Numberless, Match, Deaths ~ Uwais Coetzee

Numberless 

Thoughts are tangible, malleable,
folding a place for your mind to live
within the confides of the home inside.
Moulding together your minds ideas
to mean something that no other mind could decode.
You are your minds worst nightmare,
a thing to control and manipulate an individual of thoughts,
an independent ideology creator who knows no bounds other than your head,
every nook, cranny, every crease.
Your mind weaves itself together
with numberless thoughts that populate the place you call your own.
You're your own minds worst enemy.
Uncontrollably controlling the mind that controls you.
You there, you are your own minds nightmare.

Match

One at a time.
Burn the things that begin to make you feel
like you aren't a cup overflowing and not half empty or half full.
One at a time you burn away those who make you feel like
your joy needs to be flown at half-mast for their benefit.
We burn them, one match at a time
from the box we keep to save ourselves.
One at a time we're going to ignite the shine,
let yourself light up, like the stars even behind the clouds
that we think cover them.
It's all about perspective.
They think we aren't burning, 
they can think that we aren't going to shine
as if we weren't meant to,
the smokescreen of the joy we perpetuate
will be the clouds that mute our stars from their eyes.
We shine, we burn, we live and love,
one match at a time, we'll be.

Deaths

How many of us are whole? Us who claim joy and prosperity.
Us, the ones who fight and love in the light.
We, the ones who hate and cry in the dark.
We hole ourselves away, claiming to be whole yet becoming less and less.
Losing bits of the miniature souls we have left,
we smile, we move, we love, we hug and kiss, we embrace.
Us who claim to have died a thousand deaths
to become the person who stands before the rest, as a
whole person, without need of the validation’s others seek.
We smile, we love, we move, us who claim to be whole.
Die. One more time and rise like the Phoenix
through the ashes they continue to pile on your chest, rise.
Dive, like the rocks they chip off the cliffs of your integrity, dive.
Climb, through the cuts they etch on your liquid heart, climb.
Be whole, without the need to die more than we have already.
Live and be whole like the moon that shines dull but entirely true.
Pierce through the nights like the wolves who cry wolf.
Soar through the sky like the crow who cries murder.
Be, through the times of pain, the times of trying and finding peace.
Be. Free


© Uwais Coetzee


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Matric 2018
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Rockery, Zodiac, Intimacies ~ Uwais Coetzee

Rockery 

Beside the garden,
in the yard of where my peace is built.
The rockery of pieces that build up who I was.
Pieces of me, pieces of pain,
hurt, love, hate and my soulful breakings
that all build up a place from which I gain life.
Our purpose is to be at peace
and peace is attained by loving who we once were.

Zodiac

To aspire, to shine,
 to be a light in an existence shadowed
by the ones who aren't.
 Looking down at the ocean,
the blankets of waves we're ever so drawn to.
 Looking up to the skies of zodiac
and lights of the space we know nothing about.
Galaxies we've never seen, places we've never been
but the celestial draws us up to a place we dream of being.
People find any reason,
any micro-excuse not to be where they belong.
We find words to back up our spineless fear of living life.
Life lives whether we do or not so we may as well.
Shine. Live. Look down and look up but never wish to be anywhere else but here.
Never fear.

Intimacies

People strive for feelings.
Touching a face you love,
grasping a hand you tenderly need
more than you gasp for the air we breathe.
We want physicality more than the love beyond it
because it validates our need for intimacy.
Our need to know that we have love.
Our need to know another warm bodied person
that knows the pain you know,
another person who knows the cuts that cut you too, loves.
A person that could have not loved you, does.
We value physicality more than intellectuality and spirituality
because we can't feel those.
We know them.
We value things we can feel more
than anything we could ever know
but they are intertwined and you never knew it.
You can't know spiritual understanding unless it's love.
You can't know intellectual love until you know love.
You cant love anything you could find.
Nothing comes close to the intimacies of the mind.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matric 2018
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Seed, Cunning, Narrow ~ Uwais Coetzee

Seed

People move, walk, wander through life,
like a leaf floating down a river
or like a boat on the wind.
Planting a seed in every boat and leaf
we bump along into, 
hoping they grow to be who we wanted to love,
trying to mould the branches,
guide the stems,
lead the progress.
We grow by growing others into who we want to be.
We love by loving others and setting them free.

