Icy Waters

Iceberg n.10

Am I your icy water?

Am I so smooth, I shock your system when it’s + 45

Am I the smell of dirt, trees, grass and leaves?

Cause I try.

To be calm to reduce your anger

Be peaceful to diminish your fear

Composed to lessen your tension

I’ll be as cold as I need.

I’ll be the cold hard glacier to your burning lava heart

I’ll let you melt me, to keep you happy.

So Please, Please Please

Don’t ask me to be soft, warm and heart-full

Cause this icy water, is only for the love of a daughter.

And this icy water is only for the love of a mother.

And my icy water is only for the love of my lover.

Keeth Ratnes
24th Jun 2018


Light Switch


I heard you’re more social now,
I think I better go all out
Maybe that way you’ll come about
And realize
I was just being stubborn
But I was bleeding covered
Un-agreeing, my well-being was fleeing.
I can’t remember the fight; it led to a breakup, usually turned into a make-up; on and off
But I can’t find the light switch anymore. I still remember how to turn it on; it was a simple flick of my fingers.
You see it all use to be at my fingertips.
Turn off the switch when I needed some time with the boys

Turn on the switch when I needed you
But the hurt in your heart shocked the tips of my fingers
And short-circuited my memories and I just can’t remember,
Where that god damn switch is anymore.
Is it the pre or post war that’s got me sore?
Do I ignore or look for the carnivore
That fed on the flesh of your hurt,
But you knew. I needed to be exchanged; I was fried; damaged from your electrocution.  I invited your prosecution.
It was so clear. Your vision and
You knew it was a good decision
And … wow
I heard you’re more social now,
I think I better go all out
Maybe that way you’ll come about
And realize…

Keeth Ratnes
29th Jan 2017

My Saturdays

I miss you on my Saturdays.

I still remember the way we loved, and our foreplay.

Listening to reggae when she’s hopped up, she’s got me popped up.

So good, she wrote the story to my screenplay

You made me excited to wake up for my Sundays.

Felt like she was the cherry on every one of my Sundaes.

But when you’ve had a little too much ice cream,

You kind of wake up from that nice dream.

Guess you got to hate the feeling of after-pains

You know, the feeling when you go astray from bae,

And you knew she was the one, it was a dead giveaway,

But somehow, I walked away

Now what I’m trying to say is, guess I miss you on my Saturdays

Soooooo…. Give me a call sometime?


Keeth Ratnes (Saturday Jan 28th 2017)



Keys on a piano, the melodic soprano; makes music that only my memories can hear and mend words from the hands of Shakespeare.  This story, holds to me, very dear.

Of when I was young, doves fill in my lungs.  Four chords of a C major bring back memories of when I was a teenager.


“Today, is tomorrow” “Inspired by Michelangelo, I have a gift that I drew… and I’ve been waiting to give to you.”

Re-imagined a hundred times, I never played the right chords. Never showed you what I was working towards. Like the paint on a canvas, stroke the restraints I was anxious. I put it to a stop, painted my own backdrop; hung my own scenery on my stage, wrote the last words and I turned the last page.

Hiding in silence and fighting my giants, I was missing everything that I was wishing.

I lost my rhymes, stood there and watched time go, watched you live your life, and I had to let you go.

Keys on a piano, the melodic soprano; makes music that only my memories can hear and mend words from the hands of Shakespeare.

There is no love story. There is no tragedy. Just myself, anxiously letting you go.

Letting go of the tomorrow that never came, a plateau with my ever diminishing flame,

What could’ve, What if, Why I never did. Hiding in silence and fighting my giants.

Letting her go

Was the hardest thing I did

She never knew

I lived in a world of my own

She will never know

Of the tomorrow that will never be

Or the sound of that middle C, its beautiful resonances, the balance of its middle-ness; and the subtle symphonies, the sounds of simple-ness, its brilliance.


Keeth Ratnes (2016-07-23)



A life of struggle at a distance is nothing without time and space.
A life of struggle at a distance is nothing without time and a feeling out of place.
I’m calling to you to help me embrace what should have been a commonplace.
Yet your straight face puts me at disgrace, not wanting to retrace these subjects that have become so complex, I know you don’t like safe sex… but you see, that’s now caused some personal effects;
I’ve dug in too deep and you’ve showered me too damp, I’ve been constrained by these tight walls I’m looking for an escape.
Hear that?
That’s the sound of the wind working away at the air, moving, power-housed, storming through, and shaping the air for me to breathe. The wind moves without care or pity of air brutally scaring it’s every flesh.
Breathe all of these metaphors in so I really never have to tell you how I feel or the story of my life.
Why are you indulging in my pain? Maybe you yourself need a place to feel sane.
Explain, so I can attain the main reason of
why it rains on a sunny day of
why it snows in the dessert.
Of why I bathe after every time I’ve been sprayed.
Yes I’ve been sprayed, I’ve been hit by the blade, I’ve been betrayed and I am afraid. Invade, persuade and portrayed like a grenade. All words that rhyme that I choose not to give meaning too; at least enough for you to comprehend. I guess you can say I really miss my best friend. I think I did it again, I dug too deep, I can feel the rain, and I’ve been showered too damp. I need to avoid the pain and extend the lines of my words as my walls of defence. This should be common-sense yet my mind is a little too tense. The wind itself is intertwined with nature itself. Aligned with the horizon, nature is so disciplined.
I’m going through life, reaching new adventures and meeting new annoyances in my journeys that have me puzzled. My thoughts get muffled. I feel troubled. But I know it only makes me stronger, I keep growing muscles because of these struggles. Looking through all of this rubble I construe this bubble of a world that is forever blurred.
So welcome
Welcome to my world. Have a seat! And I’ll show you my realm of incomplete.

