I am the Heartbeat of Africa …

I am the Heartbeat of Africa …

I am the heartbeat of Africa. The blood flowing through its veins, and I have seen much. I have witnessed the the pummelling of peoples under the jackboot of colonialism, the plunder of wealth, stripping bare the very veins I flow through. I have urged the collective to stand tall, amidst the horrors of history. It has not been easy, the tyranny of centuries has left scars, raw scabby festering sores, my thumping scarlet oozing out of myriad pores, rendering the great continent pained, hollow … but still, and yet, I course inside millions of souls, refusing to capitulate, thick with hopes for the day and the days after the day. I have placated the wounded, the multitudes forgotten, the bodies seeking respite from the loss, the anger, the deprivation of spirits undimmed by the splintered darkness of racial prejudice. I have seen so much, children torn from loving embraces, mothers holding on, as the world turns its face away, conveniently absolving itself of its crimes. I have felt the hardening of arteries, the will to fight on, despite the overwhelming odds.

yes, I am the blood of Africa. 

and I shall continue to flow, coaxing my people to rise again, to summon up the valiant spirits of the ancestors, to stand and to fight against the insidious doublespeak of tongues, silken tongues peddling instruments of death, shunning the divides that separate one from another, to rise and greet the fresh blazing African sun, each day, every day, until that day when the daily battles cease, when the battles are done. 

yes, I am the blood of Africa, and I shall flow ever on, sowing hope where desolation stalks the evenings, I am hope for tomorrows dawn, for despite and inspite of it all, the new day of peace, of renewed hope, must be, must be born …

dawn slides

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 it all behind

.

.

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 … … …

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.

repost: love, passion, music and all that jazz

Artwork from Google

love, passion, music and all that jazz …

The strings are tugged, the drumming feeds off the passion imbued,

soft notes caress each breath breathed,

the music within, so intricately weaved.

Our feelings are set alight by the crescendo that rises, the melodies of moments shared,

thud-thudding to the beat of our hearts, floating and coursing through our veins,

as symphonic passion flows through every note that strains.

Wind breezes into saxophones, fingers strum guitars, the jazz plays ever on, warming our souls, mending our fragmented hearts,

we kiss the blues away, aching inside, and with every lyrical turn, in the cauldron we dance as we burn,

inflamed by melodies hewn into our consciousness, softly stirring emotions that come alive,

as the music plays on, as passions bloom, blossom, and thrive.

How can we get through these parched days, these still nights,

without the tunes that reach for the heavens, soaring above our gnawing reality, picking us up from the cold ground, to embrace dizzying heights.

We would not still be here, if the music had stopped,

we would not still be here, through all these decades that have passed,

we would not still be here,

but here we are,

standing together, wrinkled fingers clasped,

still creaking along the grooves of vinyl infused hope,

we stand together, and we shall stand some more,

as we bask in the memories, of times gone by,

with the melodies of a life lived, and a life loved,

the music striking chords deep inside,

fusing our hearts as one, well braced for the struggles,

that may still lash us, shaking our ramparts with each incoming tide …

Artwork from Google

you are the physics of my world

from Google

you are the physics of my world …

1.

the random sparks of infinitesimal neurons,

the random chaos of the vast cosmic beyond,

the random tugs of quantum strings,

have somehow,

incredibly swirled,

bringing your completeness into the vacuum of my world.

2.

these apparently random machinations, of this universe of possibilities,

has defied all permutations of chance,

to coalesce for us,

now,
today,

as we share our brightly blazing celestial dance.

3.

words escape me, there is no explanation,

to describe the meeting of our twin souls,

there is no hypothesis that I am able to construct,

that fuels these passions, these desires, these feelings that skywards into the heavens erupt.

4.

these atoms and quarks and gluons, bind us together in the most unscientific way,

they exude feelings impossible to explain,

love, for instance,

and a love as deep and abiding and true as ours,

is impossible to understand, even if we tried, spending years and countless hours.