Cunning

Behind the woods in a forest, 
A long, long time ago,
Lived a fox of sly maneuver and
A mind of multitudes more.
Stealing not but riches and gold
Stealing less of material goods
For which people so hard had fought.
Instead he stole love and hope
And every lingering happy thought.
One day in the forest of spoken,
A passer-by by did meet said fox,
A passer-by of beauty and folly
And had beautiful auburn locks.
She said "Fox, don't run, don't worry.
I never intend to harm, I'll stay far but
I ask just a simple question,
What makes you who you are?
Why are you so cunning?
Why are you so sly?
What do you get out of stealing our joy?
All I ask is why?"
The Fox replied, while a smile,
Before running away all free,
"it isn't that I'm so cunning, I'm just
As cunning as cunning lets me be."

Narrow

I could follow you, endlessly, along this path you're leading me down.
A path of roses, of crossroads and feelings,
of love and bliss.
A narrow path filled with the joy you bring.
But the narrow path has edges,
the narrow path has thorns on the roses and depression in the feelings,
heartbreak in the love and ignorance in the bliss
but I could follow.
But following a narrow path
behind someone so bright does nothing but cloud who you are.
Your narrow path was never an option
 I wanted to take but I could have followed you forever.
A narrow path of inevitable hurt but it had you.


© Uwais Coetzee


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Matric 2018
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Beckon, Salt, Parables ~ Uwais Coetzee

Beckon

She's like the sun.
A smile that knows that it shines
through the clouds on your dull days.
She has an influence that would make you follow her
into the labyrinth the moment she would beckon,
the moment she would light up your light
would be the same.
But just like the sun she disappears
only to appear after due.
She's the sun, you're the clouds
she shines through to create the silver lining where there is none.
She's the sun that beams rays to dry the ground she walks upon.
She's the sun whose light becomes a beacon to which we fly.
No matter which way it runs,
no matter where it shines,
you follow the sun.

Salt

Smiles faded.
Smiles were worn away from the home
in the mind of the person you had once been.
To rub salt in the wounds of a cut so gory
it told stories without being understood.
You broke yourself with a mindset that
 was not who you were.
Being toxic applies as much to yourself
as it always did to anyone else.
You're human too and it's
because you're human that you
have the unflappable nature to build yourself up again.
Like the sand on the shores,
the snow in the mountains,
the leaves in the pile,
the hope in your eye, there will be more.
You will be whole.

Parables

The wind blew and the sky was blue
and the leaves were green, and we lived.
Listening to words of those unseen and unknown.
Parables spoken to the ears
of those that became in themselves the ones who spoke.
Words, like ideologies, like culture,
like love, like money,
is passed on.
Stories are the medium that passes on life.


© Uwais Coetzee


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Matric 2018
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Conversation, Harbour, Stations ~ Uwais Coetzee

Conversation

You call it conversation; I call it therapy.
The way words melt pain from us.
Like a magician pulling swords from the box,
 the leaves falling into piles
 through the wind on autumn days.
You call it conversation; I call it therapy.
 the words lift depression
like raising the weight off the shoulders of souls.
Like the water crashing down
to sustain the lives, we never see lived.
You call it conversation; I call it therapy.
Speaking under a sky that knows us all,
conversing under the clouds that cover us all.
You called it conversation, but it was always therapeutic.
Like love.

Harbour

Like a sponge draws water he drew her darkness inwards.
Trying to harbour her pain, try to contain her hurt,
attempting to understand
how painful being alone in the dark is.
To love is to accept the darkness
of another and care for it like your own.

Stations

We search for happiness everywhere
except where it's supposed to be found.
 We search window panes,
 city streets, golden fields, tops of trees.
 The stars that add the shine to our eyes,
the fluttering flaps of birds in the skies.
Over gates and beyond walls
through the wind that silently calls.
Stations, bus stops and in our home,
at night when you're all alone.
You'll find fake love you'll believe to be true,
but love isn't love until it starts within you.


©Uwais Coetzee

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Matric 2018
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Lie, Strike, Unluckily ~ Uwais Coetzee

Lie

Lie with me. 
Lie under the stars that preceded our lives here.
Lie under the constellations that know who we were meant to become.
Lie upon a rock flying through space but we feel at home upon it.
Lie with me beyond worry,
beyond stress and love
and hate and fear
and courage and pain
and joy and you and I.
I'm not asking for much.
Just your existence under stars
that are mightily oblivious to our existence
but know us just as well.
Between minds that share thoughts
and bodies that share feelings,
 inside hearts that beat and veins of blood that flows.
Exist beside me with our similarities and differences all at the same time.
 I ask only that we could exist under the stars.
Lie with me.

