help me

this is seriously not a poem… all i wanna no is how do i read the comments on my poems,… i have a few but its not in english and i would really like to no how i can read it

Art is love and love is autonomy

16 OCT 2009
ART IS LOVE AND LOVE IS AUTONOMY

Art is love and love is autonomy
Without a dependency on a school of thought
You wouldn’t understand
The sum of all this art you possess,
Its part, its compositions, elements,
The genesis, the climax till the peak of its revelation
This path we walk is anonymous
In this existence and after perpetually
Still you wouldn’t understand
The word strange like the wind spirit
Blowing past commanding all direction
The more love and attention you spend
The more pledge of oneself sent
Blood, tears and sweat blowing this horn
Into its lungs and raise it to its feet
Your food is for those who wish to feed
Upon a poet’s creed
Bridging the gap between
Those blacks and kaffirs who dread to read
You wouldn’t understand
It’s not for you to understand,
When human understanding falls short to understand human nature
Like a brother lacking accountability somehow becomes a liability
A broken correlation reflects mental transformation
Our lives are dependent, devised systematically
Pure for what his rib and he are
Light bulb and socket
Fate manifest them fit
You wouldn’t understand why you underachieve
And those closest would undermine time
The definition of what shall transcend
Like seasons, Ecclesiastes 3 there is a time for everything
They wouldn’t understand
The transition of a weapon being a tool
Your fortitude refined, polished, like
Butterflies and worms contradict each other’s reflections
Yet there is a line between the two,
There is a gap where you die and those living walking the path
While you stand, waiting for life to pay what’s due to you
Still they wouldn’t understand
The grade of your failure and the sum of its nature
Upon which foundation this self expression stands
Reflecting no other
Your art is love, and love is autonomy
Without a dependency on a school of thought
Let those who try to define
Decline to categorize what soul bliss is under these blue skies
Still they wouldn’t understand
The abstractness of your depth and style
Fitting into this graded society
Being one of those analysed, classified, boxed, shelf packed
As being too uncommon, like
A black coconut,
One eyed identified  
And the other eye blind amplified
Like white people’s 1st time
Clinging bum to bum
Illustrating the love of doves
And the sum of it lust
The attraction of the moth to this light
Somehow dies for some
Just a leg, a phase in this venture we call life
This fuel in life is God given
Nature driven, fortified and set
And you wouldn’t understand
The sum of all this art you posses
And you being a child of life’s circumstances
And not of mainstreams that conceive common change
The podiums are full of freedom
Kingdoms only a poet knows
In between his own of desire and strive
Yet the spoken word is a Sheppard
Only a poet sows
And feeling is what he reaps
Art is love and love is autonomy
You wouldn’t understand
Yes you wouldn’t understand
When love is on the house, complimentary
Simplified, applied given like an untimely gift
The symbol of what we are
Is truth filtered, opinions of “maybe if I became” sieved
Common factors, denominators, terminated
When love becomes the perpetrator
The darkness we know
Becomes the light we never knew
You wouldn’t understand
Yes you wouldn’t understand

a darling to be kissed, kicked and not to be missed

the only time when woman listen, is when money talks.
fortunately i was charmed by her walks,
she moves as if the world is lacking even the small rocks.
but to me she listened to my stupid jokes…

she's neat from head to toe.!
those who know her says, she's a taxi to soweto.,
she'll take you there…
the last driver was roberto.,
but ofcourse we share…

ask to be there at 5 o'clock all of a sudden
saw the fitness of the creature,praise to cosman
she gave me a riddle told me to solve it, if i can
and she gave me a ride as she does to each and every other fan
aint nothing good,like bottom and bossom of a woman!!! whose african!!
that time i thought i was a deceased.
damn girl!!!
"YOU ARE A DARLING TO BE KISSED"

repitition makes it more good.
wake up the next morning to see miss holywood
but no suprises the wonders of the hood
i looked at the situation,and it obviuosly changed my mood
the taxi has another driver.!!!
shit!! girl,
"YOU ARE A DARLING TO BE KICKED"

WHEN you not in the taxi you can see the registration numbers clearly, and it says
"RIDE NICE… BUT YOU'LL NEVER RIDE TWICE…"
thats the game don't be lame or pissed..
girl' YOU A DARLING NOT TO BE MISSED"

the name of the taxi should be……

" A DARLING TO BE KISSED , KICKED AND NOT TO BE MISSED…"

Silly Thing

Silly little thing -
Too Pink.
small, then big
like a 12-year old
standing on tippie-toes
at attention every morning
responding to some
fleshy bugler
as if to say,
"Here I am! I count!
I will not be ignored!"

Silly little thing
Like that embarrassing relative
nobody knows at parties.

How can I attach meaning,
my self
to such a silly little thing?

I'm sure Jesus never wrestled
never struggled so
with His… ego.
Or Paul.
Maybe Peter – he had a wife
(or was that James?)

Silly little thing.

Needy!
Like a lonely maltese
inherited from your late
grandmother.
Whining for attention.

Silly little thing.
And my heart is so easily persuaded.
Like the little boy watching his brother
throw a tantrum
and get what he wants.

Silly little thing.

It is her physical body

She lies down,
Oh no!
She is naked!
She is not your magazine cover girl,
but she loves her state of the art design.

Her breats remind her that,
One day she will provide for her children
Her womb reminds her that,
She will conceive a living soul
Her butt reminds her of the uniquely shaped body she has.

All these parts that are usually hidden are to serve her
They have been inspired by God's imagination
They have been given meaning,
that only she can comprehend
She is smitten by her looks.

Guess what,
She is not trying to sell her body
She is not trying to be conceited.
She is just a woman that has possessions,
She rules,
She is loving it
It's her possession
It's her physical body

Naturally Lesbian

Let me be
Everything I am, my
Soul, mind and
Body that defines what I feel
Inside me and
Accept me as I am,
Naturally LESBIAN

Loath my life, but I know you
Envy the guts,
Spirit, courage and
Braveness I have
In me, so do yourself a favour
Accept me as I am,
Naturally LESBIAN

For Women With Dreams

Here's to women
With dreams
And schemes.
With visions and
Values,
Beyond all that
Seems reality.
Within their reach,
They teach
Us to break the mould
Of old
Conventions and
Set-in ways.
Who says
They cannot do it all?
And well.
Better,
In every respect.
If left unchecked.
Given rein
To gain
All they will,
And more.
They know the score.
Contempt
From males
Who feel
The threat.
They think  her place
Is in the bed.
Yet, when all
Is said
And done,
There too
She can have her fun.
Its begun.
Trite.
Perhaps.
But without
Respite.
It's her right
To be
Free.
To see
As far as her vision goes.
Ah yes,
Here's to women
With dreams.
I guess
They will
Indeed
Succeed.

Rod jones 10/09/99
revised 1June 2003