5.

now my love of felines brings me to schrödinger and his deadalive cat,

for unlike dear schrödinger I can say with utmost certainty, that in that box my love for you,

is alive, and ever so true.

6.

all the dark matter, that is postulated to roam the entirety of space,

cannot dim the light of the stellar blaze of our star of love,

our sun that radiates gloriously, from the deepest recesses of our heart, from our magnetically interlinked place.

7.

all the talk of black holes not allowing light to flee,

comes not closer to the raging cauldron of our shared togetherness,

as we lay blanketed by the heavens above that envelope you, and that cloak me.

8.

the distance of light years are bridged so effortlessly, so easily traversed between you and I,

merging our love, our own supernova lighting the unfolding years we have yet to face,

roaring like a furnace, hewn into the very fabric of our innerspace …

from Google

😀 re-repost: 🙊 yikes – this is just too schmaltzy 😊

Artwork from Google

yikes – this is just too schmaltzy …

The essence of our love rests not just in moonlight kisses, nor in dusky sensual caresses.

Our love, that hugs us both, shielding us from life’s travails,

steadies our shared ship on stormy waters, bolstering our sails.

This love we share with each other, through gentle words and tender acts,

may never be quantified, in infinite scribbles, nor in countless wordy tracts.

The core of our love, ablaze, forged in that passionate furnace into one,

shines brighter within us, far brighter than the midday sun.

The essence of our love, infusing our days, and weaving exquisite dreams in our nights of sleep,

that essence,

that precious nectar, shall nourish us forever more,

as it consumes us, drenching us both, right into our beings so deep …

Artwork from Google

re-repost 😆: talkin’ love’s hues unblues

Artwork from Google

talkin’ love’s hues unblues …

Scarlet roses infused in your breath, marmalade kisses passionate and sweet,

marshmallow clouds our embracing canopy, your ebony hair my silken sheet,

showering honey-dipped butterfly kisses, your sensuous form showering me with a nectar, ever so delicious as our bodies meet.

Turquoise skies beckon us, as we lay together on the cooling forest green,

the emerald grasses a carpet of embroidered emotions, felt deeply within the crevasses of our hearts, remaining unseen,

as a bronze dusk etches the heavens above, mingling with the crystal waters of our tender shared stream.

We soak in the pallette of colours all around us, our dawns morphing from dark night into hopeful pastel hues,

our days as soft as my velveteen fingertips, gliding over your form, as we lay knotted together, hugging our love which we have promised we will never lose,

and as we slip away into dreams of passionate embossed sketches,

we know,

at long last,

that we have banished the detritus of yesteryear’s blues …

Artwork from Google

repost: LOVE: Access Denied

Artwork from Google 🙊

LOVE: Access Denied.

Love, snarled on the information superhighway,

a few dashed off emails,
a few hastily typed out instant messages,

a shared meme,
a forwarded self-help quote –

a couple of sentences here and there,

unlike real conversations, infused with true love and with thoughtful care.

I am guilty – mea culpa – no two ways about my falling for the same,

where a few fingerstips spell out words of hasty ‘I love yous’,

where love feels like a to-and-fro tennis game.

–

mwaahs …

💜 …

gonna b l8 …

more mwaahs …

–

Now I know I’m an old dude from back in the day,

when we committed pen to paper whenever we had a something to say,

with rose petals between the pages of a handwritten letter,

and as all oldies look back,

that seemed so much more sensual, so much more personal,

with many drafts discarded, many ink stains on my fingertips,

much ‘Parker Royal Blue’ spilled,

many ‘HB’ pencils with blunted tips.

Now don’t castigate me for not being ‘down’ with the times,

for I find word-processers just brilliant,

with that ‘del’ button manna from heaven,

and ‘copy and paste’ just too fine,

especially nowadays where I fail to realise how quickly disappears,

all my time.