Strike

We became more.
More than who we used to be.
Almost like an awakening, 
a sudden strike of consciousness
into an already conscious brain. 
Like the waves on the sand,
we flowed into our own as if we were never really ourselves.
 To find what we love to do is to find love for yourself.
To pursue what we were meant to be
is to do nothing more than act out destiny.
Our blocks fell upon each other like the bricks on a house
that found itself laying a foundation after the fact.
Relearning who we were always meant to be,
is finding love for who we are.
Self-love.

Unluckily 

You met each other,
in a hope of becoming part of a whole person
with the broken pieces you placed together hoping they'd stick.
But smooth and jagged edges never fit
and you found that out
the way that's way harder than you'd have preferred.
But unluckily or luckily for you,
the breaking apart from one another
made you find the pieces
that fit together for who you were.
To piece back together you needed to break apart.



©Uwais Coetzee

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Matric 2018
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Sticks, Sullen, Ballad ~ Uwais Coetzee

Sticks

You know the bond when your insides
feel it in their insides and you smile
without knowing how not to.
Like the leaves on the sticks,
the branches on the trees,
the crunch of the grass,
the yous and the mes,
nature calls.
On a phone that never needed to ring
for you to know its here.
Like a message that you
never needed to receive to know you had it bad.
With fate pulling the strings and the clouds are all that sings,
the sky is on our side and we our love can find, nature calls,
and who are we to deny it?

Sullen

Sullen skies hung over us tonight
While we tried to spill our thoughts
into small enough containers to be understood.
Bubbling over to each other,
 trying to find the scars,
trace the marks of the days we laughed
and cried and failed but tried.
Balcony soliloquies that would pass as prose
between actors in a play amongst storytellers.
Experiences in search of an outlet
between people in search of a closure amongst themselves.
Balconies under sullen skies.

Ballad

Unrequited was the word that most would use.
You just used love.
Love is blind to the obvious as obvious as it is.
So even though we find ways to avoid the sun at every turn,
it still can’t help shining down. You are the sun.
No poem, no word, no ballad, no phrase could ever phase she who blocks the sun,
but your rays bleed down to warm the muse who found a muse in another.
Notes that can't help being played onto deaf ears.
Embraces on numb bodies. Love on loveless hearts.
Unrequited is what most use. We just say love.


© Uwais Coetzee


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Matric 2018
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Refusal, Craft, Prayer ~ Uwais Coetzee

Refusal

Refusal to see
Your beauty is like the stars
Being blind to their shine.

Craft

The world is quiet, holing itself away,
Writing, reading, playing, singing,
becoming a butterfly while in this involuntary cocoon.
We sit behind doors and sit behind gates,
Mastering a craft and honing ourselves,
awaiting the opportunity to shine.
So, when we find our way out of the cage,
through the bars, around the walls we find ourselves in,
the world would have rested its weary, travel worn legs,
ready to fly, ready to shine,
brimming with confidence like the world
was always meant to be mine.

Prayer

The sun left a letter in the sky
for the moon to find,
a letter of love, hope.
With desire that soon they
may share the same sky again in the day
when the moon felt out of place.
Dim, dry and away from the light
those sunlit moon days were all the sun could cherish
in the monotonous chain of existence.
The sun hoped and prayed for the moon
to spend those fleeting moments in view,
shining with the darkness that always lit the night sky.
Hoping, saying a prayer, the sun set for the night, 
wishing to see moon at tomorrow's first light.
I'm sun, you're moon. I hope to see you soon.



© Uwais Coetzee


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Matric 2018
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Fern, paper, Others ~ Uwais Coetzee

Fern

We stay. Away from others
But inside with ourselves like
A tortoise inside its shell with no
Place else to go but home.
Being forced to be by yourself
We’ll slowly learn to be
Content with who we are.
Like the wind through the leaves
And droplets of the fern
And the snow melting off the mountain
And the cracks on the earth
We become who we were always
Meant to be.

Paper

We write.
Through the days and the nights,
The weeks and the months, we write.
Through the highs and the lows,
The ebbs and the flows
We write.
Like water flowing through the grooves
And wind blowing above our heads
Through the blues and through the reds
In our rooms and on our beds
We write.
We’re meant to write like
We’re meant to feel.
We write like how paper planes glide.
We write like how birds fly
And babies cry,
People express and
People repress.
We write like life.
Inevitably beautiful and painful.
We write.

