I just felt a bit nostalgic,
At the office I perceived an aroma,
Tasted like my Mother's fried stew,
For several minutes goosebumps:

Now momma had been gone,
Left this world over four years,
But really feels like now,
As though she left a moment ago;

Safe to say it's still fresh,
So hard to completely remove,
Every single memory,
Scrub every bit of thought;

I take it daily as it comes,
Reminded that time may heal all,
And hey! Say hi to Dad, Mom,
I know both y'all missing me, too.

Just around the edge of midlife,
Driving down the days of old,
The very Friday I came out the fold,
Day my umbilical was smarted with a knife;

Interestingly time has come around another cycle,
And between then and now several episodes,
Enough to fill many, many lorry loads,
More interesting would be a doubled miracle;

Fair to mention that the formers years,
As formative as they may have been,
Will not be comparable to those unseen,
The things that await us on the other side of our fears;

Yet it seems I struggle these days,
To do the things that came effortlessly,
Many times battling to make sense loosely,
Creativity suffers in many ways;

But again, where there is life,
Hope indeed still finds some anchor,
Faith to not lose candour,
And love to complement everything without strife.

The corruption of worldly living,
On this campus that we live in,
Falsehoods in large measures thriving,
A haven for demons to thrive in;

Where religion has failed,
For those who practise such,
The lack of it has helped much,
On angels wings to safety sailed;

The mystery can never be unravelled,
Though open for everyone to marvel,
Opaque even in the clearest marble,
Blind to the widest travelled;

The kingdom is for the childlike truly,
The little ones unspolled by immorality,
Unaware of the smallest bit of hypocrisy,
Certainly not for the decadent and unruly;

Where several lost precious lives,
A child's in ways most baffling lives,
Wherefore the soul that sins dies,
Away from nether gloom, alive the innocent lives.

For,  against; for, against; for, against,
The tension in the air is thick with anxiety,
A date with destiny, set in palpable angst,
Many people with reasons as diverse as society;

To some it is time to pay back the man,
The very same one that did the same,
A decade back when things were much better,
That same oogle-eyed, bespectacled quiet gangster;

To others a means to let off steam,
In the direction of everything, anything,
Not awake, not even in a trance,
Just flowing with tide of vociferous war chanting,

And yet some others just belong one team,
Having a singular motive to cause disruption,
Believing in no other way to realise the dream,
Of a a group of people united by a decent nation;

In response, the government of the day,
Seem to have dropped their breaches to ankle,
Stumbling along with weird interventions without delay,
Ambling this way, that way, like a lost and drunken uncle;

Every where there are armed, cutely kitted security forces,
Many of whom were previously missing where the action is loudest,
You wonder whether these ones live a different reality?
Perhaps in an alternate universe where costs are cheapest?

It is barely twenty-four hours to march off,
The government side-eyeing a list of demands,
Drawn by a determined cross-section of delinquents,
It is all, now, or nothing, forever!

A few wealthy men,
Running around with power,
Laughing in the face of poverty,
Dressed in green and white and green;

A few powerful men,
Strutting around with fat wallets,
Sharing promises to the hopeless,
Allocating lies dressed in dishonesty;

A lot of angry people,
Hungry for something to believe in,
Never known a life of meaning,
Desperate for the chance of a lifetime.

Grinding, grinding, grinding,
Held by the hand of fate,
Around the dimming of faith,
When hope is difficult to operate in;

There is visible resistance at play,
The pestle strains, demands to be held tightly,
Unyielding stones protest vehemently,
Progress is hard, fine result ages away;

Everything is working in opposition,
Nothing is lending support in the other direction,
Many months after an emotionally charged election,
Very little is left to the imagination;

But something must give,
Now, or later,
The former, better,
All in, all in! Live!

I try, really I do,
Not to bring to mind,
That you are no more,
That I'll never see you again;

Your passive instructions guide me,
And the active one keep me going,
Your memory continues to ginger me!
All of which are clean, clear and unblemished.

At times like this I take solace,
In the cheer that you went away gallant,
Not wishing us any bother at all,
Strong, very strong, until the very end.