warning: ‘sweet’ scribble ahead :)

warning: ‘sweet’ scribble ahead 🙂

across sultry
early spring
dusky skies

visions of you
glaze my eyes

mere daydreams
converging parallel streams

of
simple dreams

of sharing
the feeling
of being

of feeling

gentleness
warmth

thoughts
hopes
fears

some laughs
some tears

lapping at the shore
caressing the soul
to its core

while
intoxicating
Inflaming

all
senses

so
achingly close

separated merely
by picket fences

to
thoughts
of a friend

a fellow traveller
sharing
joys

knowing hearts at times
need soothing bouys
and
always striving
to maintain
mutual respect

never ever and i mean never as in ever ☺

being judgemental

choosing instead
to understand

by being
a bit more
circumspect 👍

and
by having also
tasted pain

and
hurt

loss
grief

of
being mindful
of time

that wily ol’ thief

and
so
i dream my dreams

delicious
seductive
serene
pure

dreaming that
my dreams
of you

persist

&
endure

✌🌻

walking through the crowd …

walking through the crowd …

alone
not lonely

traversing oceans
skipping mountains

tugged by beckoning smiles

absorbed along
endless miles

seeking strands of hope
loosely strung

untying the noose
where desolation once hung

while
scribbling verses unfathomably obtuse

discarding meter and rhyme

frantically
chasing ever-fleeing time

knowing
my moulting skin
is all that i have to lose

while still
walking through the crowd

alone
not lonely

an outsider

always
seeking peace
within

ever hopeful
of gentler days

when
healing may begin

soothing the soul

casting off leaden  weight

of so much that has in tne past,

past

lay your head on my chest

deciphering silence …

you and i

shielded by silence
barred from ourselves
insured against feelings

exiled hearts
building ramparts

a berlin wall
that may fall

so my friend
lay your head
upon my chest

and let my fingers
run through your hair

lulling you gently
to rest

life is far too short anyway
to squander even a day

so rest
my friend

rest

and lay your head
upon my chest

‘your timing is intolerable’

aren’t we all
at times

fragmented
broken
hypocritical
deliriously happy
mean
generous
pained
lost
hopeful
alive
numb
lonely
alone.

at times?

right. of course.
naturally . indeedy-doo.

well, your timing always was, intolerable’

✌🌻

flickering moonbeams …

flickering moonbeams …

on ancient shores
retracing steps

wet sand beneath bare feet

sipping kisses
hungry

sweet.

in distant streams

soul heart body mind
bathed as one

in sundrenched streams

flowing
ebbing
teasing
tugging

tasting
lapping
meandering

breathing caresses

wildly flickering
like
giddy moonbeams

on the cool wet sands

of
our beach of dreams

The African Rains …

The African Rains …

Soaking,
the rains settle,
meandering over jagged faultlines of our memory.

Drenching,
the rains settle,
streaming through veins,

the thud-thudding of the heartbeat of Africa.

Absorbing,
the rains that settle,
within each of us,

herald rebirth.

And,
if you listen,

if you strain to hear,
while shedding the raucous noise of your inner turmoil.

If you listen,

the whispers of the ancestors,

speak to us all,
lending us warmth,
urging us to stand,

even though we may
stumble,

even though we may fall.

neurons | dendrites 🔩

neurons | dendrites 🔩

something splintered
the fragmented mind

deep within
flimsy neurons

on
that day in may …

something splinters
flimsier dendrites

each and every bloody day

a shared mosaic

a shared mosaic.

threads
intertwined
bind

him
her
you

&

i

together.

earthy
shades
colours

hues
fuse

him
her
you

&

i

together.