Others 

People look around for things
That they find beautiful.
Faces, flowers, skies, smiles.
People, backgrounds, suns, lives.
We find things around us that
We deem beautiful because it's
Often easier to look out that it
Is to look for beauty within.
We look at others and find
The beauty they propagate is often
Akin to the beauty we ourselves own.
It's like a mirror and not one way glass
in the sense that when we look at the beauty
in others they look at the beauty in us.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matric 2018
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Entrances, You, Vision ~ Uwais Coetzee

Entrances

With the billions of people
That just happen to live
in this make real world we see, we
often forget that it isn’t always
about who we meet but also
how we meet these that we do.
Whether it’s me or you or us or they,
It’s the smiles, the waves, the hellos, the goodbyes
The hugs, the pats, the entrances, the exits.
The way we see the world is often more
About whether the sky is blue or not but
Never the depth of the sea hidden therein.
We always think about the fact that people
Come and go but how they do always stays.
The entrances we make and the exits we take
Are always the briefest of moments;
But the briefest of moments always seem to linger.

You

It’s always going to be you.
I don’t know you and
I don’t know who you are.
It’ll be you by the sun
And you by the moon
And you’ll be the soil
That’ll make the flowers bloom.
You will be the bow
And also, the rain
And you’ll be the blanket
To comfort my pain.
You’ll be the day to my night
And the night to my day
And nothing will ever come this way.
But I don’t know who you are
And I don’t know what we’ll be
But nothing else will matter, you see?
I don’t know you
And I don’t know if you’re real
But you are the only thing
That makes me feel.

Vision

A vision came to me in a dream
To show me the life I’d want.
A life of no worries and
A life with no stress.
A life where I’d be
Content with less.
A life filled with internal peace
And a world that could match,
A life in which the singles
We have could be the whole batch.
In waking I realize it’s not what we want.
A life of no stress and a life with no care
Is exactly what it appears to be, a vision
In a dream. The light is a reward
After the dark but the dark is inevitable after light.
So, sit with your mind through the
Dark and the light.
Console your dreams through
Day and night.
Bathe in the light
And sit in the rain
Because lie can’t be life
Without the pain.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matric 2018
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Changes, Goodbyes, Thank You ~ Uwais Coetzee

Changes

He said he’d always choose her
But now he wasn’t so sure.
He’d seen so many faces,
He’d seen so much more.
He’d found his ways to pass the time
And how to forget about his pain.
But his usual old tendencies had
Seemed to stay the same.
He had his words,
Lived in the dark,
Blocked out the world
But left his mark.
He’d changed so much
And yet stayed the same
and was always but always
sticking to his game.
He missed the way they spoke
But not enough to speak
And he’d found his level of nonchalant
He’d set out to seek.
He was out to live his life
And face his problems in a line
But these days people
Could face two at a time.

Goodbyes

The tears running down our faces
Our unwavering and incurable shivers.
Our tortured goodbyes
Embraced us more than
We could ever embrace
Each other.
Quivering bottom lips
And tears stained faces
Forced us to wander away
From our places.
Out of our zones
And into each other’s comfort
Finding companionship in
Each other’s solidarity,
With mutual pain
Being
The suffering that bound us together.
Tears still rolling and cheeks
Still wet, we were still warm
In the embrace of the fate
Waiting for the cold. The coldest part,
Things are always coldest as soon as they
Separate.

Thank you

Thank you for teaching me, whether it
Had to be via the hard route or not, your
Not loving me taught me how to love.
The depth of your eyes showed me that
There are things more beautiful than
Beauty itself. Your imperfections showed
Me just how ugly perfection is. Your
Existence became synonymous with love
For me ever since we started speaking.
You showed me the love that I never saw
Before. You taught me that love could
Never have been one dimensional, that even
Pain from love is love in itself.
Thank you for not loving me.
It was your eyes and not the sea nor the
Sky that taught me why I loved the blue
And even though I’ll love you more than you’ll
Ever see, thank you for never loving me.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018

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Destiny, Distance, Dreams ~ Uwais Coetzee

Destiny

Some things in this world
Were just meant to be.
Like the story in a book,
I believe in destiny.
Like the sky was meant to be blue
And the birds meant to fly
And wolves meant to howl
And people meant to cry.
Rain was meant to fall and
Souls were meant to combine
And destiny is always in
A straight line.
If wars were meant to happen
And people were meant to fight
And people who were dying
Were meant to see the light.
If suicide is normal
And time can never change
Is life in enjoyment normal
And suffering is strange?
If reading was always possible
And people were meant to write,
Then the sun would always go down
And it’d be dark at night?
If roses were always red,
And violets always blue
Would living always be this way?
And I’d be forced to love you?

