Archive for February 2, 2018

Barefoot in the Rain

tiny splashes,
toes teasing toes,

as the rain lashes,
dancing under moonbeams,

hazy lazy clouds dripping nectar,

cheek to dripping cheek, your hand in mine,

your eyes sparkling with a fire divine.

dancing barefoot in the rain,

with you, my whole, my own, my life,

dancing with you,
barefoot in the rain,

toes tickle toes,
far from this life’s pain,

away from the strife,

with you, within you,

I have found renewed life

Hugh Masekela – “Stimela”



drilling for dead yellow nuggets,

hacking coughs,
bodies bruised, scraped,
the dust of a million years clogging lungs,

drilling, chipping away with hammers,

never knowing when the rock may crumble and fall.

Miners trapped beneath the land of the ancestors, as the lights go off,

entombed alive,

a thousand human beings, their lives meaningless to the corporations of profit at any cost.

Miners trapped beneath, wracked by fear of never seeing the African sun again, of not seeing their wives, their children playing in the rain.

Miners breaking stones, their backs cracking, wielding that hated drill,

ripping out chunks of the innards of the earth,

for dead yellow nuggets,

for cold shiny crystals,

for those above to sell,

for those above to covet,

for those above to look away, conveniently oblivious of the human pain, the agony, the death,

wreaked so that fingers and necks and ears may glisten with sickening pride,

choosing not to see, choosing not to know,

that for every dead yellow nugget,

for every cold crystal torn from the earth deep in that hell underground,

numberless shattered bones,

innumerable dead souls,

countless agonised screams,

abound and resound.


fading a little,

momentary thoughts slip away,

fleeing into the grass,

where wild flowers sensually sashay.

fading a little,

feelings ache to be embraced,

numbed by stings of accumulated clutter,

destined to swirl down fate’s yawning gutter.

fading a little,

emotions like scattered leaves on desolate pavements,

lonesome hearts invisible in empty tenements.

fading a little,

tomorrow’s words as yet unspoken,

the trepidation that they may already be broken.

fading a little,

taking an eternity to mend raw despair,

the jagged wounds that we all share.

fading a little,

ever seeking a gentle heart,

to be if only just,
an infinitesimal part.

fading a little,

trying to be human, for my pain is not just mine, yours not just yours

dreaming of us walking hand in hand, far away from life’s deafening roars.

fading a little,

the mirror a haunting spectre of advancing age,

after all these decades, still seeking release from the vacuum of this glittering cage.

fading a little,

through the harsh years that have gone before,

would you fade with me for just a little more?

fading a little,

stepping into the twilight of life,

would you fade with me off the precipice of this blade’s knife?

haven’t we, after all, weathered the pain, the desolation, the persistent jabbing strife?

fading a little, together.

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