Yes, I am just an oldie, with selective amnesia and hazy wistful thoughts,

of a time when I was younger,

awaiting my beloved’s letter with palpable hunger,

yes, I am just an oldie yearning for what for me was a simpler time, a less rushed world,

when I spent hours, and hours more,

on how my “t’s” on blank parchment,

danced and swirled …

Artwork from Google 🙊

re-re-repost 😀: you found me

Artwork from Google

you found me …

Sidestepping thorny shards on the pathways of my life,

rambling between alleyways of splintered glass,

slipping in the deep night of lonely despair,

shattering this soul,

this heart of mine, wanting to only be part of a whole.

You found me, torn on the cold frigid ground, you picked me up when fragments of hope were nowhere to be found,

your gentle love embraced me, as we stood shoulder to shoulder,

your warmth an exquisite cocoon, enveloping me, your caresses unshackling the knots, setting me free.

We loved each other with a passion unrestrained, you bathed me in the cool waters of a renewed life, you healed the wounds cleaved by that old lonesome knife,

our famished hearts feasted on a shared love, discarding the veneer of sight, our togetherness felt deep within our beings, unfettered from the chains that once suffocated us so tight.

Yes, you found me, you picked me up when all hope had fled, you loved me when I lay famished, naked, as my very sense of self I had shed.

Yes, you raised me, you embraced me as only the truest love can, you steered me away from the maelstrom, as we together lay in each others arms, beneath our solitary palm tree, on the soft gentle sand,

Yes, you saved me, you opened my eyes to behold the new dawn’s light, and we held each other with all of our love’s might.

Today, decades down the path, we still revisit our solitary palm, basking in its shade, your head resting on my chest, on our beach of talcum sand,

yes, today, decades down the path, we still walk together, shoulder to shoulder,

into the sunset,

hand in hand …

Artwork from Google

life, injustice, and a clean shirt

Artwork by Banksy

life, injustice, and a clean 

shirt …

we are entangled in the bog, as we sweat, as we slog.

the crumbs we receive, with fanfare do deceive.

the 1% whip up emotions of hate, as they remain buffered in their ostentatious state.

we the people are confined to sweatshops, grinding away, for 18 hours a day.

they dock our pay if we dare fall ill, sewing our tongues shut so we may not talk, as long as their designer labels get paraded on the catwalk.

we have been subjected to this and we may never leave, as our mothers and fathers before us, into whom the talons of greed did gnaw and cleave.

they stoke our passions, of race, gender, religion, to whip up hate, blinding us so we may not see that we all share the same fate.

we are stuffed into offices, while they withhold our pay, while they strangle us until we bleed, our families discarded, for who are we to breathe and to feed.

we are expected to endure this hell, of indignity, of injustice, of tattered souls, of inexpressible hurt,

as we are repeatedly kicked down into the dirt.

but the news tells us that all is well,

the stock-markets are rallying,

the market robust as their coffers continue to swell,

as their billboards entice us with that haute couture pair of jeans, that impossibly expensive skirt,

just so that we clock in,

day in and decade out,

in a crisp clean shirt …

Artwork from Google

re-reposting this 🙊😀: what is love for me?

Artwork from Google

what is love for me?

Love is your head laying on my chest, beneath a swaying palm, love is the solace we offer each as a soothing healing balm.

Love is not swallowing what society wishes to us feed, love is wanting each other and not the illusions of material greed.

Love is knowing that the skin will age and wrinkle, love is knowing that the celestial star of togetherness will never cease to twinkle.

Love is knowing there exists no pristine hearts or souls, for we are all so very far from commercialised perfection, love is acknowledging that always, and in our moments of quiet reflection.

Love is truly and deeply loving each other, warts and all, love is kneeling down to lift each other up whenever we slip, whenever we fall.

Love is never thrusting ones beliefs unto each other, love is appreciating and embracing the differences between one another.

Love is not being constrained by race, religion, nationality, caste or tribe, love is knowing we all bleed red, and from a common fountain we all do life’ waters imbibe.

Love is honestly being content with what we have to share, love is never allowing the rat-race to us ensnare.

Love is not merely oaths taken, vows spoken, love is living and tending for each other when one of us feels lost and if one of us is torn, or broken.

