HEAL THE WORLD

Picture courtesy www.all-creatures.org


It was dark,
It was half past twelve,
A man strolled casually
Across the sky and picked
The stars one after the other
Out of the sky.
When I bothered ask him why,
He replied,
If I don’t,
Another will.
Man has no shame,
Greed has no shame
It is insatiable and unforgiving,
Do I look ashamed?
He then smiled and walked away.

A FEW GOOD MEN

Picture courtesy www.happyworker.com


The ripe smell of
Poverty hangs thick
In the air.


Sweat and tears embrace
Walls like houseflies
On a market stall.


Men in suits
Parade halls
On cell phones,
Telling time off their
Fancy wrist watches.

SONG OF THE PALM-WINE TAPPER

Picture courtesy www.travel.seedman.com


Head high up in
The clouds,
Only birds and
The sun dare look
Upon him from above.


Incessant blows
To the base
Thwack!! Thwack!!
In no time,
The giant lies at the naked
Feet of the all conquering one.


He pierces his side
Coaxing forth a white ooze
A cunning elixir
In watery fragments,
That which beguiles and
Ensnares the very essence of men.


Thwack!! Thwack!!
Gives birth to palm-wine,
The crafty swill
Which calls out to the
Wise and foolish alike.


Thwack!! Thwack!!
Goes the palm-wine
Tapper’s song in the depths
Of the dwellings of palm trees.

ADIEU

Picture courtesy www.texanproud.com


A voice stills
Dust grows where
Footsteps once roamed.


Goodbyes and farewells
In the company of
Anguish tossed and turned.


Leaves
Vegetation
Marble and concrete,
Vague reminders of
What once was.

SECRETS AND BROKEN GLASS

Picture courtesy www.wildbirdsupplies.net


Glass breaks
Never to return to
Its former self
Ever again.


Pieces may fit
Perfectly but lines
Will always show,
Underneath them
Lie secrets untold.

SPLINTERS IN LIFE

Picture courtesy www.cartoon-web.com


Chalkboards
Jotters
Slates
Pencils
Pens
Crayons
In classrooms and libraries,
We harness dreams and nurture
Them,
Drawing pictures of our tomorrows.


Out in the streets, alleys
Along the dusty footpaths
Of the countryside
Life splinters
Leaving us with cuts and
Bruises
Waking us to the reality that
Everything and nothing is
Guaranteed in life.

GOODNESS KNOWS WHY

Picture courtesy www.flickr.com


I hurry along
I board a bus
Driver tarries,
Sigh of relief,
Finally,
We’re on our way.


Suddenly,
Driver’s mate disembarks
A ripe smell in his wake as he
Walks casually in the direction of a hawker
Busy fanning a locally made grill,
It becomes apparent,
He craves roasted plantain.


Seated as though unperturbed
I’m a picture of annoyance
And impatience,
Not particularly fond of
Where I’m going to,
Time really has no bearing here,
So why am I this annoyed?
Why am I this impatient?
Goodness knows why.

HEAVEN ON AN EARTHLY STAGE

Picture courtesy www.dorlingkindersley-uk.co.uk


You touch me in
An intimate place,
Softly
Gently,
My senses run amok
As though possessed,
On the tips of bamboo
Poles you make me a stage
Seducing my whole being
With that which soothes
The mind and tickles
The soul to the point where
Commonsense fails find
Commonsense in commonsense
In your presence
Reason goes to sleep
You give reason
Reason enough to sleep.


Lost in your fragrance
As you tease and mock
Earlobes
Eardrums to the
Point of unconditional submission,
You take possession of these limbs
As though your own,
Stringing me along like
Needle and twine
Slowly,
You build
Within a body none other
Than my very own,
Yet that which I feel within
Has reason of its own,
How does one become a stranger
In a place called home?


As darkness puts
Blindfold over the light
I see nothing yet I
See everything,
You’re beauty so inimitable
Good in the mouth,
Pleasing to the eyes,
You’re music
You’re dance
That piece of heaven
Gracing an earthly stage.


Inspired by the movie - For Coloured Girls(written, produced and directed by Tyler Perry) based on a stage play written by Ntozake Shange

MAN IN THE BUCKET

Picture courtesy www.gettyimages.com


In the confines of
Sanctuary afforded
Water by a bucket,
I stare at the face of
One resident beneath
The untroubled water’s surface.


The more I stare
The wider his smile grows
The wider mine grows too,
Though in a hurry I tarry
I’ve found reason to smile in a
Bucket of water and a familiar face.

A PIECE OF ME

Picture courtesy www.imprentakenia.com


We do not fade
From the lives we touch,
We’re either significant
Enough to be in the fore
Or that less significant enough
To warrant a place in the back.


Happy Val’s day folks. Dunno about you guys but I wouldn’t mind a new laptop ;-)

DEEP WITHIN

Picture courtesy www.departments.bloomu.edu


Striped shirt
Black tie
Black pants
Leather case
Sums him up,
All grown up
Five days a week.


Muddy shoes
Sweaty clothes
Ruffled hair
Bruised hands
A little boy on a weekend.


Him the little boy
The little boy him
Two keeping one together,
Neither the boss of the other.


