Archive for December, 2018


free as the wind





free as the wind …




your strength, your resolve,

your resilience, your warmth,


real, tangible, fiery,


sparks afloat in the wind,

unshackled, free,


to soar the boundless skies,


and i,


i am fortunate,

to have shared a moment or two,


and i am lost, blinded,

if it weren’t for you,


a gentleness sublime,

shared,


in stolen moments,




when,

my unseeing gaze meets your deep, inviting eyes.




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from the Nelson Mandela Foundation

from the Nelson Mandela Foundation



2019 …



twenty-nineteen beckons,

our final years of being teens,


but will we ever grow up – will we ever heed the words of the peacemakers, will we ever learn from the lessons of history?




unfortunately not – for we do not heed the words of the peacemakers,


and we have yet to learn from the lessons of history –


we have yet to value people over profits,


the earth over corporate greed,


the most brutal capitalistic ‘measures’ over that which is good for all of us,


that which is good and fair and does not fling humanity into the rubbish heap of shredded dignity.




will twenty-nineteen be any different?


will we share more and hoard less?


will we give more and take less?


will we abandon the ever slithering of the metastasised notions of racial superiority,


will we eradicate the infectious sickness of religious fanaticism,


will we shake the foundations of economic systems that heap obscene wealth to the few, while discarding scraps to the many,


will we smash down the hetero-patriarchy, and with it the malignant misogyny that denies gender-rights, that promotes female-genital mutilation, that pays women far less than their male counterparts doing exactly the same work.




will twenty19 be any different at all?




perhaps, if only, with the simplest act – 


of lending a hand to those who stumble,


of eradicating the need for children to have their stomachs rumble,


of together not letting each other fall:


of together,


standing tall …




from google



common fountain … …




in a world tugging,

pulling, drawing and quartering,


each soul apart,


and as mercy, humanity, love,


effortlessly, and resistance-free,


depart,


embracing ignorance, hugging credulous unreason,


fracturing human bones,

cartilage, tendons ripped,


shattered hearts, broken minds,


there can be but one answer,

simplistic as it may sound,


teach respect, not creed,

worship shared humanity,

shun lecherous greed,


then, and I believe only then,

may we truly, as one,


from our common fountain feed …



from google

from google



awaiting the African rains …



there is a rustling of leaves, sashaying in a sensual dance of the trees,

an awakening of senses, butterflies fluttering across the plains,

as the thrashing sun is shielded by dark clouds,

filled with the promise of soothing African rains.




all around is the scent of parched earth, eagerly awaiting the nectar from the skies,

reviving exhausted birds in their nests, knowing the coming downpour shall wash away the detritus of torrid days,

wiping away tears from so many thirsty eyes.




overwhelmed by the mirth of the expectant grass,

rolling with a hush, on the buds of every flower,

awaiting the life bestowing blessings of a serene summer shower.




the coming of the African rains, filled with life,

offering a bounty hope for the living beings we share this earth with,

as we all await, patiently,

for the deluge that shall cleanse away all of yesterdays’ strife …




from google


from google

I refuse 



i refuse …


to bow

scraping for scraps in the dirt



i refuse


to kneel

cowering before the altar



i refuse


to lose

hope for a better tomorrow



i refuse


to stop believing

that love will gently prevail


where mirth peace respect may again walk tall


in the very places


where once roamed nothing but sorrow …


“The Immigrants Void” – Sculpture by Bruno Catalano

http://brunocatalano.com/sculpture-bronze2/sculpture-en-bronze-bruno-catalano.php?galerie=1





migrant feet.




bleeding feet.

