when he spoke
his voice was the sound of tomorrow
and his words were sweet and enigmatic
taking you to the fields and the forests
to the sound of the go-away bird
and the apocalyptic ground horn-bill
when he spoke
he was not  so small a boy
his was alive with things no one understood
and made you feel it would all go well
even as the storms gathered and there was a swell
of fervour, mysticism and gallant conviction
that sent the sons of mothers to their many deaths
his name was freedom
liberty today and tomorrow the moon!
the cry rang out everywhere with electric effect
and there was no need for the double-speak of diplomacy
or the hollow-sounding epithets of hair-splitting academics
freedom spoke for himself

so tantalizing
the whiffs from the kitchen
an omelette of freshly-laid eggs
home-grown onions and tomatoes
and a touch of spice to thrill my tongue
as i chew the goodness of the mushrooms
so enriching
jazz as a soundtrack for the first meal of the day
cooked over an open wood fire after sunrise
the blue sky is a huge canvas
on which the rising smoke etches multiple shapes
that dance and dissipate as a whispering breeze passes by
here our sweat is the appetizer for the natural goodness
of the rich and abundant foods in our organic garden

.

He doesn't realise...
The weight of his actions and words that pummel her to the ground.
Beating her down for every time she rises up to undo his ropes with which she's bound.

He doesn't see...
Past the darkened lenses that she dons.
She wears them,
not to shield her pride that was wrongfully taken,
but to protect him from the repercussions that would come with accusatory speculations.

He doesn't know...
Of the soaked pillow that accompanied her.
The rivulets of tears...
She had quietly shed without a whimper.

He doesn't hear...
The silent altercation between the treasure that beats in her chest and the thing that thinks in her head.
The struggle that ensues when the mind tries to rescind what the heart had wholly given and carelessly said.

He doesn't care...
To think of the devastating waves that come.
Only to erode the last bastion of hope she nurtures...
This frail wall that she prays for nightly.
Just so that it would hold up through another day's endeavour.

He doesn't feel...
The need for empathy.
For he thinks that he's god with one devout follower.
He commands her loyalty with his deluded testaments
and his fists as sceptre.

She doesn't live...
To see future suns.
For her day finally set when it all came down.
The wall she had feebly held together with her life...
Easily gave way when he came at her armed with a knife.

.

His gold-capped teeth
Lost their glitz and glamour
When the peasant boy smiled
A sun-filled smile whitened by his warmth
I knew then that real value is easy and natural

i will come to you
rich only thus ...
skewered by the troubles of my unfulfilled dreams
irked by my  agrieved imagination
battered by the blows of relentless misfortune
famished by the constant fare of hope and fantasy
driven on by conceit and a crying ego
and that ever fading dream of getting rich and famous
being adored by a queen like you
and flourishing on generous dividends
from long-suffering social and financial investments
i will come to you
like an off-key air that you must moderate
like a breath of ill-wind that you must transform
into a melody of love

your coming in with the rising sun
in soft morning light and glistening dew
made me think life could be  a huge smile
and that nothing about you could be a trifle

conversation with you was like lyrical poetry
full of measured tones and profound emotion
words are wholesome food when one is enamoured
you sip their oozing nectar at every sugary pause

your voice was like a heavenly harp magically played
by expert fingers dancing to an inspired melody
that only i and they could hear, and cherish like a dream
thus see me now with my face still ravaged by possibilities

but alas, you decided to take your leave with the dying day
and i knew my bewilderment would last the stretch of eternity
you walked away into the twilight and never once looked back
those who go away with the setting sun do not always rise with it