“first they came for the _____” ( Mr. Trump, fill in the blanks )
_______________
then they came for the. ______________
( fill in the blanks, Mr. Trump )
be careful,
the extremists appear to be on the ascendancy,
the brutal murderers of daesh and the neonazi drivel of trump,
so be careful: guard your mind,
never forget,
remember,
always,
always remember:
“first they came for the Communists …”*
* – Pastor Martin Niemoller
Pete's Banjo
Woody
fitting in,
acceptably hushed,
alienation photoshopped, airbrushed …
at home ?
not this rolling stone,
bruising my rattled self to the bone,
enveloped by walls,
as each evening falls,
shivering as desolate morning dawns,
painted smile,
shushing rising bile,
my fatigued soul yawns,
a being who fawns:
the perennial exile … … …
Banksy
vagabond verse.
running against slippery winds,
fragments of past lives,
tugging at the heels,
shedding tired breaths,
moulting yesterdays skin,
inflamed by passions,
raging,
swirling,
deep within,
gathering the shards,
cobwebbed,
mangled,
inside,
tattered embers simmering dim,
heartstrings plucked,
a-jingle & a-jangled,
while,
your presence sparks the tinder,
setting every fibre afire,
aching,
hungering,
yearning with silent desire,
for the ache felt,
when dreaming of your exquisite kiss,
is,
an ache akin to a state of bliss,
an ache enveloping mind,
body,
soul,
an aching hope,
infusing my being entire,
complete,
whole.
The Immigrants Void – Sculpture by Bruno Catalano
http://brunocatalano.com/sculpture-bronze2/sculpture-en-bronze-bruno-catalano.php?galerie=1
destiny
fate
somewhere
someplace
alfoat on honeydew petals
mere strands
filaments
years trickling through
fingertips
lost whispers
dreamed caresses
awake
alive …
smouldering
ablaze in the cauldron
of
destiny
fate
of convergent wisps
sprinkling kisses
on your
honeydew lips
Port of Call Redux aka Pretentious-ness-ness …
sailing between
sprinkled kisses
sipped
savoured
under swaying moonlight
bathed by whispering palms
on that talcum beach
that talcum-powder beach forever drenched by the rivers of my dreams
and
the open seas of parched memories
famished souls
soiled by desperation
hearing nothing
nothing at all
but the vultures ravenous call …
… so come on, dear friend, take my hand in yours ( metaphorically speaking if nothing else ) and let’s walk back to that talcum caressed beach of dreams
because
with you it is all
and without you
still
and
always
and
perhaps forever more
in some quiet corner
deep within the core of your heart
shall always be
deeply anchored
my very all
my final port of call
_________________
Port of Call
http://tinyurl.com/ochvfq9
left broken
adrift
anchorless on oceans
of twisted words
numb
in a maelstrom of half truths & lies
abandoned underneath shared skies …
… and now that the years have fled
and tears have been bled
and all that i have left
are my eyes
straining to see
you
fading slightly
yet still
the only constant
the only thing
i know to be true
SSRI’s and I…
… the sounds of thoughts clattering, my neurones sparking,
like Dylan said, my morning recedes jingling and a-jangling,
worn down by this leaden knot, tearing my insides out,
the cacophony drowned in a whisper, lost in a silent shout,
dreams and screams scratching the back of my dry throat,
caged in, liberation hovering like a mirage beyond the moat.
I claw my way, slowly, through a thicket of solitude,
feeling my emotions peeling, stung by unseen nettles,
crawling to an open field, to rest, beneath a sky ablaze with stars,
as my mind glides, brushing the soft grass as it peacefully settles …
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature’s soothing balm.
Digging deep, entrenched,
barricaded against love’s bayonet,
securing the heart,
impregnable, shielded,
|
|
but,
love breaches the lines.
|
|
The defences crumble,
walls of steel melt away,
shields are lowered,
minefields disappear,
|
|
as,
love overwhelms the night.
|
|
Alone now, desolate, exposed,
my embattled heart lies injured,
the fatal blow being dealt by you…
…in the trenches, in love.
…
Tomorrow is Ours.
…
Suffocating beneath the weight of historical fear,
asphyxiated by the legacy of traumatised yesteryear,
…
the festering wounds of enslavement still remain,
juggling euphemisms in a crisp sound-bitten refrain,
…
spewing out neo-liberal economic charades,
doling out charity in strips of plastic band-aids,
…
but,
…
tomorrow shall be ours,
…
casting away subservient mind-sets that shackle,
no longer the weakened prey of the insatiable jackal,
…
tomorrow shall be ours,
…
we shall reclaim our plundered mindspaces,
we shall shed our chains, leaving behind the traces,
…
of past injustice, of the hurt and pain of our ancestors’ sorrows,
…
we are here, now, alive with hope,
…
we shall rightfully claim our own tomorrows…
Distant African Nights.
1.
The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,
a cool breeze teasing your bare back,
streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,
as my hands stroked your hair,
kissing your soft mouth,
holding you, ever so tight.
2.
You whispered that you loved me, and I kept silent,
the rain fell, the shadows danced, the thunder rolled, the breeze teased your naked back,
you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,
the rain washed over our tender nights,
lightning and candlelight etching poems on your burnished skin,
yet a fear gnawed at me, deep within.
3.
We parted ways, and you could never forgive me, you said,
now, after numberless thunderstorms,
the rain that falls,
are the countless tears that I have shed.
4.
You are long gone, far away and happy, I pray,
yet the memories persist,
those precious moments shall never, ever trickle away,
and I wish you well, for loving me as you did,
it was I who was not worthy,
then,
it is I who is not worthy now,
for you were always true,
it was I who always, always,
never allowed myself,
to give myself, completely to you.
Then, Now…
Then –
Promises,
dreams,
hopes,
love.
Life. Alive,
breathing hopeful sighs.
Now –
Desolation,
regret,
guilt,
pain.
Alive. Living,
exhaling exhausted breaths.
Then. Now.
Scribbled Verse 