Love is so much more than kisses and making love, though that is always oh-so good, love is nourishing each other with the truest emotions, the bounty of soul-food.

Love is having differences of opinion, of engaging in robust debate, love is not just agreeing with everything we say, love is not living in that sterile state.

Love is taking a stand, in this iniquitous world, love is speaking truth to power, love is never ever merely accepting it all, love is not us shielding ourselves so that in inured inaction we cower.

Love is your head laying on my chest, beneath a swaying palm, love is the solace we offer each as a soothing healing balm …

Artwork from Google

The Rivers of a Life

Art from Google

The Rivers of a Life …

Bracing for the rapids ahead, clutching onto filaments where salty tears sting the places we have bled.

Hold on!

The rapids will stutter to a meandering stream, our brittle souls heaving sighs of relief as a glimpse of hope waltzes on a sunbeam.

Hold on tight!

The stream opens itself up, slipping into the wide waters of the river at peace, soothing our beings, the stabbing pain now beginning to cease.

Let go!

The mouth of the river yawns as it approaches the endless expanse of the sea, hushing us, stilled by knowing we are but an infinitesimal part of what we thought we could be.

Free at last!

beyond us the unseen future, right now we soak in the truths of the present,

behind us we leave the detritus of the past.

Artwork from Google

alone, together

Baobab Tree artwork from Google

alone, together …

The rays of the summer sun peek between the canopy of green above,

we walk hand in hand through the thicket searching for our sensual place of love,

a small pond and a gentle waterfall comes into view,

as we abandon all shrouds and wade into the soothing waters of blue.

Our bodies intertwine, flesh on bare flesh,

skin against skin, light years away from the city’s raucous din,

as we share light kisses, enmeshed in each others arms so close, so very tight,

while we float in the lyrical waters, eyes closed as all we need are tender caresses so exquisitely light.

We taste each other, sipping the nectar of passion with a desire that we need no longer restrain,

with the orchestral sounds of the jungle, swirling in their symphonic refrain,

our lips meet, we feel the thud-thudding of our hearts merging,

in harmony with the sublime feelings so wildly surging.

We whisper odes, we imbibe our hungering need,

as the meandering waters envelope us in their calming sheath,

we tenderly become one, restraining for now our insatiable greed,

and as our bodies writhe, we feel our shuddering deep inside, a quivering dewy leaf.

The sun slowly dips and swoons, we wish we could share these precious moments for many more moons,

but alas, the here and now calls out, drawing us out of this magical reverie,

as we find each other back amidst the cacophony of real life,

where we pine,

where we ache,

where we wish only,

to be together,

free …

Artwork from Google

“True Detective” Season 3 has arrived – Here are 3 old scribbles from Season 1

True Detective Season 1

( for ‘True Detective’ Season 1 fans )

for rust & marty …

you see there may come a time when all of what we yearn and ache and pine and lie and cheat and kill and maim and hurt to attain may turn out to be as worthless as the lives we hurt and took and raped and pillaged and tortured and slapped and abused and molested and plundered and then we shall be seen for that what we all essentially are:

sentient meat. no more. no less.

               ________________

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 …

and …

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 … 

        __________

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

True Detective Season One

The truth of our Love

Artwork from Google

The truth of our Love …

1.

True love rests upon countless whispering leaves,

one by one falling to the ground,

the truest love is carried on dandelion seeds,

fluttering within hearts here, there, and all around. 

True love that settles and binds two souls,

intertwines emotions, with a comforting tenderness so rare,

as we trudge on, having long shed the expectations of togetherness,

in a cold callous world, in this grinder where flimsy connections flicker past as we lay our souls bare.

True love afloat on the breeze found me, when your soft caresses tremulously wafted into my life,

as you fanned the dying embers into a furnace, gently warming my entire world,

for when we walked hand in hand, on the beaches of our loves’ distilled truths,

a kaleidoscope of feelings were within us both, gloriously unfurled.

2.