Let them out
Once in a while,
Little boy or little girl
They lie asleep deep within
Wake them up,
Let them out,
They are us more than
We’ll ever know.

SOMEWAY SOMEWHERE SOMEHOW

Picture courtesy www.flickr.com


When dusk falls,
All retire into
Pockets of darkness
Yawning and enveloping
A tired world.


We all end up somewhere,
Someway somehow.
When night comes,
We all fall asleep somewhere.

ONE-MAN WRECKING BALL

Picture courtesy www.jdlong.wordpress.com


Out in the wilderness
Sits nature’s treasure trove,
Pollen and flowers
Squirrels and skunks
Trees and birds,
Wild berries and fruits
Watersheds, rivers
Transparent streams lost in daydreams,
You can feel life come
Alive out there in the wild.


Pavements in tug-of-war
With discarded chewing gum,
Domesticated trees with pink
Leaves choking on exhaust fumes and perfume,
Birds corrupted by leftover fast food boasting spices
Pepper and coleslaw,
Dogs in sweaters with fur dyed in colours
From emerald green to lilac blue
Weather patterns with minds of their own,
Man’s corruption of nature
Unfolds every day out there in the streets.

BURIAL GROUND

Picture courtesy www.boston.com


On the outskirts of town
Sits a desolate piece of land,
In front of it
Sits a battered wooden sign
Proclaiming these words
In fresh red paint,
HOPES AND DREAMS.


Here,
The dead bury the dead,
Dreams and hope
Buried alive amidst
The calls of crows
In black and white garbs.


Those incapable of dreaming,
People tired of dreams,
Others suffocating on hope,
Journey here with coffins on
Heads and shoulders.


The sound of wailing blots the sky
As sadness ripples the restless sands,
This is where hopes and dreams
Are laid to rest by the dead.

EMBRACING SALT

Picture courtesy www.nydailynews.com


And I came across
That white shone
Bright,
Though it was without
Light and in the midst of that
Which was dark
It stood out among the black
For it was pure white,
It was salt,
Sadly,
I had not journeyed this far for salt,
Therefore I carried on,
Learnt nothing from the salt that I had found.


The further I went
The more salt I found,
Till came that time when
I picked it up and embraced
That which was far from sweet,
For it was not coincidence
That had sent salt my way on my
Quest for that which is neither
Dark nor sour to the mouth but
Rather pleasing to the eyes
And has the power to bless and
Corrupt both the mouth and mind
With neither fore-notice nor prior warning.


And the more I embraced that
Which was distasteful and painful,
The more I began to see beauty in the unpleasant
Blessing in the unfortunate
Peace in that which wrings the heart and
Causes the eyes to birth tears
Lessons in that which had been hidden in plain sight,
For these eyes and mind had been
Dulled by a world filled with
Neon lights
Costumes
Paint
And empty smiles.


In embracing salt I’ve found wisdom
In its sour taste and light in the
Midst of that which neither shines nor
Is capable of bearing light,
In darkness light does dwell,
In light darkness does dwell.


Till come that day when you can bathe from head to toe in tears you shed for that unfortunate event, bide your time, cultivate hope and dare to dream….embrace your salt.

THE DEATH OF YESTERDAY

Picture courtesy www.eye2eye2.wordpress.com


When you
Meet today,
Mourn yesterday,
It died the morning of today.

ANGRY

Picture courtesy www.gomonews.com


We are none the
Wiser when angry.


We are no closer to
Solving a problem
When angry.


We are nowhere near
Happy when angry.


We all get angry
More often than not,
It’s human,
It’s us,
We’re angry.


But sometimes,
A simple smile
And a bit of calm
Is half the problem already solved.

THE WHITE BIRDS

Picture courtesy www.jwfoto.com


Nestled in between
The walls entertaining
Barbed wires and the house
Across the street stood two
Apple trees and an almond tree.


Thrice the height of the walls
One could spy the trees
Swaying from side to side
All through the day in conversation
With the excited wind.


One morning,
A flock of white birds
Appeared among the tree branches,
Adding a bit of colour and
Excitement to the dull green
Choking on dust turned
Up by vehicles as they go up
And down the untarred road.


They would leave by sundown
Back before sun up,
After a while,
The trees looked a bit unusual,
Almost as though branches
Were missing whenever the birds
Had left for the night,
Feathers had become one with leaves.


It was a weekend,
Men with chainsaws in greasy
Overalls showed up,
They stripped the trees bare
Leaving behind six stumps
Looking very unamused.


Till this very day,
The white birds have never showed,
I sit and stare at mean
Looking stumps
Aggrieved and crying out
For shade.


I miss the white birds,
Almost as though they kept
Coming because of me,
They had become me and I them,
The white birds.

BEAUTY IN A WOMAN

Picture courtesy www.hubpages.com


In the middle of
A busy street,
The wind was nothing
But mischief from
Ear to ear.


Bending downwards,
It slowly lifted up
Her skirt and hurried
Along exuding innocence.
The mischief of one had become
The curiosity of many eyes.


Instinctively,
She dropped her groceries,
Reaching for the ends of her skirt,
Because the beauty in a woman
Resides in how well she’s attired.