one mosaic

one world
one race

human …

him
her
you

&

i

together …

memories of Ma …

memories of Ma …

bygone yesterdays
ploughing through

wisps of time
rekindle memories

of days now long gone
of evenings filled with birdsong

my Ma calling me home

for warm roti
cardamom chai

( sigh )

scribbling verses

Scribbling Verses …

scribbling verses
on her bare back

my fingers
rhyming

each flourish a caress
etching odes to hope
across the canvas

of warm skin …

her breath
inflamed

seeking
fingertips
lips

sashaying in the evening breeze

dancing free
abandoning trepidation

what do i know
as
fingers flutter

over undulating peaks
valleys

softly
gently

as soul meets soul

she who is
half of my whole

she who remains

my perennial
meditation

embers …

embers
sear

our open sky

rippling strings
bound together

like
falling stars
strumming
murmured melodies

emblazoned across shared tapestries

alive with colours

earthy
and
green

softening the stings
of all that was

all that is

all that has been

the duality of time …

the duality of time …

time
erodes

loves lives hearts
souls spirits selves …

time
mends

wounds
souls

a salve
a balm

knowing
in the end

there is always

only

stillness
silence

peace
calm

my vagabond heart …

my vagabond heart
shuffles
ever on

seeking unknown truth
here there everywhere
as years fade like youth.

still the vagabond heart shuffles ever on

the paths have been long
stepping across minefields

at times hopeful
at times suffocated by dread

while too many fractured smiles
and
tattered feelings
litter the paths i have tread.

my vagabond heart shuffles still

its
pieces strewn
hither and thither

my
tears slipping
slithering bruised
perennially on the mend

as i trudge on
oblivious

but ever hopeful
ever searching

for the wild flower
that may blossom

just
around

the next bend …

The Standard Model …

The Standard Model …

bygone kisses
hungry breaths

all our lives
all
our
loves

all just
a couple
of particles

like
me & you
as we model

standardly
entrenched

and
as we
strum
plucking strings

while
hearts go busily about
rearranging things

as
particles do

that gentler way …

that gentler way …

sometimes in dreams
this world feels a much gentler place

where hunger stalks nights and days no more

where we share this earths gifts

more equally
less greedually

a gentler place

where we’ve bade farewell to war …

sometimes in dreams
i taste the hope

of a gentler world

where songs of joy may be heard each day

a gentler world
where we all

all of us
together

as one

always
always

always
strive to find

that gentler way …

( inspired by Pete Seeger’s “Last Night I had the Strangest Dream” )

http://stopwar.org.uk/music/pete-seeger-last-night-i-had-the-strangest-dream

the air and the flute

the air and the flute …

as air caresses the flute

unseen

leaving not a trace
of itself

gently melodious notes
echo invisibly

fused
by passionate breath mingling with air

unseen

wordlessness

wordlessness …

shards of everyday life
slice through

cleaving
flesh

splintering
bone

battering the ramparts

chiselling away
incessantly

endlessly

shaving off pieces
bit by bit

tearing muscle

frying synapses
charring hope

with
only the
inevitability of endlessness

the tide of desolation

washing in
soaking dreams in diesel

fueling storms that rage within

deep
inside yourself

where there is only you
where all the pain
all the loss

feels

at least
true

merciless hope

dreams fade
eventually

slithering
into
pale fogginess.

years recycle years

grinding down
shellshocked lives

more
raw
fodder for the beast.

but not hope

because
hope persists

mercilessly
jabbing

at
the
core

hope twists knives

a
teasing
constant
ache

hope

the very ache
that
assures me

that

i

am

alive

the immigrant at home

the immigrant at home

fatigued
pained

cast adrift
shunned aside

living
existing
on
islands of despair

deprivation
death

human beings
you and i

who just yesterday
or perhaps many lives ago

were
hounded
persecuted
jailed

cursed
spat on

rendered
alien at home

and
then

lost at sea

mere cattle
to be hauled

onto desolate cages

mere cargo
in the
economics of flesh

and
who
now

are
everywhere

cursed
spat on

and
told

to go home

rustin’ away ( for ‘True Detective’ fans )

rustin’ away …

swept along tugged by the currents that weave cobwebbed chaos hurling us tossing our malleable forms further into the poisoned seas as tide after merciless tide batters and shatters our mortality thrusting us deeper into the bowels of asphyxiating numbness and dumbness that has numbed down and dumbed us even more so because we need the charade to persist for our egos will and shall not whittle away as flesh decays and in that sliver of the blink of an eye is the hysterical maniacal orderly randomness of it all in its naturally-selected symmetry of nothingness because how am i supposed to wake up tomorrow or next weekend if not for some hardwired tripswitch that shuts all critical thought albeit for an instant but in that instant and in each of those instances the ego keeps on cashing in on deluded overtime and we you her him i us yes us all don’t even know that its happening all the time and that it has happened since the manufacturing of the illusion of time and that it is happening right now to me and perhaps to you too yeah hmm

