momentary slides,
of lifes’ exquisite times,
at times,
are dusted, burnished,
shedding the weight, baggage,
of random strings,
at once,
flinging me opposite you,
in a dream i relished,
not long ago,
so know this, if nothing else,
those moments within me reside,
today, now,
as timely as the coming in of each dawns tide … …
.
.
leaving the din of this city far behind,
away from the strangling grind.
she asked me “what are you hoping to find?”,
“you”, ” i said,
“if you don’t mind” …
.
.
love concedes … … …
love concedes, through bitter travails,
love recedes, into closeted wardrobes,
love exhausts, lover and loved alike,
but,
love endures, through the years,
traversing valleys of tears,
dispelling untruths,
exiling paralysing fears.
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 …
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
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 #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 …
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 …
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 – Awethu” means “Power to the People, and was a rallying slogan during the struggle against Apartheid.
on saying farewell
tender words don’t sting, gentle words hardly stab, or jab,
you and i have walked the paths, together, sharing each other, the magic and the drab,
now though the time may have come to part, i respect you, for you have always been true, a woman of substance, through and through,
so as we weave and traverse the alleyways of life, looking perhaps for a fresh start,
let us be gentle, kind, tender, to each other, before we depart,
leaving behind memories that don’t tear, feelings that won’t scar,
memories of moments spent together, between the tears and smiles,
know this, i shall always carry within me, a part of you, however near or far ….
dreams.
simple dreams of us, not of riches, gaudy and plush,
dreams of the exquisite tingle of our lips brushing – of being swept away, imbibing that intoxicating rush –
dreams of soaking up our shared copper sun,
your silky hair bathing my face,
through whispering rivulets of streams, our haven, our secret place –
dreams of souls knit together, of yours, and of mine,
extricated from the numbness of this plastic pantomime –
dreams afloat on streams, on the ripples of our murmuring desire,
alive, inflamed,
forged in our cauldron of love, sensuous, fiery, never tamed –
simple dreams
sometime,
someplace …
your back to me, feeling my warm breath on your neck,
i part your luscious hair,
i kiss your neck without any care,
my fingers clasped with yours, you smell like parched earth after a rainshower, intoxicating, wild,
as i nibble your ear lobes, whispering sweet nothings in your ear,
feeling the desire rise, after many a year, we have at long last found ourselves together, here,
my mouth hungers for yours, our unleashed passion like a furnace roars,
i turn you around, my lips against yours, for this for me, is sacred ground,
our hands explore each other’s fiery bodies, after all these decades in between,
our tongues find each other, greedy, thirsty, lingering as i nibble your lower lip,
for we had fallen so long ago, there is not a care in the world if further we let slip,
soon we find ourselves together, entwined as one,
skin on skin,
flesh on flesh,
sweaty longing kept under wraps for far too long,
we give in to each other, our bodies one, our need for each other far too strong,
we sprinkle kisses on each other,
i lap and lick, my tongue swirling,
leaving you breathless, your pleasure peaking,
we ride the waves of sensations long pent-up,
we crest the waves of sensual release,
as your head lays on my chest, my fingers running through your hair,
finally,
we have surrendered to each other,
free, and without a care ….
desire, trepidation, and hunger …
sprinkling cinnamon caresses, scribbling odes,
etching my words on your bare back,
desire inflames, engulfs flesh and blood and bone,
dispelling all trepidation,
the sin of hungering,
in a sweltering furnace of longing,
scribbling odes,
fingers meandering across your body,
desire, trepidation, and hunger,
fleeting, momentary,
yet abiding, infused,
relentless,
welcome.
my wishes are simple,
desires few,
gazing upon a leaf,
nourished by dew.
my wishes are simple,
dreams hardly grand,
hearing birdsong in the desert,
together, hand in hand.
my wishes are simple,
my heart calm,
resting with you ‘neath the palm,
years rattling bones,
wrinkling skin,
greying our hair,
ever so thin.
my wishes are simple,
walking in the rain,
leaning on each other,
through life’s joy, pain … … …
Scribbled Verse 
You must be logged in to post a comment.