bare,
alien,
calloused feet,

that bleed,

trudging,
scraping souls,

seeking paths that lead,

somewhere,

anywhere from here,
from the horror of the now,

wiping bloody sweaty tears,
of grandmothers’ brow,

seeking refuge, sanctuary,

from bullets,

from epithets that wound,
that slay,

from men, always men,

puffed-up, inflated,
stuffed with raw venomous hate,

to be flotsam and jetsam,
adrift on the seas,

crammed into boxes,
clutching onto every choked breath,

seeking another fate,

not an asphyxiated blueish death,

tossed, seasick,
wracked and pained,

inside,
cattle-cars, slave-ships,

modernised mechanised terror,

the horror of self-righteous zeal,

nations, cultures,
tribes, traditions,
creed,

stoking the flames,
sectarian, communal,

the fuel on which bigotry must feed …


tiny feet, old and cracked,
all kinds of blistered twisted feet,

a death march along the treelined street,

seeking only alleyways of peace,

and,
perhaps,
perhaps, a bite to eat,

as gleaming chariots roll on by,

and if you’re thinking you’re safe,

if you’re thinking it isn’t us, its them,

him, her, they, those people,

for now,

think again,
and think how,

“… first they came for the communists … ” *



      
           _____________

* Pastor Martin Niemoller

http://tinyurl.com/oo45esm



Jesus Christ” by Woody Guthrie …





Jesus Christ was a man who traveled through the land,

Hard working man and brave,

He said to the rich, “Give your goods to the poor.”,

So they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.



Jesus was a man, a carpenter by hand,

His followers true and brave,

One dirty little coward called Judas Iscariot,

Has laid Jesus Christ in his grave.



He went to the sick, he went to the poor,

And he went to the hungry and the lame;

Said that the poor would one day win this world,

And so they laid Jesus Christ in his grave,



He went to the preacher, he went to the sheriff,

Told them all the same;

Sell all of your jewelry and give it to the Poor,

But they laid Jesus Christ in his grave,



When Jesus came to town, the working folks around,

Believed what he did say;

The bankers and the preachers they nailed him on a cross,

And they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.



Poor working people, they follered him around,

Sung and shouted gay;

Cops and the soldiers, they nailed him in the air,

And they nailed Jesus Christ in his grave.



Well the people held their breath when they heard about his death,

And everybody wondered why;

It was the landlord and the soldiers that he hired,

That nailed Jesus Christ in the sky.



When the love of the poor shall one day turn to hate,

When the patience of the workers gives away,

“Would be better for you rich if you never had been born”,

So they laid Jesus Christ in his grave,



This song was written in New York City,

Of rich men, preachers and slaves,

Yes, if Jesus was to preach like he preached in Galillee,

They would lay Jesus Christ in his grave.







Merry Christmas to all friends!

H O P E





though pummelled by cantankerous day,

embracing encroaching night,


the desolation lifts,

glimpsing a shimmer in the tunnel,

of hope’s eternal light … … …



In your eyes #6

Min your eyes #6




in your eyes, a maelstrom of emotion,


in your eyes, whirlpools of desire,


beckoning, inviting me to plunge, into the celestial waters,


of your eyes 









in your eyes #5





whittling down reason, drawing out a rhyme,


searching for the truth,

hurtling through time,


in your eyes, i find my answer, my refuge from the incessant rain,


in your eyes, i sail upon the ocean, devoid of pain …

In your eyes #4
in your eyes, i see,

waters of turquoise,

pearls in the deep,


in your eyes, i drown,

swept by the currents,

banishing my sleep,


in your eyes, i feel,

a yearning for peace,

beyond the tears we weep …

In your Eyes #1.




1.



As another day recedes,


enveloped under the shawl of night,


allow me to drown,

in your eyes.




Moments fleeting,

fickle hands of time unseeing,


allow me to seek solace,

in your eyes.




The trodden path littered with each shard,


regrets this heart wishes to discard,


so allow me to seek refuge,

in your eyes.




i have walked through twisting boulevards of life,


seeking simple joy, away from desolation, strife,


so allow me to find peace,

in your eyes.




2.




In your eyes,


i find,

the gentleness left behind,


away from superficial smiles,


away from fatigue of the walked mile.



In your eyes,


i feel,

at home at long last,


your love caressing away the restlessness of the past,


stepping out of the shadows to embrace pure contentment,


though a bit player,


in your life’s theatrical cast.




In your eyes,


i touch,

the flame of promise radiating through your loving light,


that is why,

i no longer dread,


the vacuum of encroaching night …

May your embracing warmth,


be forever by your side,


may you walk the soft beaches of the fates, at the coming in of the tide.




May life shower you with love, laughter, truth, peace, health,


your spirit a wellspring of ceaseless wealth.