alright alright alright

        __________

“Life’s barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good at” – Rustin Cohle (True Detective)

http://thoughtcatalog.com/steve-harris/2014/07/18-thought-provoking-rust-cohle-quotes-thatll-chill-you-to-the-bone/

the tears of olives

the tears of olives  …

trickling down shrapnelled flesh

tears fall

like
blood
on
bloodied
cheek

while in the sun

lifeless bodies
lie cold as stone

still
the tears of olives
flow

salty sentinels
of memory:

pain
suffering
occupation
hunger

the tears of olives
perennially streak

etching pathways of dust

between alleyways of desolation

hopelessly bleak

yet still
the slaughter continues

as more dead bodies

rot
reek

uBuntu = humanity

uBuntu = humanity

all roots
alive

weaving intricate veins

over our shared
common plains

feeding tributaries
slipping over streams

all so

one sea
one world
one earth
us all

may be fed

like our shared blood

for
the river feeding us

all of us

the river ebbing and flowing through our veins

etching tributaries within all of us

is of one colour

it is

all of it …

red.

  ____________________

uBuntu is an isiXhosa/isiZulu concept that espouses “the belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity”

an immigrants lament

an immigrants lament

gazing at the sky
i often wonder why,

birds soaring,
high in the open sky,

are free to fly?

is it that they have wings,

for i too have wings, friend,

so,
i often wonder why,

huddled against desolate sleet,

and,
i often wonder why,

buried under flimsy newspapersheet,

that i too have wings, friend,

i too have wings!

and my wings,

are my feet!

What is uBuntu?

uBuntu …

every seashell

ever silenced
emptied

lost to the tide

shares the desolation

of
each leaf
of
every tree

that ever fell …

_____________________

uBuntu is an isiXhosa/isiZulu concept that espouses “the belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity”

uBuntu

uBuntu …

every spent shell
ever silenced
emptied

lost to the tide

shares the desolation

of
each leaf

of
every tree

that ever fell …

just chasing the dream, man …

searching for better days …

seizing breaths
frantic

breaths ever fleeing

grasping
holding on

fingers raw
mind a sprawl

while below

the cackling sniggering chasm

hungers
for
marinade
in
the
grinder

souls numb absolved as dumb
hearts hard admiringly referred to as being hardy

fester
ever on
and on

rotting
making a stink

slipping
deeper into

inviting arms
plush sofas
leather chairs

plastic smiles
promises of far too many miles

all yet to be trodden upon

many yet to be trampled on

but all that too shall be all lost in the haze

while scavenging
ravenous
covetous

looking
searching

trampling onwards
trodding

ever on
and upon

anyone
anything

just chasing the dream, man …

10-4

alive …

lashed against jagged truths

plumbing the depths of hollow emotions

straining to hear
your voice calling me back

aching to taste
your breath scalding my lips

pining to feel
forgotten whispers murmured

swirling around
the rapids

gasping for air

nursing a simple dream
nothing grandiose

to feel
once more

alive.

alive …

an embrace

our shared strands
of light

afloat on tendrils of starstuff

whisper warmth

sketching memories
painting tears

falling like leaves

etching reminders
of less warm times

tenderly
infusing hope

urging me

you
us

to
embrace

here
today

now

sapphire sky

in the distance
flickering softly

warm hope
yawns

bathing this
soft morning

with
birdsong

whispering tales of journeys done

beneath the canopy
of
boundless

sapphire sky

in the belly of xenophobia …

in the belly of xenophobia …

when you see them
passing by your pretty green avenues

grab your garden rake
stone the encroaching horde

they take our jobs
they marry our women

put them all
to the sword

bloody foreigners

leeching off our taxes
stinking up the neighborhood

send them all home

seek them out in every street

in every bar

and finish them off
one by one

finish and klaar

15th August 1947

15th August 1947

1.

the multitudes rose,
the shackles of colonial rule was at an end,

on this 15th day of August in 1947,

the ‘Jewel in the Crown’ shook off the yoke of the British Raj,

India was free!