Distance

Physical distance was never
A problem for a yearning love.
When space separate, the soul
Connects. You may never have been
Around but I learned to draw
Your eyes with my mind
And colour them in with my soul.
Physical distance never left me
Empty because imagination made your
Voice and warmth is creatable.
The mind is beautiful
And the mind is wise,
It can be false warmth
And false eyes
And can continue one’s love
To the point of a burn
But the limit of the mind,
It can’t make people love in return.

Dreams

He awoke in his bed
With tears on his face.
He awoke but he felt
Oddly out of place.
Awoke and felt the
World that he knew was fake.
He awoke but really
Didn’t feel awake.
In a state of minor consciousness
He dreamed a dream,
He dreamed of a scene
too good to be seen,
too perfect it was obscene
so, it was deemed fake
or so it would seem, so
it remained a dream.
He saw it nonetheless
Even though it was in his mind
And he realized that life
Could never be kind.
The dream was over
But the pain would remain
She was the only thing
He’d never obtain.
If he worked hard enough
He could have all the money,
If he moved somewhere nice
He could live where it was sunny.
If he waited, he might
Even find a new love
But any chick sadly doesn’t
compare to the white dove.
He couldn’t have her
Because it was out of his control
And this thought left him feeling
Less than whole.
He awoke that morning learning one
Thing from that dream.
That life can never
Be as it seems.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018

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Connection, Cages, Band-Aids ~ Uwais Coetzee

Connection

If people left their footprints on every
Place their presence had been, your
Outline would walk wonders on
The traces of my skin. Not necessarily
Physically but touches of the mind as if
Touching your body meant less than the
Soles of our feet meant to clouds, less than
Sharks meant parrots or any other polar
Opposite that were never meant to meet, my
touch meant nothing to you because who needs
to feel hands when your souls connect?

Cages

People cage themselves, as if being
Trapped in a box is all we’ve
Ever meant to be. We live holed
Away as if reality was never tangible, as
If imagination and dreams were intangible
To make into reality. Trapped in boxes
Of black and white without ever
Realizing that the colour we seek can
Be found by widening reality to
Incorporate the imagination we’ve always
Excluded therefrom. We were always
On the edge of being innovative, creative,
Separated by our own societal boundaries
That keep us from dreams and hope.
We keep our worlds inn greys and shades
Thereof and staying inside of what we’ve seen
Not knowing that the sky is blue, the grass is green,
The sun is bright, and dreams and hope were always
Meant to have been ours. The sky
Has always been blue but our ability
To perceive it is what needed to be found too.

Band-Aids

When in pain people take the smallest
Things to turn into victories because that’s what
Needs to be done. Little stitches of a remedy
That turn into an entire band aid that
Replaces your presence until love comes again.
People say that something is still
Important if you still cry about it,
I think it’s time my eyes start to dry.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018
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Energy, Footprints & Habits ~ Uwais Coetzee

Energy

Under a sky of a million stars, I saw
Instead the hope of there being hope.
I sit in a new life with new people
But a strange familiarity as if living
Is what destiny was all about.
Instead of where I am, instead of
What I do, instead of being depressed
And dwelling on you, I find myself
Too busy in expression to express.
Too busy crying with laughter to cry
In torture. My tears instead are
filled with the hope of a hope and
the waves of a light that shine brighter
than the stars I sat under tonight.
They say that energy can never be created
Nor can it be destroyed and only
Transferred. Well now the energy seems
To be mine. It’s our turn to shine.

Footprints

I follow your footprints every time you
Seem to cross this lonely mind of
Mine. I track you as if being a
Tracker was all I was ever meant
To be. Or not to be, because the
Question was never ‘who’ or ‘why’. You
See, those have always been two certain
Answers that go something like ‘you’
and ‘who else?’. The question was
always ‘when’, because it was me who
helped you from the trenches of a
broken heart but as soon as you
stopped using me as a step ladder
for your own gain I fell into those
same trenches of the same pain.
You see, the narrative has never
Been about you and I, it was always
You then I came tailing you waiting
To be in your tale for once. They
Say that Humpty Dumpty broke when he
Fell, but nowhere did it say he was an egg.
Humans can break irreparably too. Maybe
My fall just happened to be you.