May your dreams be boundless soaring through hopeful skies,


the hopeful skies residing,


swirling, bubbling,


in your eyes …






in your eyes #3




in your eyes,

marmalade swirls,

candyfloss twirls,


draw me ever deeper,


as another day unfurls …




I was fractured, my mind in tatters, my thoughts asunder, raging with bellicose thunder, till you stilled my angst, my wayward selfwrath, you took me in, firm and with harsh love, you mended my soul, and I may not have thanked you, so belatedly, thank you for helping me back to being whole … … 





caressing seductively swaying marmalade roses …


teasing stealthily approaching moonbeams,


the smell of you lingers,


on,

and on,


awake,

emotions a-wander,


thoughts of you, seduce soul,

mind, body, whole,


basking,


intoxicated,

transfixed,


warmed,

fanning embers of your furnace,

this ravenous fire,


this healing glow,

enveloping your being entire …






nonsensical raving …



dreaming of unfettered tomorrows, with no weight of the now bogging us down, no more plasticine smiles, stuck on fake faces, all worn to get through a single day. no more vacuum sealed desires, to be consumed within three days after opening, the sham of it all boldly apparent, mirroring our cardboard selves.


when does it end, this gold-plated facade, this charade of having it all, and having it all together, without cracks on the edges, as unnatural as neatly trimmed hedges.


where did we go so wrong, our vocal acquiescence to the shimmering glittering circus that breezed through town some day decades ago, promising gags whilst gagging us to what should be real, ripping out our souls as we gleefully smiled, inured to the amputation of feeling, draining us slowly as our very selves were left reeling.


and what of today, as we glide through aisles, trying on this or that face, being ever egged on to join the rat race, without which we are rendered impotent, as barren as the desert of hope, while we are still, perennially, expected and aspire to smile and to cope …




sapphire sky





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








Searching.





Searching,


in the debris of the past,

scraps of casually discarded emotion.


Searching,


in hastily trashed yesterdays,

an inkling of moments flung away.


Searching,


in heaps of rubbished words,

that tiresome sigh of defeated thought.


Searching,


in the layers of moulted skin

the wilting self that once was true.


Searching,


in the reflections between the ripples,

for the whispered pangs of roaring desire.


Searching,


in the blank eyes streaming endlessly,

an echo of the faintest sigh of new life.



Searching.





a cry as another year beckons.





where hatred flows like raw sewage, where intolerance festers in fungal minds, where every ugly stripe of prejudice is on proud display,


may we all stand up and be heard, may we all rise up and be counted, may we all shed our cloak of apathy, may we all cease to be active participants in this grotesque play.



where vicious poverty tramples human dignity, where gnawing hunger leeches humanity, where human beings have been cast out of their lands, of their houses,


may we rattle the corridors of power, may we fight for equitable change, may we scream our outrage, may we forge the bonds of solidarity, may our collective voice be hushed no more, may we shake each other so that humane ideals from slumber rouses.



where violence is rained down on people of a different colour, of a different religion and creed, of a different caste, of a different sexual persuasion, of women everywhere every night, where the shadows of pain grow ever longer,


may our lips not remain sewn shut, may we remain complicit by silence never again, may we know we are more, and being more, we are all the stronger. 



may we link arms across this pained world,


may we all see the banner of hope unfurled,



may we cease to look the other way,


may we strive for a more just day,



may we lose our petty differences, casting them into the sea,


may we reclaim our humanity, may we set our loving thoughts free,



may we always strive and struggle and battle for what is right,


may we never give in to despondency, may we not sink into the quicksand of feeling helpless, may we all arise and fight the good fight,



may we never forget the sacrifices of those who have passed, of those who have shed their blood, of those who made the supreme sacrifice so that we may today be here,


may we always honour their legacy, not in words and poems and songs, but to truly honour their lives and their scattered bones, by picking up their baton they so fiercely held, by raising their standard they so courageously held aloft, by getting our hands dirty as we rattle the 1% and their ostentatious thrones,



may we accept that the battles ahead may be long and hard, may we acknowledge that power never cedes, it’s metallic talons digging into our flesh so deep,


may we send them a message loud and clear, that nothing shall ever again dull our common resolve:


now.


today.


and in the tomorrows that yet to upon us creep,


may our message be clear:


we the people have awakened,


and we the people shall not be driven back to sleep.




all power to the people!



the struggles continue!



amandla!**

awethu!**

** – “Amandla – Awethumeans “Power to the People, and was a rallying slogan during the struggle against Apartheid.





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