We have shared a lifetime of embroidered passions, with gentle flourishes and scribbled verse,

we have held each other, in moments of desire, soaring into the boundless open sky,

we have stood shoulder to shoulder, as the tides of pain battered us, as the ache of the twisting talons of fate gnawed us, almost apart at our very edges,

we have weathered the howling winds of adversity, as one, we have nurtured the flame of our bond, in those bleak moments when it threatened to die,

yes, our love has cocooned us together, where words seem unnecessary, for when true love finds you,

it needs no oaths, no promises, no dotted lines to sign, no rehearsed, mumbled pledges …

Artwork from Google

We are one Race = Human

Artwork from Google

We are one Race = Human …

1.

The bigots on all sides try to inflame our petty egos,

to inflate our hollow pride,

bigots on all sides try to abuse our beliefs,

so blinded by our puffed-up arrogance –

“my country right or wrong”,

“my religion and never yours”,

“the colour of my skin and not yours”.

Politicians on all sides try to divide us,

their narrow ambitions riding on our emotions,

trying to pollute all that can, if unquestioningly followed, tear us apart:

nationality,
language,
religion,
gender,
tribe,
race,
sect,

drumming up fear, always fear,

of my fear of you,
of your fear of them,
of our fear of them all.

Their hypocrisy is stark,
as jarring as a rabid dog’s wailing bark,

their intentions far from noble,

their hope is to keep us all, shivering with trepidation,

in the dungeon of racist,
nationalistic,
sectarian,
religious,
casteist,

notions of superiority,

as we throw punches,
as we hurl abuse,

at each other in this purposely infected dark.

The clergy on all sides as well, want us huddled in fear in the deep suffocating well,

of carefully crafted sectarian hate, of artificial religious walls,

of dogma and of semantics, of only picking each other up,

if they are one of “us”,

but never if one of “them” slips,

and falls.

We have danced to these toxic tunes for far too long,

we have served their diseased interests for ages,

dictating who can belong,

allowing the blood in our veins,

to be boiled as it ceases to flow,

and simply rages.

The monsters of Capital and of greed,

have kept us all in line, shackled by the fictitious belief,

that trickle down wealth will bring us all some relief,

while amassing fortunes and sending the young to war,

for their invasions of plunder, of opening up new markets,

even as the gravely wounded soldier knocks on death’s door.

2.

No more!

The future is ours and it will be built with our bare hands, though not as before,

because we stand today as one race,

the human race,

we stand together today,

and their batons and bullets we are prepared to face!

No more!

The times ahead are ours, and the furnace of meaningful change burns bright in our collective core,

for we stand today as one race,

the human race,

we stand together today,

to banish the old and build a new world in its place!

No more!

The years ahead shall be filled with trials and tribulations, but we will let the light shine as we open every locked door,

for we stand today as one race,

the human race,

we stand together today,

and we shall reclaim our commons, our wide open shared space!

No more!

Tomorrow the healing will begin, of countless a festering sore,

for we stand today as one race,

the human race.

We stand together today,

we stand firm and we stand tall,

firm in our convictions that we will always lend our hands to all,

to never again, to never let, another human being break down and fall …

Artwork from Google

H O P E – a new year

from google

H O P E – a new year …

May we be gentler, softer and generous in spirit,

may we raise our voices against injustice whenever and wherever we see it,

may we treasure the love of family and of friends,

may we not be suckered into the million and one new trends,

may we speak truth to power in this world that is veering to the ominous right,

may we hold on to our basic humane principles strong and tight,

may we embrace the other without being bombarded by politicians’ peddling fear,

may we realise that all races and religions and genders belong equally on this earth so dear,

may we struggle for mother earth and may we heed her cries,

may we realise that without her everything dies,

may we continue to stand and fight for gender-rights and equality and justice and peace and hope and dignity for all,

may we be more willing to lend a hand to those who slip and fall.

