the jo’burg rains

after the Jo’Burg rains…

…last night’s rain lashed the city less like a whimper and more like a good solid hearfelt cry

while lightning whipped and cracked through the jo’burg sky

as the rain-gods of africa blessed us with their bounty from way up high

they say the gold beneath our feet attracts the electrical storms that are so fierce

the very tempests that stab my soul and into my fragile heart pierce

for the thunder that rolls and rumbles is loud enough

to proclaim that the hard rains that are gonna fall are going to be biting and rough

and though the streets of jozi empty rather soon

the clouds darken and the smell of humid hope inflames our oflactorial senses as we await the miraculous boon

and then all hell breaks loose and roams the streets of my beloved jo’burg wild and free

and the rawness of it all is a sight to hear and sense and feel and to in awe see

for the rain and the thunder and the lightning is frightening at times

slashing through the ash-hued skies and stripping me of my pitiful rhymes

for the force of nature is then pure and clear to behold

and in silence we stand and watch as the water drenches this crazy beautiful city of gold

a jo’burg shower is a sight to soak in and to absorb and to feel

for it has the primal energy to dazzle and frighten and make each and every one of your senses reel

and so…

I hope it rains again on this overcast and cool saturday

so to the gods of africa I say a silent prayer and say

all praise to you for blessing us with a land and a sky and a people so true

ngiyabonga, kea-leboga, ndo-livhuwa, siyabonga, dankie, thank you

thank you

thank you…

Johannesburg Breeze … … …

jo’burg breeze

tasting you,
                     breathing you,
                    feeling you,

                    exquisite,
                  bittersweet
                     touches,

undulating,

swaying in the jo’burg breeze,
             
             for just knowing you,
          infuses emotions of mirth,

of simple joys,

                         of peace …

on hope … … …

on hope: tomorrow is ours.

years ebb, flow,
tangoing the same old dance, rehashing the same tired show,

temporarily anaesthetised,
inured,

cured, from the accursed affliction,
buy, drink, eat, and buy some more,

as the machine grinds flesh and bone,
rendering hearts frigid as stone,

years like tides, slip away,
sweeping this beach of dreams,

common dreams, shared through the uBuntu of being human,

hope, for a less harsh world,
more food, less war,

education, not the burning of books,

treating each other as human,
shedding the cloak of indifference,

to revel,
all of us, the people,

bathed in the warm light of true freedom, real justice,

as bigotry, hatred, racism, misogyny etc etc etc in the corner cowers,

for we shall always,
always, be many, many more,

for tomorrow shall dawn,
and the future is ours …

when you kiss me … …

when you kiss me,
beneath our shared African skies,

fattened drops of nectar – heavenly rain,
like honeyed-corn,
fell upon us,
blurring our eyes,

drenching you,
and i,

together, momentarily,
and eternally,
perennially,
immeasurably,

though perhaps still,
’tis illusory,

a sliver of time,
razor-edged, real,

perched between:

passionate reason …
desirous rhyme …

N O S T A L G I A tugs … …

nostalgia tugs
seductively

subtly

whisking the mind away

away
to
those
custard-apple evenings

of
monsoon drenched rain

whistling between trees of rhyme

peacock feathers
lying listless

as
beaten as these lines

and still beyond it all
past rainbows fractured

the sun still shines

mending soggy feathers

aflutter
alone

always alone
on cardamom clouds

leading me here

to now.

this moment
trapped
vacuum sealed
anaesthetised

through
countless
incense-smoked paths

crumbling

on
ever on

with
many
dreams strewn asunder

as heartless time
tireless time

rages on

shedding fatigued smiles

over the countless

numberless
exhausted
miles

scribble sans punctuation #2

just as morning sashays and twirls
dust clouds of trepidation swirls

another day infused with light
hushing the whispers of covetous night

where hopes are paraded like wares
and dreams traded as blue chiselled shares

when all of this and all that jazz
raises the din to an unbearable razmatazz

humaneness getting lost amidst the incessant din
wearing each others patience thin

till night swoons back into view
thankful that todays tears were but a few

and so it goes on and on and ever on
far too many battles fought for the war to ever be won

till it all comes down to this hollow grand charade
trumpeting the crudeness of the passing parade

till leaden hearts fall faitigued to the ground

rotting as the vultures circle around

waiting for the flesh to rapidly decay
chewing and spitting out souls decapitated along the way

is this the living of life blabbered about in verse and in song
when each being survives the tribulations of the wrong

even as we sputter on in the gutters
gulping every breath in doleful stutters

lambasting him and her and them all as convenient nutters

panting as down go the fragile shutters

wistfully trampling on hearts of glass that shatter

but who cares in any case what really is the matter

expecting no peace as howling winds screech and batter

each fragile heart grinning insolently
like the maddest hatter

yes this is life they say

this is life

devoid of mirth yet mired in aching strife

scribble sans punctuation

when night falls
the wolf calls

to renegade souls on the run
unfurling banners beneath the hidden sun

writhing underneath the detritus of the days
moulting skin left on gypsy highways

seeking refuge
reeking of perspired moonshine
traipsing hither and thither walking the line

till dawn slips past
moments meant never to last

scraping the veneer down to rust

lost in shorn flakes strewn in the dust

Valentines Day Redux … … …

be my valentine ... ?

Valentines Day Redux … … …

ah!

that time of year once more,

the expectations to do this, buy that,

begin to tickle and murmuringly gnaw.

should there be roses, and if so could they all be red,

or fragrant petals strewn all across the bed,

with some catnip on the side, pretty please and with sugar,
and dollops of whipped cream,

for that,
I do know,

would be my cat’s Valentines Day dream … … …

✌✊👍🐹