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 … … …
running,
in flight,
bracing the currents,
thrashed against the cliffs,
of jagged fate,
broken-in, kneaded into acquiescence,
worn-down,
stretched-thin,
soon-to-be yesterdays trash,
dumped,
strewn in the muck,
filling landfills of destinys rubbish bin,
bashed by chaotic waves,
headed for,
primed,
course set,
for yet,
another controlled crash.
watching the building ablaze,
the smoke and flames,
live on tv,
hearing the accounts,
of people fleeing for their lives,
when slowly,
the televised footage split into two split-screens within screen,
or maybe it happened in an instant:
on the left-side – the building on fire, anchors and guests talking about how this could have happened etc.
and on the right-side – the viewers are informed that the new years eve dubai fireworks display will go ahead etc.
and then it happened,
the countdown began,
5 … 4 …
and by now the entire television screen showed a sailboat building burst into a fireworks extravaganza that may have lasted 25 minutes,
more or less,
while the building ablaze,
just over the bay,
burned away.
and the cheering was audible,
the gasps and oohs and aahs,
and I was dumbfounded.
and no one was saying a thing,
and I felt I had finally,
lost all sense,
i must be mad, i thought.
you are, a voice replied.
all because this did not make sense. at all.
normally suchlike razzmatazz pomp & extravaganza,
and people fleeing burning buildings,
hardly ever meet.
and now, they collided,
making it stark to mad me,
that just as the old saying goes,
the show must go on.
and,
furthermore,
perhaps more ominously,
the show will go on,
to put that magic sparkle into a million waiting eyes,
no matter who fries.
________________
pic courtesy: http://www.johncoulthart.com
on repetition: new years day …
the years have chased,
cajoled,
time has a-rambled & a-rolled,
just another year,
where loves’ wares,
love, the commodity,
and us, all of us,
mere commodities,
traded as futures,
hastily stitching gaping wounds, with superficially strong sutures,
add some smiles bought and sold,
dignity bartered,
amalgamated, merged, lost & battered,
thin skins moulting,
spawning breathing thicker skins,
just another year,
same dreams to be shattered,
no bleating hip-hip-hoorays,
just the ever-fixed smile,
bright teeth bared as hands morph into machetes, hacking,
gleefully as the beast slays,
and while some burn, the fireworks elicit oohs, many an aah,
with kafka in the shadows, shaking his head,
this is farce gone too far,
to dampen the collective hope,
not more crumbled platitudes,
meant only to soothe, to apply the balm, to help the other half cope,
with what,
just another year,
reborn, the umbilical cord cut,
just another year,
working, eating, buying, buying,
as we scamper ever on,
with our eyes sewn tightly shut
years ebb, flow,
tangoing the same old dance, rehashing the same tired show,
temporarily anaesthetised,
inured,
cured, from the accursed affliction,
buy, drink, eat, and buy some more,
as the machine grinds flesh and bone,
rendering hearts frigid as stone,
years like tides, slip away,
sweeping this beach of dreams,
common dreams, shared through the uBuntu of being human,
hope, for a less harsh world,
more food, less war,
education, not the burning of books,
treating each other as human,
shedding the cloak of indifference,
to revel,
all of us, the people,
bathed in the warm light of true freedom, real justice,
as bigotry, hatred, racism, misogyny etc etc etc in the corner cowers,
for we shall always,
always, be many, many more,
for tomorrow shall dawn,
and the future is ours …
on fate, destiny & futility: starstuff …
stringed, strung,
theoretically plausible,
infinite universes within a bubble,
floating in the space, between spaces,
where time, and days and kisses and tears and fears and smiles and anger and all of this and lots of that,
oh and faces,
all blurring into nothingness,
starstuff, is all,
agonisingly close, or chillingly far,
starstuff is all,
we ever were,
starstuff is all,
we still are …
______________
inspired by Dr. Carl Sagan
on compromise: half-measures.
galloping, striding, marching,
hand in hand, lovers in the sun,
sozzled, numb,
to hell with what is real,
what bleeds, who feeds,
its salivating, seducing, irresistible,
fun, fun, fun,
chasing fleeting pleasures,
momentary, vanishing between blinks of unseeing eyes,
tempus fugit,
as time flies,
paying obeisance,
to house & home,
the car, bar,
ameliorated apathy,
dousing guilt,
with the blade of excess buried deep,
embedded to the hilt,
filling our lives with half-measures,
skewered in the pan,
flashes,
of ashes,
not savouring the drop of dew, the nectar of life,
instead striding, marching,
galloping, on and ever on,
to empty, hollow pleasures,
this is life,
lived out, dumbed down,
in glitzy,
half-measures
scarred by gentle caresses,
ripped apart by tender kisses,
fractured within,
a ceaseless masqurade without,
when,
does the ache mend,
lose its sting,
soften the blows,
while destiny,
fate,
tomorrows not yet dawned,
shedding tears for pain unmourned,
battered blue,
and black,
always an arms reach away,
from my weathered backpack,
to venture, to plunge,
into the waters of chance,
where hopes dreams joys,
all dance,
a lifetime away,
yet embossed on the mindscape,
a fleeting moment,
vanishing,
an eternal nostalgic glance
on futility: my flaccid tongue
words scrawled, scribbled,
excised, living breathing feeling,
wrenched,
amputated,
inured,
words, scribbled scrawl,
bloated on self, bulbous grotesque ego,
urging,
cajoling,
purging,
contrived hysterics,
lofty idealism, crass,
authoritarian brass,
wooden, ablaze with
mock shock,
and awe,
thrashing around,
words, scribbled scrawled gibberish,
flaccid, as the tongue,
from which they were wrung.
tasting you,
breathing you,
feeling you,
exquisite,
bittersweet
touches,
undulating,
swaying in the jo’burg breeze,
for just knowing you,
infuses emotions of mirth,
of simple joys,
of peace …
cloaked, shrouded,
misted within silver clouds,
moonlight slips, slides,
cascades,
drizzles down,
like her soft hair,
her velveteen swirls,
twirls,
that caress my face,
like moonlight,
on an overcast jo’burg night
strumming moments
notes,
discordant, awash in today,
plucking strings, teasing chords,
strumming along,
tuneless …
my song 🎼
… strange are the ways of fate,
stranger still,
is my aching heart,
my thud-thudding heart,
’tis all yours,
through and through,
why, you may ask,
but,
i have not a clue,
but ’tis true,
i don’t know why,
i miss you …
when quivering lips meet
&
tongues
& whispers soothe each sigh
the ache of two vagabond souls yearning to share a few moments,
to share, to feel again,
memories and pain intermingled
seeking a peace so elusive to find …
‘it’s then
I must still my thundering heart, my love
&
close my eyes,
just hoping against reason,
that when I awake
you shall still be lying here beside me
and that you shall still
be mine
Scribbled Verse 