Written By: Oratile Ndimande
No sound idea was yielded from all those collisions
I thought I was ready and loaded
with polished and piercing details
Given the chance I’d pull and blow your mind.
Bang!
A neatly wrapped nightmare and/or dream with ribbons of metaphors
and punch lines that hit your gut just right.
I thought they would leave you oozing with 'oohs!' and 'aahs!'
I thought I'd have seduced you into the most colourful imagination.
But instead I pulled, and I pulled
And all I triggered was unimpressive blanks,
disjointed stanzas flopping on each other,
and (juvenile) innuendos that might have pissed you off a little.
And
No sound idea is yielded from all these collisions
Just blank.
I don’t know what the hell to say now
Perhaps I should embrace this blank
In fact, my anew should start even fresher
A new page, without the scratches and grooves from the pages above
A new document, without the data to be undone or redone.
Could we forget that other time,
when it didn't feel right, when you read my words from left to right?
Could we duck and cover
From when I was trying too hard to fill in the blank spaces in your ears
and my attempts at humour were aimed at your chuckle
but landed on deaf ears?
Could we not think about
When I felt I might be boring you?
When I was trying too hard?
I'll just be blank, again
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