2.

today we reflect,
today we pause,

to honour the countless sons and daughters who so valiantly gave their lives so that others could be free,

today,

on this 15th day of August in 2015,

we know the battles that lie ahead,

we acknowledge the wars still to be waged,

not against foreign domination,

no,

today our battles are closer to home,

today our struggle is to keep the collective conscience of humanity alive,

so that we all may thrive,

in a world less cruel,
less violent,
less iniquitous,

more just,
more humane,

more imbued with the simplest of radical propositions:

that we are all one race,
the human race,

that we are not free when others are still flinging stones at metallic beasts,

that we are not free when women are trapped in the clutches of misogny,

that we may never be truly free,

till we open our eyes,

and stop
and think

and see,

the multitudes hungering for a slice of bread,

the unwashed trying against tremendous odds to simply survive,

I am not free,
the chains still tightly bound,

until that day,

when hunger,
deprivation,
hopelessness,

are consigned to the trashcan of history,

and only then,
and only on that day,

when there isnt a hungry child,

to be found,

may we trumpet our victories,

and only then,
and only on that day,

may we all,
proclaim,

that finally,

we are finally,

truly free …

talkin’ corneal-transplantation stitches blues …

talkin’ corneal-transplantation stitches blues …

in stitches,
tears stream down my cheek,

grains of sand sprinkle my eye,

( sigh )

a stitch in time,
may save nine,

but my lesson has been learned:

don’t get too big for my britches,

after all,

life has been kind,

even if it often leaves me in stitches …

broken verse

metallic tastes burrow deeper into me,

‘i am lost’, i say,

as leaden weight blankets my vision,

and emptiness looms with frantic precision,

‘i am lost’, i say,
once more,

driving the stake deeper and deeper,

into my innermost core,

leaving me

impotent,
torn,
broken,

a shade,
of all i thought i was before,

lost amidst the myriad strands,

of tomorrows yet to dawn,

caught,
drawn,
quartered,

in the vice grip of yesterdays pain,

always,
always,

always,
against the grain,

of cultured norms,
and polished forms,

digging,
stabbing,

skewering those moments,
lost forever,

in a paradise of thorns,
where carcasses are mounted onto silken sheets,

plundered,
pillaged,

by mere men,
monsters sans horns,

where desolation stalks the empty spaces,

etched on numberless faces,

battered and beaten down,

gurgling,
gasping,

snatching odd breaths,

as the edifice itself,

sinks,
tugged below,

ever so slow,
into the quicksand of oblivion,

where suns dipped,
and souls tripped,

onto the final barge,
stammering on our river,

cut to pieces,
shred,
mangled,

diced and sliced,
sliver by agonising sliver

why?

why?

why do we fall on bended knee,

to beseech the Almighty?

Do we think God is blind and cannot see,

all that we covet,
all that we crave,
all that we want,

the rewards of this life and the heavenly hereafter,

do we really truly believe that God is blind and cannot see?

only then …

only then …

when we covet gleaming automobiles,

shiny watches,
pendants of gold,

the latest and the greatest,

of what the Mall has to offer,

we betray humanity,
religion too,

for only when the lust ceases,

when the urge to splurge is stilled,

when we see each other not as vessels for material gratification,

when we sever the silken shackles of ostentation,

only then,

may we preach,

but until then,

we’ve left what makes us human far behind,

may we soon,
turn around to see,

that humanity isn’t bought or bartered or sold,

it’s within us all,

and
if we truly seek,

only then,

shall we our lost consciences find …

bought. sold …

it feels fungal,

the itch of hate,
stab of resentment,

souls wounded,
walking along avenues inlaid with broken diamonds,

passing edifices of gold,

where anything,
anyone,

everyone,

neutered from human to being,

commodities,

bought. sold.