May we finally realise that all the blood that has been callously shed –

is of one colour,

for we all bleed red …

from google

keeping it real: a happy new year?

a happy new year?

so it’s that time of the year again, as we all drink to numb the pain, lost in a haze of intoxicated numbness, we try and hope that the year ahead will bring something different, something better, some peace of mind and peace on earth, while all the changes is passing of yet another year, leaving us bamboozled and at times quaking with fear – fear at all that may be in store for us, fear of being the last once again to board the bus, fear that tears are the soul, as we booze it up to just feel whole, thinking and believing that as the calender and the clock turn, the heartbreak and ache may cease to our beings burn, scalding us as we crawl around this world we each have carved out for ourselves, the callousness of us for us and they for themselves, while all along we clutch onto that sliver of hope that tomorrow will be a whole new day, without the angst and mortgage and bills, hoping that the year ahead will pour peace within until our lives it fills, oh but what can I say about myself, tattered and sweating it out on a sea swept island, alone as most of us do feel, even as we on our knees pray and exhort as we kneel, begging the powers up on high, to bless us with love and mercy and not being made to work to the bone, as our fellow humans walk stiffly around us, unfeeling as stone.

tonight as I stare at the clock of time, churning out more and more depressive and disjointed rhyme, I still hope though hope has abandoned me so many new years past, that the reverie of the countdown never seems to even after a minute after midnight last, while I sink deeper into the quicksand of fate, torn and battered and always knowing I’ll just be that little bit late, but why am I spewing these sad words to you, my friends? perhaps to find kindred spirits who feel as I do, perhaps to realise that I may not be so alone, hoping that not all of us are hardened as stone, praying that we can start afresh this coming year – hope and hoping and beseeching the gods above – to bless us with simple love. 

love, that elusive feeling that binds two souls together as one, love that renders us not singular creatures, love that we can feel and hold and touch and kiss, the love that we all crave and so very much miss,

but alas I have seen many a new year come and go, so I kind of maybe just a little bit know, that tomorrow will be just another day,

and tomorrow I will still be unable to keep this deep ache at bay 

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.

2019 – is there hope?

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

​

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

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 + “Migrant Feet” – A poem by Afzal Moolla

“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

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 #5

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 #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

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 …

In your eyes #2

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

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 … … 

marmalade roses

​

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 Ravings

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

a cry as another year beckons

​

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.

whispers

whispers, seeking respite,

drifting away,

ablaze on a canvas of breathtaking smiles,

bidding adieu,

to the endless,

treacherous, manic miles,

strapped in,

closeted,

in the constant gurgling of the crowd,

cushioned,

buffering,

inuring the conscience,

far too placatory,

far less backbone,

while ego huffs and buffs,

loud brash and pompously proud,

so,

even though the open skies may be boundless,

clearly cloudless,

still,

the stubborn loyalty to gravity,

rooted, terra-firma,

choosing to weather the chaos of elemental fury,

accepting of the scars,

the blood not yet spilled,

the long cold humid icicle stormy battles of which there shall be more,

and that shall be fought,

reigniting a hope,

nourished, nurtured,

on the precipice of being realised,

not merely peripherally,

exalted, inflamed,

thud-thudding,

within,

my hearts core …

turquoise turret

turquoise turret … … …

bubblegum clouds drizzle cotton-candy floss, blurring my view,

liquorice asphalt twists, a slow burn, igniting memories of she, ashenly charred, akin to her tresses auburn,

as i peer from atop my turquoise turret, all that lies between i and she,

are walls well secured,

surreptitious defences obscured …

the owl

the owl …

perched atop a tree stump,

it watches.

it sees.

seeing through ancient eyes,

it watches.

it sees.

shuffling its feathers,

it watches.

it sees.

its free skies stolen, its branches broken,

leaving just stumps to sit on,

having seen too much.

Masks

Masks …

Fingers,

clawing at my face,

slipping beneath the facade,

tugging, tearing, flailing,

stripping off the veneer,

exposing the fragmented decay,

cloaked,

under this mask I wear today.

