Between the love making and making money,
Between the rat race and racing formula one machines,
Are moments of quiet confusion,
And times, of noisy calm.

Boyfriend, husband, father,
Bae, hubby, daddy,
You may call me Freddie,
To me, one, and to them, the other.

Hardly any good,
What man has ever created,
Guns, explosives, prostitution,
Gangsters in the hood,
Sad, this doom, uncannily initiated.

Homeless, sleeping under the skies,
Hungry, scavenging among rotten piles,
Naked, shivering in the wild,
Sick, hanging on to dear life.

Many, many moons ago,
They came with sea prisons,
And now after many seasons,
The people risk all to have a go.

It was a simple plan from the start,
And every little detail was in place,
Until you showed your angelic face,
Then the mission became your priceless, beautiful heart.

Take love, knead, twirl, knead, twirl...,
Be careful, let not your ego swell,
Bake at a degree of expectation,
Serve as is hot, eat with dedication.

Suddenly,
Unexpectedly,
Sadly,
Unbelievably.

Nothing to scream about,
Or throw vein popping tantrums,
Nothing to sulk about,
Or break fragile eardrums.

An imp, an intelligent one,
A scholar, well beyond his time,
Both step forward, before,
Their queens turn everything into dust.

The past is a bride,
That never completed,
Her wedding ceremony,
Wishing it was a nightmarish affair.

There is quiet fire, raging,
A gentle tsunami, rolling,
Silent whirlwind, breezing,
Calm storm, brewing.

How can you, a loud despot,
A tyrant of mean reputation,
Now offer a democratic solution,
To the same problems you quietly  support?

Beloved shackles,
Fettered minds,
Hands that never want to swing free,
And feet contented with walking backward.

Uneasiness, tossing and turning,
Suddenly an outburst, howling,
It's midnight and the senses are struggling,
Thoughts fly all over the place, praying.

If we actually did stand,
Every time we felt like taking a seat,
We would have saved time otherwise,
Spent on benevolent knees.

Growing up was lonesome,
Didn't believe I was awesome,
In fear of everything,
Self esteem was nothing.

With one great push,
And with all our great mothers,
Opening the heavens with gentle assurances,
Out came our bundle, resplendent in every way.

Whence art thouest from, oh son of perdition?
For mine ***** knowest thine not,
Ye have tarnished thine heritage,
Even if nothing good ever came thereof.

But we are not at war,
This peace of ours demands too much blood,
Life has become an easy offering,
To the gods of acrimony and senseless aggrandisement.

In life such desire manifests,
Upon ones creativity one invests,
Upon ones intelligence one banks,
Upon ones wisdom is placed resilience;

Upon the strength of ages,
Past, future and present,
Upon the combined forces,
Of goodwill and positivity;

A man may come,
Into his own,
Or lose it all upon,
Some flimsy whimsy negativity.

The world tries to tear us asunder,
They say we can't love each other,
Our kind don't belong together,
We're brother and sister.

For all sorts,
Things of all kinds,
Used, used, reused,
Different items end up there;

From old pots and spoons,
To second hand cars and trucks,
Even underwear and magazines,
Shipped off to a geographical trash site;

A place unwilling to innovate,
Not akin to creative Enterprise,
Always seeking shortcuts,
Thus remaining the world's refuse heap.

On either side of,
The crimson divide,
Sat two hearts that,
Beat out untruths.

I was drawn to something,
Everything about you,
Then you took it all,
And made me look stupid.

By the time,
This lockdown is over,
There'd have been a tectonic shift,
In the balance of World Power!

The month came,
To me, of the same,
Need to feel good,
Again, 'cos I am no wood.

Do not love too much not to get hurt,
Keep the wall up enough to jump over,
For many wander the streets of insanity,
Not of needles, of powders or of tablets.

The devil died in my arms last night,
She gave up without a fight,
I had lived with sweaty fright,
Always melting into something light.

Better late than not,
The long, drawn night,
Full of agonising fright,
Will not be our continued lot.

A man whose time has come,
His darkness shines brighter than the morning,
Shadows are always running,
As success is the new morning.

By the time,
This lockdown is over,
Brother, sister, you may not need,
A building called church, to gather.

When I stand in the shadows,
Of the ancient ruins of,
The grand old pyramids of Egypt,
In the same colours of their makers;

I wonder at the magnificence,
Of my ancestors in all their glory,
As they wrote their legacies,
From everlasting unto the very end.

The little ants by the edges,
Or the tiny microscopic ticks,
The scurrying roaches along the cracks,
Or the annoying rodents lurking the shadows?