nonsense ( a forewarning )

nonsense ( a forewarning )

thoughts meandering down bylanes of fogged memories, skipping over stoic stones, left strewn on the riverbeds of dreams torn, stones worn smooth over the passing of epochs, bidding adieu to faces sharpened by pain, tears dripping blood from hacked-off branches, amidst the static of the zinging pinging in the trenches, beckoned by unchartered waters of promise, a sea of endless beginnings, heralding news days, basking under the warmth of the sun, bathed and cleansed, embraced, marinading on the boil, gently stewing, moulting lost skins betrayed by times’ delicate plucking, on the strings of life, vibrations of passionate truth ring out, finding only multitudes of deadened and deafened scars, salving sins in soaked bars, slipping away without a shout, leaving me thinking –

what was it all ever about?

qwerty lovey-doveyness …

qwerty lovey-doveyness …

if they ever ask
tell them i had to leave

my blazer collar high
bittersweet pain tugging at my sleeve

if they ask
tell them i needed to hide away

from myself at times

through bleak nights
leeching each day

while all the while
scribbling a dream

( typed
auto-corrected )

on virtual parchment

( qwerty )

when virtual tears
metamorphose

from stillest pond
to torrential stream …

wishy – washy happy – clappy weekend blah-de-blah …

wishy-washy happy-clappy weekend blah-de-blah …

the essence of your soul
distilled

in a drop of pure rainwater

an equilibrium

the celestial gyrations of intersoular desires

the
essential elements drawn mystically together

the quantum realms of loves past and emotions lost

memories like cigarette burns

tease
at first

then
trickle
and
smoulder

and crash
like splintering cutglasss

in every universe
ever inhabited

in each drop
of each tear

falling to the living earth

absorbing the spirits of past bygones

karmic destiny
predestined theatre

who’s left to tell

but yourself

gently subtly soothingly
cleansing your mind

at rest
at long last

having found the truth
within you

a truth that seemed so distant once

so elusive

yet always
resided within you

always
embedded so
deep

always remaining
so perenially
pure

and eternally so

oh-so-very
so very true …

immigrant song

are we broken by spoken barbs spewing out of sewers cloaked beneath acceptable garbs while the blades of splintered humanity are sharpened into lethal shards of ‘my country right or wrong’ under the comfortable charade of clinging onto feigned piety dragged along weaving new lies obfuscating what’s right and what’s wrong waving flags like swords wielding swords to behead and to subjugate the many who’ve forever been on the wrong side of the gate shut out of the dream pummelled by untruths of working hard and doing more and shutting up because we need the money the greenback the notes the coins the oil the designer innerwear that barely shrouds the stench of putrid opulence of festering greed of capital and influence and power ripping out each seed by the by wishing a better life for all a hasty goodbye because when love and life and hopes and dreams and aspirations and desires and aches and yearning for something better just a bit better not much not much at all except for some grain for the famished and respite for the numberless banished cast away into the currents of the seas swept along islands of stillness breaking ashore with the waves of happenstance.

so yes
yes

“that’s how i got to be here”, the immigrant says …

your fingers, mine

your fingers
mine

sketching dreams
scribbling hopes

my fingers
yours

holding back
resistant

knowing the path ahead
littered with thorns

oblivious
knowing

the path ahead must be walked

alone at times
but never lonely

not with you by my side
evoking a belonging felt true and deep

inside

awakening

awakening

the caress of hair
whispered dreamily

swirling symmetry
between hungering mouths

lips tongues
intertwined

basking in this moment
holding onto each kiss

for dreams cease
only to be left

aflutter
in the willowy haze of diluted time

leaving the detritus:
merely wasted time

behind …

but then, you always knew …

only you will know
and i will gladly laugh along

ill say my stale jokes
ill (try to be at least lol) try to be charming

maybe not too classy
but with a not-too shabby sense of humour

and that is always what they like

but even so

at the end of it all

you will still know

and i shall be grateful
that you know

knowing too
that you always knew …

the fog of war

the fog of war …

when does this ache cease
where does this path lead

if not
deep

into the quagmire
of
no-mans land

alone lonely
wishing it were
the nightmares
once so real

now all too true
as i lay
bogged down

stagnant entrenched
inert
yielding not an inch

yet still
still

not a moment passes
and
hardly a second fractions

till

thoughts of you invade my being

pummeling through me

a dazzling light
blinding ablaze

breathing fire

igniting
raw real
famished

desire to breathe

again
once more

in
my sleepless dreams

wounded
shrapnelled torn

forever
slipping into the blur

yet still
still

“its alright”