Habits

I’ve heard to form a habit
It takes 21 days.
Did I think of you for 21 days
For you to be so thoroughly stuck in my ways?
You became a habit that
Wouldn’t leave no matter how many others
I picked up along the way.
So invested into me that any
Example of love I could find,
You’d be the only thing that
Would crash into my mind.
Habits stay habits because they are
Always around. Frame for frame, game
For difficult game, stride for increasing
Stride and lunge that leads to plunge.
In forgetting a habit, forgetting the habit
Becomes the habit you try to ultimately forget.
Forgetting a habit is like travelling to
A non-existent destination just like me forgetting you
Is like trying to procrastinate procrastination.
We’ll never get there.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018
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Insanity ~ Uwais Coetzee

Light became the darkness
And blue looked like red
And the lace where he slept
Became a cage and not a bed.
He was going insane as
Black became white,
As joy became fake,
As flee became fight.
As anger became common
And tears became a friend.
As life became a blur,
As reality began to bend,
As words became forced
And silence was his way.
As his demons became his companions
And night became his day.
As he stayed inside and tried to hide
And he watched life from window pane
He slipped in and out reality.
He was slowly going insane.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018

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Is it a Sin? ~ Uwais Coetzee

Is it a sin when someone
Leaves a place?
Not only leaves but
Leaves no trace.
Is it a sin to want what
Left you behind without waiting to turn?
Is it a sin to want to punish
Yourself and free them but take their burn?
Is it a sin to be all that you are
And possess so troubled a past?
Is it fair that what started so
Quick would burst in flames so fast?
I know that nothing lasts forever
And nothing that we have stays
But even though we separate we
Didn’t have to go separate ways.
Is it a sin to want
Things so desperately much
That you become conflicted
With pain as such?
Is it a sin to be wanted?
Is it a sin to feel lust?
Is it a sin to feel broken
By the breaking of trust?
Is it a sin to feel jealous because
You’re all I want to be?
Is it a sin to have you want me
Just for me?


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018

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Haiku & Other Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

Haiku

She just might have been
The embodiment of all
I needed to know.

Home

They say that love
Is where the heart is.
But who ever said that home
Needs to be a place?

Comparison

If only she knew,
He compared the
Brightest stars to
Her dullest moments
And she won by far.



© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018

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Life ~ Uwais Coetzee

I like the idea of us separating
And walking our separate ways
To someday meet again
Face to face.
Because nothing really ends
Not even life. It just continues
In the lives of those that it
Touched, in those that it felt,
In those that it held on the
Nights that holding ourselves together
Became our only objective.
Life is the life and life is
The light. Life is the darkest
Moments of the night. Life will
Always come even try as you might
To avoid the pain that you try to
Fight because even when the
Stars don’t shine, even when
You were never mine, even when
Wrong was close to right, the light
Always shines at the end of the night.


© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018
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Intangible ~ Uwais Coetzee

He lives in the age of evil minds
And pretty faces.
Broken worlds but
Perfect places.
Deadly people with
Beautiful souls
And large hearts
That are filled with holes.
He lives in a world of
Blue eyes and blue lives
Of beautiful people with beautiful
Hearts that are hurt as soon as he
Meets them. Of people that might be
His were the circumstances different.
He came into peoples lives at just the right
Time, the time in which he could fall in
The love so hard that the lover didn’t know
He did. A love that was so deep he never
Stopped falling. With his feet having caved
And her feet solidly planted she was the
Root of his living abyss. The only solid thing
In his life was the only thing intangible to him.



© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018
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Irrational ~ Uwais Coetzee

He was illogical, irrational
And no one knew why because
Not many people understand a troubled soul,
Not many people have ever felt cold,
Not externally but when the fire
Of your life burns out inside,
When the cold breath of a love
Has turned your tide
And love cannot change
When the circumstances do
Because if it did it
Was never love at all.
Because love is irrational
And doesn’t make sense
And in its presence, nothing ever does.
Because ‘E’ does not equal MC
Squares do not have equal side
By side is not next to
Be or not to because
Logic does not equal
Love.



© Uwais Coetzee

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Matriculant 2018
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