss-free rock, and men from souls. You (to whom I wish a turquoise sky That beguiles some who die Onto a cloud to lay their head) Are not made of chalk. So what if the boy takes this room The way he does, wearing your poise Like a model on a dais? We will have lived fast and strong You & I, from our past so long, Into this grave goodbye. Pindrop Press , 2012

They�ve covered miles of terrain between Selma and Montgomery, walking in an exodus from fire that burns us. It is like there will be no other chance for them to walk again, bear down on the doors of town hall positioned between phallic pillars, as the heat of the sun fails to deliver what suns are meant to share, behind the back of the march, now out of Alabama and onward unto Tennessee and beyond to the Carolinas�a whole world walks with them, bundled in wishes and demands they carry on their shoulders, till at last they climb the stairs and drop their concerns at the door. For dogs and boots have no way of stopping that kind of gift, the diversity in their one face, not hoses and not even knuckles or spit can change anything. And since that door is locked, they make a gate into the next century. The rest of the story is what would finally unfold. Canopic Publishing, 2016

As evening settles its dark wing on us we lie inside another night till even that night has nothing to say to us, till the crickets are quiet outside and bats are out, piercing night with their radar. Till there is no sound other than that of hooves as the devil goes by, on an evening stroll with his family. This happens night after night in these suburbs where evil likes to walk. I live in Qoaling. It is my home. One night the devil and his family didn't clop by as usual, but smashed our door down and trotted in, pierced Motlatsi�s lung with a horn, ransacked the whole house looking for Ben, and finally left without him. In the morning the smell of sulphur still hung everywhere in the air, inside the rooms. Anybody can raise hell, where's the one who can also raise the dead? �from " Waslap ", The Onslaught Press , 2015 Motlatsi and his grandmother, our mother Tebello