Hands,

groping for another layer,

embroidered on my thin skin,

peeling, rotting, searing,

shaving away the truths,

entwined in a jagged kiss,

revealing,

the vacuum of an emotional abyss.

Fleeing,

from myself yet again,

bound for nothingness,

desolate, cold, empty,

lost on barren pathways,

bruising my heart as I tread,

shuddering,

at the horrors that lie ahead …

on saying farewell

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 …

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

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 ….

her breath, a tender murmur

awaiting her breathy murmur,

a voice lost in gnarled memories,

of less desolate nights.

awaiting her dusky whisper,

adrift on the breeze

of time,

thawing gnawing gloom.

awaiting her lucid memory,

surfacing, filling voids,

the crevasses of years passed,

stilling cacophony of banal din.

awaiting her deep kiss, when our souls fused into one,

for in all this world, 

it is that kiss,

that i most miss

our fingers

 

… our fingers,

entwined,

walking away,

from the din of the day,

embracing the solitude of night,

with you in my arms,

dreams ablaze,

soaring into effervescent flight,

touching you, feeling you,

tasting you, consumed,

raging desire,

thrashed against the cliffs,

of pitiless fate,

in-between the engulfing waves,

gulping for a breathful of you,

all of you,

irresistibly true …

desire, trepidation, and hunger

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.

Cricket, The Beatles, and You

Cricket, The Beatles, and You …

I remember those scorching summer days, on the bus home from school,

as exhausted as I was, when I walked past you, I tried to look so cool.

You sat on the steps to your block of flats, engrossed in your book,

hardly noticing me at all, while my heart thud-thudded and my legs like jelly shook.

I remember every night as I lay in bed awaiting sleep,

you swirled in my mind, your silence a well which was so unfathomable, so very deep.

The sweaty days of summer didn’t deter us at all, flinging our school bags and racing to the park,

cricket bat in hand and thoughts of you reading you book, simmering within me, an undousable spark.

The friends were always waiting, setting up the cricket field, stumps in the ground,

while I took my position as fielder on the boundary, to keep stealing glances at you as the park erupted into cricket’s familiar sound,

the crack of leather on bat, the ball racing for a four,

always trying to loft a six, for the ball to come to a rest at the steps of your door.

My friend loved your cousin across the street, and I loved you dearly as teenagers do, so we hatched plans to speak, him to your cousin, and I to you.

After the cricket and when most friends drifted away, my best friend and I sat underneath our tree,

strategically chosen so that he may catch a glimpse of your cousin, and I of thee.

We sang Beatles’ songs until we were hoarse,

belting out ‘All my Loving’ repeatedly of course.

My friend and I sat under that tree for years, our love an unrequited ache,

as we whistled ‘Careless Whispers’ meant just for your sake.

We often day dreamed of futures of love and joy,

while the hearts in our chests thud-thudded on, the simple love of a besotted boy.

Well the years passed as they always do,

I still managed to never say a word to you,

my friend as well remained silent as a church mouse,

as time took its toll, and as we drifted away to other cities, moving so many a house.

We often reminisce about those carefree days, when life was so much more innocent, when cricket and you consumed my world,

while through the years the ravages of time have dimmed that spirit, as the reality of true life before us unfurled.

So it was a thrilling moment for my friend and I, as we arranged to meet,

all grown up now, but back in the old neighbourhood, the first to arrive would sit under our tree on our old street.

We met at last, our bellies a bit heavier now, our hair greying with age,

as we sat down beneath our tree, just the two of us, back on our centre stage.

We sang old Beatles’ songs and we whistled ‘Careless Whispers’, thinking about all that could have been,

of how life tamed our wild hearts, of how nothing resembled the nostalgic shades through which we had those olden days seen.

We talked and laughed as evening crawled by, our hearts heavy with emotions of days gone by,

even as we bid our farewells, and promised to keep in touch, we hugged as felt time fly.