Keeth Ratnes 21/05/2016

Breaking Boundaries


What does it mean when I feel like I’m breaking boundaries

I feel like I’m battling an issue, Feel like I can’t continue and maybe I just need a tissue

Handed to me,

By her,

Maybe it’s something in her that I prefer, or the way I like to hear her scream moan and purr

Or maybe it’s just the conversations that we have.

I remember a conversation I had with her I said to her ‘Baby be strong’

She said ‘Easier said than done right’

I said ‘I wish I was there to hold you’

And she said ‘I wish you were here too’

But I wasn’t, I was the missing constant, Guess I never got the hint

I just know I’m growing up every day and I’m not the man I was yesterday

I still remember being 5 holding onto my mother

Being 21 and seeking wisdom from my father

Now nearly 30 and still I have a lot to discover

And I wonder, how much older do I have to get to be the man that I want to be

Never seeing that in the eyes of them, I was the man holding onto my mother at 5 when she needed me, seeking wisdom from my father when he needed a man to share himself with and now nearly 30 the man with a fortune of life experiences and words of wisdom to be uncovered.

‘I know I’m distant right now, but I want you to do me a favor, close your eyes, imagine me, in that tub, with you, wrapping you in my arms, holding you, cause I am, and it puts me at ease’

She said ‘My anxiety tub?… could use you’

I said ‘I’d absorb every tear that drops on my skin and warm you with protection that emanates from my body’

She said ‘I am pretty cold…it’s freezing in here’

I told her ‘I promise I’ll be the arms that come from behind to hold you. And tell you. I’ll be home to you soon and that it’s going to be okay.’

She said ‘I wish you were home’.

Going through life it only gets harder, makes me feel like I have some kind of manic disorder

I keep having to reach farther, but my arms are growing shorter

I still remember the drunken nights, the drunken fights, the insecurities that kept him inside

I become the dream of a life he imagined. Like a dragon I happen to breathe my passions with actions but seeing him crashing, those images flashing, yet he kept acting while our family was gasping for air when he left us with his ashes, like rashes over my memories our thoughts of him constantly clashes with our today.

I told her ‘You’re my life, I feel you. You’re my highs and lows. I’m myself; But so much more with you. You are essential to my love, I want to protect you, I want to give you good love, anything to make you strong, to make you love, to make you us, to make me yours.’

The right words are coming out, there isn’t a doubt

I’m growing old but I’m not slowing, no this is the time I see myself glowing

I’m becoming more of the man I want to be, I’m learning what kind of man I want to be

Guess that’s what happens when you feel like you’re breaking boundaries

This is what it means when I feel like I’m breaking boundaries

And I am breaking boundaries.

Keeth Ratnes 2016-05-08





At that moment my imperfections acted and I made,
A mistake
And I wanted to tell you, but in that moment, baby in that moment I didn’t want you, to ache
But now our words clashed together, we’ve created this ocean of headaches and heartaches.
Feels like our world is having an earthquake, I go out and break for goodness sake it’s starting to fade… our wedding cake.
But I know we can bake a beautiful cake and condemn any outbreaks.
If love and pain coexist I need you to take my heart, and break it, take it make it awake a new Everyday
Because I know Perfect is not real.
It Makes me want to kneel.
I can’t control this wheel and I’m just looking to steal,
The right words.
Because I know Perfect is not real.
It is as fake as the image that I want to maintain.
Perfect is just a fantasy,
In actuality it’s the capacity for humanity to sexually, and sensually make up… An unnatural reality.
I am those ashy knuckles that have bruised with every punch at life and experience
I am this gigantic nose that breathe the words as my teeth s-s-stutter to s-speak up the right words.
I am this imperfect face that looks you in the eye
I am the things that make me imperfect- Scared to face the world with my imperfections I long to be loved for them.
I long to be accepted And I long for tolerance.
What makes me anything close to perfect is, MY ambition
Ambition to fall down Get hurt Stand back up and speak the words of love
Those are the strengths of men
Of humans,
and This is humanity
When we become ambitious
And love is defined by struggles
And I feel this way, every laugh, every tear, is born, a newsun_an_moon_yin_yang__acrylic_painting_by_meta_mask-d79b5nh
There is no love without pain, there is no joy without sadness. Both coexist in harmony,
the Ying and the Yang. A true union of the flee. Now I offer this flee to you. Will you take thee, or let it be
Every pain, every fight, is worth it. No matter how much you misfit, I will still commit.
All I truly want, is not this microscope of yours that foretells my horoscopes
But the, cape of good hope and a few dozen eggs, to bake this cake. I need a helping hand to mix and stir, to pour and preheat this oven.
So the that WE
Can burn in this heat
And watch ourselves grow, rise and expand
Now take my hand and help me resolve this with you.
And I promise to stand by you in everything I, You, and We, do.
Because no matter what the view the truth is I love you.

