Tag Archive: hopeful poetry


the fog of war

the fog of war …

when does this ache cease
where does this path lead

if not
deep

into the quagmire
of
no-mans land

alone lonely
wishing it were
the nightmares
once so real

now all too true
as i lay
bogged down

stagnant entrenched
inert
yielding not an inch

yet still
still

not a moment passes
and
hardly a second fractions

till

thoughts of you invade my being

pummeling through me

a dazzling light
blinding ablaze

breathing fire

igniting
raw real
famished

desire to breathe

again
once more

in
my sleepless dreams

wounded
shrapnelled torn

forever
slipping into the blur

yet still
still

“its alright”

yet still
still

its your voice
that

through the fog

i hear

                … a faint
                      murmur

June 16th 2015
South Africa

1.

the blood of the valiant flowed,

absorbed by our famished soil,

our battered pained earth,

moistened by beads of collective sweat,

the endless toil,

where the valiant rest.

2.

or do they?

do the valiant rest
beneath our African skies?

do the valiant rest?

no.

they do not rest.

they recoil.

this is not what they fought for.

we’ve betrayed them.

we’ve betrayed the core …

hopeful thoughts

(also known as ‘pompous thoughts’)

deafening
howls of hate
may
yet
be

quelled

simply
by

knowing
believing
fairly
justly

collectively

that
you

me

him

she

her

they

us

yes us
may still

share
a
kinder
gentler fate

but only if
i

you

her

they

him

us
yes us

begin
anew

and then

when peace is what we all shall wage

we may then

and only then

begin to scribble afresh

new
dreams
aspirations
hopes

collectively

on

a

new
fresh page.

talkin’ double-standerds blues

i am bewildered,

the hypocrisy wrapped up and glistening,

plastic foil skin deep,

disregardin’ the ‘others’,

yet we feel pain,

&

yes we weep,

for ‘our own’,

cos’ ‘our’ pain is true,

and,

‘they’ after all,

are savages,

&

ingrates too,

they bite the very paws of those who kindly let them out of the zoo,

so don’t stand there so smug & fuelled by righteous passion,

’cause you and i know that soon we’ll be last decades’ spent fashion,

i don’t know if you’re catching my drift,

or am i being simple,

nuanced subtleties being in short-shrift,

i don’t even know if that sentence makes any sense,

or any of the yakkitty yak yak i scribble,

but i swear i can feel it,

machete-like in my bones,

my own hypocrisy slithering within,

as i you him her we she he & coming back to i again,

wrapping ourselves in that awful plastic foil,

skin-deep,

all as we drizzle lemonsalt on long open wounds,

rubbing some depleted uranium in there so it really stings,

while we shop till we drop,

&

while we pray for the glorious bounties the next shopping-mall brings

ps: rest in peace, empathy & compassion

peace | love | uBuntu

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