yet still
still

its your voice
that

through the fog

i hear

                … a faint
                      murmur

channeling rustin cohle

channeling rustin cohle …

… yeah so okay it’s all just horseshit this damn grinder of souls enmeshed in sordid dreams of twisted consciences lost along the highway of shovelled lies spawned by the inebriated copulation of the gelatinous whole this whole hysterical theatre of bits and bites of neurons sparking all just electricity just plain damn old electricity seeding grief sorrow pain loss ache death life hiroshima where the living envied the dead yes that place this place still this place that exists as large as castles in our collective so called human minds collectively speaking of course but also force-fed the illusion of individual choice …

“I am become Death”*

“I am become Death”*

( Hiroshima 08h15
August 6, 1945 )

early morning

cats scrounged for food
dogs roamed
birds chirped

people stirred
children laughed
lovers quarrelled

while the beast approached

carrying its lethal payload

and then …

43 seconds after the US B-29 Bomber ‘Enola Gay’ dropped its payload –

codenamed ‘Little Boy’

the blast occurred

temperatures reached 1 million degrees celcius

while
below

the city of Hiroshima was cloaked under a mushroom cloud

16 kilometres into the radioactive sky

140,000 people died on that August day in Hiroshima

the survivors known as the Hibakusha spoke of horrors beyond words:

a teenage girl with her right eyeball hanging from her face

a woman grasping at her torso to stop her intestines falling through

bodies littered the ground

limbless charred flesh burnt off

shadows of human beings imprinted by the blast onto stone

chunks of hair
falling off
skin peeling

flesh falling to the roasting crematorium that was Hiroshima

we remember Hiroshima
we remember Nagasaki

we say never again

never ever again.

______________________

Eyewitness account by Sunao Tsuboi 20 years at the time and 90 years old now.

Thanks to the article from AFP wires “Cloud of Hell and Death”

* – Robert Oppenheimer’s quote from the Bhagavad Gita “I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds”

froth

with this new morn
may your dreams soar on

into the boundless openness of promise

away from the strife of the now
far from the pain of today

away from words sentences faded alphabets dead parchment

to shed it all
tossing the detritus away

and to rise

to rise up
to grab on

onto dreams
onto hopes

free
free finally to unshackle
chains cast off

oaths mouthed
vows broken

free
free finally from frothy lies

and
.
alive
truly alive
at last

under never ending
pristine

cloudless skies

Survivors Guilt

Survivors Guilt

who are we who walked away

unbruised
from the battles that raged

from the countless struggles that were waged

who are we who walked away

scribbling words
through teary-eyed

scribbled
nothingness

weakened tired
fatigued odes to the memories of all those who died

who are we who walked away

while comrades fell
fathers and mothers bled

while the blood of so many martyrs was so selflessly shed

who am I to walk away

cocooned vacuum-sealed
my conscience inured

sterile and impotently  packaged

while the war rages on
leaving far too many souls behind

their lives
their dreams

their tomorrows broken
savaged ravaged

who am i?

words

Words

tears trickle down
the
bruised cheeks of time

eroding splinters
smothering words

churned out without reason of rhyme

just words

words
now impotent

simple sentences
blurred by tears

though never
ever
blurred by fears!

oh yes!

words defy fear
words repel hate

words are alive

may they  thrive
as we strive

for a more just world
with less tears

less fears

no blue monday for you

no blue monday for you

when tears moisten your eyes
and the horizons seem leaden
weighed down by grey skies

when
everyone
everything

suffocates
and life seems like a sad circus
a comical convergence of fates

may you always
always

pause …
to
remember …

that
you are human too

and
that
you feel

deep in your marrow
your entire being through

the sting of griefs fire
and
the ache of unquenched desire

felt
deep

felt true
within you