Keeth Ratnes 2016-04-28




Need no ears


Need no sound


Are images of self-thought


Over imagined

Plunged within me

My faults, downs, and mistakes repeated, over imagined and plunged within me.

It is the reflection of presences resurfaced.

I cannot lie to myself, I knew how this would start, and I knew how this would end.

Just the way I expected; An echo from my presence.

Sounds of waves, my eyes are straining through dark waves for disruptions

I’m looking for a reply, but these echoes repeat my questions,


And over

It’s the same question.

There is no answer

These indented walls that crave my space have no answers for me. I am lost in the core of these echoes.

Waves have no eyes burdened within these walls.

How can I break a barrier? How do I change the past? Why am I burdened to live this life? I know that you have experienced this surrounding. I know you have cut ties. Your own blood used against you. Pushed away from your bonds, you are echoed alone.

This repetition,art-bampw-black-bones-Favim.com-2219702

This feeling,

This idea,


Darkness that echoed the colour of my pupil now piercing into your eyes

I am desire.

I am secrets.

I am sin.

I am excuse.

I am lies.

I have been sent here to sooth.

I have been sent here to invade.

Multiple faces I see my mind is a twin. I know what I’m doing,

My mind is your means to express

My mind creates reasons for you to shave away barriers

My mind creates a key into you

My mind teases at your sins

My mind rips open at your heart.

My mind invades and consumes you; Surrounding your insides,

I’ve closed your eyes with the night and these clouds have covered every light in your world with nothing but the space I create when I enter and when I devour.

Ingest me.

Let me crave your hunger of being felt.

I am only here to cause harm, pierce yourself with the knife my mind has become in the night.

Let me echo in your world.

So that you can echo within my walls

Echo within my walls.

I am here for this;

To Echo

And to be Echoed.

Echoes need no ears

Echoes need no sound

Echoes are images of self-thought,

It is the reflection of my presence resurfaced.

I cannot lie to myself anymore

I knew exactly how this would start…

And I knew exactly how this would end.

Just the way I expected,

When I command

You reply… yes

…and gasp for air

I am your sanctuary.

I am your Echoes of silence

I am your Echo

I am your Echo

I am your Echo.

End your night with me,

With no ears, no sounds, just echoes.

Keeth Ratnes 2016-04-12

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Keeth Ratnes 2016-04-12

A poem without a feeling


I can’t explain it sometimes, how to describes words to depict a sensation that has no illustration
It can only be experienced.
You must be at your low, you must have turmoil and struggles with every aspect in your life.
Then you can bring her, in, and hit rock bottom.
And when things get better, you find a new her,
But the anticipation, shivers my heart, to beat
My blood courses cold,
I have become ice.
Another frozen glacier with hidden secrets below the water
So much more of me to see beneath the surface yet all solid, cold iced and unmoving
I need saving, I need to be saved, I want to be saved, Someone save me
End my suffering, my confusion, my pain.
I want more than love, I want true happiness,
Am I happy? Why must I feel like this?
What is my duty, as a poet, I ask myself as I write to you.
To describe to you how to live life, to tell you about love, and that everything’s going be okay,
but the truth is,
it’s never going to be okay.
As a poet, I can only express what I feel,
I have no more energy to write lines of what I dream of
My dream has ended.
My discomfort unfailing,
And strength battered.
Father, tell me how I came to write a eulogy,
A tribute to you, and now, a tribute for myself.
I think, I understand now, the meaning of sacrifice and how it must feel,
To stand on the edge of a knife.
Welcome me home, for I have missed you.

Keeth Ratnes 2016-03-26


Keeth Ratnes 2016-03-26




A creature, that whom heeds the farthest preacher. For pleasure, the most leisurely treasure.

Of darkness, From the deepest depths, a guest who takes breath and rests.

To be picked up, the deadly cup.

No longer at peace beyond the veil, to breathe one’s last and become departed, now fading.

Dark wings of Divinity, Preaching the book of a God, Carried by the nails of bitterness

The feeling of the hollow voice after the end of my breath.

I can no longer gasp air,

but left

 with A lingering smile.

A precious apple.

How interesting, it, is, to see the flight of a God on Earth’s presence: Spikes, bones and eyes

she brings death, she brings darkness, she brings richness, but this brings beauty; Eternal sleep.

This is neither Heaven nor hell, past nor present, but empty space, a void that now consumes you

She needs god and me, she knees in pursuit of pleasure, a Shinigami.

Immoral, a goddess with a painted face

Thirteen days, a set of rules deceived

This unholy imprint marked by a devil’s deal, the book of sin

History, inked at speed, this is perfection

Taken off with my fingers and imprint down with ink

And from within the interesting will now begin.

Keeth Ratnes


Keeth Ratnes