Teeth sunk in the jugular,
With no hope in sight,
Then one, two, the whole herd!
Bravely rekindled hope for one last fight!

The best time to be awake,
Is through the night,
Even if there's no light,
It's okay to binge on that cake.

Everything in its place,
In this peaceful space,
Being here by special grace,
Something no devil can ever replace.

Awareness?
Existence?
Interaction?
Emotion?

Stopping by this edge,
To smell the spring roses,
In the far distance, commotion,
Carneries dancing in a pond;

Gloomy looking workers,
Slunking off to site,
Tired looking eyes,
Forcing reluctant legs along;

Sprightly children,
Dancing off to school,
Shiney brown sandals,
Stomping dirt roads;

The many governed by a few,
Grains stored up for the few,
Poverty and sorrow for the many,
The little, always available for the many;

Tiny speck, unseen,
Huge beast, terror to the eye,
Soft, fluffy, pleasant to the touch,
Odoriferous, prickly avoided by all;

Black people wake up one morning,
To white people on their shore,
Four hundred years later, across the sea,
Mixed race people face discrimination;

Terrible claws swooping in from above,
Little furry friend darting around for bits of this and that,
Unbeknownst calamity bearing down on silent wings,
Delivered just before the next available hiding place.

Hunger holds me by the scruff,
Life has been so tough,
Nothing I get is ever enough,
Who will give me some stuff?

The dark side of life,
Everything's got a price,
If you can't pay up,
Kindly leave, please.

The long and unending nothingness,
Bright light or thick black,
Strung by the neck,
Or shot in face, neck and torso;

For killing a girlfriend,
Or stealing common patrimony,
For creating a deadly virus,
Or ****** a week old infant.

Clothed in this hot thong,
But how did I see?
My mind stripped her long,
Oh, ****! My zipper came free!

Thinking laterally from this point,
Or diagonally up a steep incline,
Thinking vertically, ascending,
Or descending without losing the nuts and bolts of this matter.

Blood chilling howls of the children of state float into nothingness,
Merchants of destruction revel in the trade of wanton killings,
Powers and principalities celebrate a marriage of economic convenience,
Deaf, blind and mute to the daily anguish of the people of state.

Under the hardship of poverty,
And persistent lack of anything comfortable,
The people have turned a brutal lot,
Not minding whether their leaders perish;

But why blame them?
All they have known is impoverishment,
From cradle to grave is a struggle,
With no affection from the top;

The people attend rotten hospitals,
Learn, if at all, in crumbling schools,
Move around in rusty public transport,
And are buried in overgrown graveyards;

And when the forces bless their tormentors-in-chief,
With ailments of Eastern origins,
And cannot go to Western lands for cure,
The people are glad, and dance to karma's melodious rhythms.

Silence cut through thick expectation,
Minds already at wits end hopeful,
For some favourable mention,
At least the cup can be half full;

The people of state are in a frenzy,
Day and night they stand watch,
Not a time to be lazy,
Bonfires pierce the night like a torch;

Criminals are on the loose,
Tiny looking lads called the untouchables,
Ask the vulnerable to choose,
Between life or their valuables;

The otherwise heavy-handed jackboot,
Suddenly has grown light,
They that delight in shared loot,
Miraculously have blended with the night;

So, here we are on another leg,
A journey within four walls,
With nothing, even a happy keg,
To quench the longing in swollen *****

In my eyes, my eyes,
I see, oh, yes! I see,
Hotter things than can be,
Much colder, even colder than ice;

When too big, too big,
Enormous even by all standard,
And failure a distant thought,
Nothing is large enough to scare;

The little ones that make big things,
So they withdraw their unnoticed labour,
Put down tools and make a protest,
Saying what the heck! We made you!

So much power,
But do they know?
Of course they don't,
Overworked even to bother;

But the day the sun shines,
On their consciousness,
And they are filled with enlightenment,
Olympus will have to sit up!

Standing there, wondering,
Who was staring back at me,
The stranger with the devilish grimace,
Taunting me with a wicked grin.

Dirt poor, low life lackey,
The son of nobody,
Gutter rat, poverty hugger,
Hardly a warm meal to eat;

But blessed by fate,
With power to stir minds,
Wielding instruments of revolution,
The gates of authority swing open;

Carried on the shoulder of the impoverished,
Feet washed in their blood,
Backed by their relentless hope,
And annointed by their faith;

Alas! Comrade turned traitor,
Refusing to yield the people's mandate,
Trampling on the same spirits,
That oiled your rise to prominence.

She floated on my consciousness,
She danced on my hair strands,
She veiled me with ***** darkness,
She taunted me with ghostly waist bands.