Yet as I walked passed those steps where you used to decades ago sit, engrossed in your book,

I must admit, my heart thud-thudded, and my feet like jelly, once again, shook.

all images from google

freeversing the blues

freeversing the blues …

tears trickle down far too many a cheek,

while bigotry and hate like raw sewage reek,

down these cellophane faces in plastic towns,

while hope in the well of misery drowns.

the fractured spirits never seem to mend,

even when swallowing the latest trend,

gagging at the emptiness of last week’s buys,

desperately polishing facades while the barren heart cries.

we crawl as we trawl the roads for joy,

spitting yesterdays away like some overused toy,

fleeting moments never savoured whatever the ploy,

we become the enemies we seek to destroy.

why do we slam the doors shut on faces hungry and needy,

don’t we already have it all for us to be so callously greedy,

while we suck the blood and drink the tears of the ones we chase away,

condemning them to ghettoes in which they absolutely must stay.

when will we excise the demons on which apathy feeds,

will we ever kill off sweatshops serving our wants and not our needs,

will we ever stop putting guns in children’s hands,

will we perpetuate the lie of where the tomahawk missile really lands.

what grotesque metamorphosis have we been subjected to,

where we whistle down corridors oblivious, blinded to all that is true,

throttling the many for the benefit of the few,

all the while supping on heaving tables as if we don’t have a clue.

will we continue to feign ignorance of marital, partner, and child sexual abuse,

discarding each fractured soul as if they were stale news,

blindly turning our heads and thusly perpetuating male hetero-patriarchy,

keeping the blinkers on, while banishing the sordid truth we pretend not to see.

when will people of colour all around the world be seen, as human beings and not merely chattel,

as people, as a part of humanity, and not as some half-bred form of vassal,

to be used and discarded like stale garbage that needs to be trashed,

while on single malt whisky we gleefully get smashed …

… and when will all the world share in the bounties of this earth,

so that we may truly bring a more equitable, a more fair, a more just world to birth …

may soft petals caress you …

“Petals of love” by Marisa R Ng – Artwork from Google

may soft petals caress your being …

… may gentle shoulders share your burdens.

may warm sunshine reach the innermost recesses of your thud-thudding heart

may these words

offer

solace

comfort

when hope

seems vacant

an empty space

hollow

cold

yet safe

in moments like those

is when

i

hope

you

know

there’s always the promise of a less harsh tomorrow …

“Petite Petals V” by Konstantin Savchenko – Artwork from Google

desolation in love

desolation in love.

these empty seances, this void of nothingness,

are we in love?

these hollow emotions, this vacuum of feelings,

are we lost?

lost in the spaces where emptiness thrives,

lost in the crannies where desolation lies,

lost in the alleyways where barren souls stagger,

lost in the moments where numbness lives,

lost amongst it all,

lost in everything,

except being lost in love …

the rose and the dew

the rose and the dew

soothing dew of the dawn, teases the rose in the mist of new morn,

nourishing the rose, encased in a dewy sheath, drops of soothing dew tease tendrils of each leaf,

soothing flowers, the dew banishes the night, in soft hues of exquisite early light:

you are the dew to my solitary leaf, seducing my soul with loving belief,

and I, I revel in the balm of your solace, shunning the pain of this world, with welcome relief … … …

The traveller and the Baobab

The Traveller and the Baobab Tree …

1.

A summer breeze,

drifts down lonesome pathways and byways and alleyways,

touching worlds,

torn apart.

The breeze engulfs,

a pristine sky of blue,

while,

scattering the murmuring clouds,

that blanket the blazing African heavens,

in swirls and immaculate shrouds.

2.

A passing shower,

of gentle misty rain,

settles,

on freshly scented-earth.

It soothes,

it caresses,

the exhausted thoughts,

of,

a weary traveller,

who sits,

alone, all alone,

under a Baobab tree.

3.

The traveller walks alone,

at peace with the fragrant soil,

collecting memories of smiles embraced along the way.

4.

Finally, the wandering soul,

seeks rest,

finding peace at last,

yet,

knowing its price,

is to let go –

each memory,

and every smile,

that once burned true,

but now,

awaits release,

from the ache of the lingering past.