THE TRAGEDY OF EYES

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Eyes,
Like mirrors,
They see all but
Themselves.

TIME

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Time is happiness
Time is sorrow


Time is wisdom
Time is ignorance


Time is beauty
Time is ugly


Time is life
Time is death

WAYS OF A CLOCK

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Clocks tick and chime
Clocks tell time
Clocks tell us there’s
Still time.

WINDS OF CHANGE

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Cool breeze
That well mannered
Well travelled wind.


Gentle
Good company
Agrees with the skin.


Unruly
Erratic
Foreboding storms.


Straws and twigs
Wrecked homes
Unscripted lines.

STORY OF THE PAINTER

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Sometimes,
When it is pitch
Dark,
A flurry of
Colours scurry
Out from within.


Sometimes,
When it is pitch
Dark,
All you see is
The colour black.


Dark or otherwise
There’s still colour
In there,
Imagine there were
None.


It is never about
The colours to
Begin with,
You are the only
Colour that matters.

ON THE OTHER SIDE

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Underneath brush
Strokes and subtle
Reminders of tips
Of coloured pencils
Sits a face yearning
To breathe,
Tired of looking at
Sunlight through the eyes
Of a kaleidoscope of colours
And expensive dirt.


Befriended only by
Mirrors and bathroom
Walls,
Waiting,
For that day when
She’ll walk naked among
The multitudes and in between
Short gasps of breath and
Overpowering excitement manage
To speak these words,
I am beautiful.

JOURNEY OF LIFE

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Though in the midst
Of many,
I journey without
Company,
Just myself and life,
That’s enough company.

IDLE THOUGHT

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In the sea of idle thought
Lie decayed and decaying
Reminisces, wishes and dreams
Of tomorrow, today and
Yesterday.


Time sits idle in
The eyes of the idle mind,
With thoughts punctuated by
Surreal impressions of that which
Seems just within reach such
That one can touch them.


In the awakening of an idle
Mind begins a journey of
Lost time and disappointment
Old age,
Time never tarries,
It sure does fly,
Idle thoughts are thieves of time
Unless harnessed just in time.

CAT’S GONE MISSING

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Comes dancing on the wall
Stops!!
Stares!!
Through my bedroom window
Straight at me….
Shoo!! Shoo!!
I cry out loud,
It never shoos,
Leaves when it wants to
Regardless how loud I shoo.


Every morning,
Like clockwork,
Where the plantain leaves run
Astride the brick wall,
There it lies
Sleepy as always,
It yawns
Covers its mouth with a paw,
Rolls over once
Then twice
Sometimes even thrice
Then it falls asleep.


At night,
Before ten,
When all sit still,
It wiggles through an opening
Under the metallic gate
Tiptoes across the compound
Heads for the garbage shoot,
Shoo!! Shoo!!
I shout at it through the
Glass door,
It stops and stares
Almost looks offended.


The door creaks on its hinges,
I go charging out,
Guess what,
It finally shoos,
Slides through the opening
Underneath the gate
But far from gone,
I spy paws from where I stand
Till I hurl a stone and it hears
A distinct bang as stone impacts metal
It bids its time,
Patience really must be a virtue.
For months now
Not once have I bolted the
Garbage shoot shut
Yet garbage sits in there
Idle and untouched.


I no longer see it asleep atop the
Brick wall in the shade of plantain leaves,
It no longer comes prancing up and
Down the wall outside my bedroom window
Staring at me as though I were the intruder.


Never really a friend of mine
Never really my own
We just grew on each other as time
Went by,
Funny,
I miss that grey and white cat.

HANDICAPPED

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Those with sight
Know faces,
The ones without
Know footsteps,
We all have our handicap.

FULL CIRCLE

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A lack of
Consequence
Festers impunity,
With time
Society turns
On itself.

WAITING ON A TRAIN

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Until we realize
We’re here for the
Good of the lot,
We’ll always
Struggle to find
What is ours.


Truth be told,
Nothing really is
Ours,
Not even the shirts
Our backs,
We’re all just
Waiting on a train.

COMPLEMENTS OF TIME

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In the absence
Of day and night,
Time makes
Little sense.

MAZES OF THE MIND

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Yoke and rope
Are the tutelage
Of a servant.


Self-worth is the
Beginning of
Emancipation.

BREATHE

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She has these eyes,
Big black eyes that tell
Stories,
Stories that put
Nightmares to sleep and
Awaken sweetdreams.


Her voice,
Oh! That voice,
Sings lullabies,
Soothes the soul
And teases the senses till
You’re lost in syllables
Rhyme and phonetics
Of common words
Which suddenly become
Uncommon words.


Her smile,
Makes the sun blush,
Tickles the night white
And blends days into one
Another,
Leaves yesterday,
Today and tomorrow
At loggerheads with each other.


Her hips,
Sway from side
To side
Mimicking the varying
Heights of the Himalayas
The toss and turn of tidal
Waves on those days when the
Sea is playful and gay.


Lost in a daydream
With hickeys on my
Neck,
Traces of lipstick on
My shirt,
The smell of nail polish
In my nostrils
Sand in my shoes
Breathe……..

SEVEN

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Burdened by his wares
He squints through
The blinding sun as
Sweat off his brow
Stings the eyes scarlet.


At night
On the wailing floor boards
Of that blue kiosk
He dreams of becoming a
Doctor someday,
Seven,
He’s yet to begin school.

CLOTHES OF NAKEDNESS

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They were architects,
They called the shots,
They led the pack.


They stood and gawked
They watched in excitement
They had no objections.


She was centre stage
She wailed and begged
She found deaf ears.


Today I mourn,
Oh!! Yes I mourn
But I mourn neither
The aggrieved
Nor the one in grief


I mourn that moment in
Time when death was visited
Upon the sanctity of womanhood
In the name of retribution.

SILENT TONGUES

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Time brought change
To our doorsteps and
We obliged
Sadly,
Our tongues did not.


Today,
Our tongues have
Lost relevance
Fallen silent
We’re left choking on
A dead language only
Revered in scrolls.

SHADOWS SOON FORGOTTEN

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Men who seek nothing
But to become average
Have neither face nor
Remembered by even
The children off their day.