she longed to hold a child
in mellow arms and be wild
and free as a francolin at dusk
but alas, time waits for no one
now she wails in my heart
in memory of that humid day
when she planted her pain in me
and watered it with her tears
in the recesses of a day fled
in my palms i now hold shrunken hope
the price of a dream that was too vivid
to see the light of day in the haze in a maze

look me in the eye
and make me high
with a passionate sigh
that's like a sublime musical note
and I shall for ever be your vote
in the annals of lovers' exploits

he parted the flimsy curtain
and saw her petite figure flee
his impoverished life in some glee
his muscle and brawn weren't enough
and everything was suddenly so tough
as he contemplated the cold evenings ahead
and the silent moments without her infectious laughter
he knew without doubt that nothing would ever be softer
than her measured walk out of his life and yet have such wrath
that morning was a morning of sorrowful discoveries and pain
the flap of her jacket as she walked up the incline to the open road
was like a metaphorical but macabre shaking of the dust that he was
forgotten now but abandoned a long time ago as they both knew
it took a morning such as this one to put a seal to what once was
for so long, so far way and long ago in another country and another time
when he mattered and was still the prize she sought for waiting so long

it was for me a glum and dark world
until I discovered the perfect antidote
deep raucous laughter from the heart
the creases on my face disappeared
and I was soft and smooth like a baby
when they took me off the mad island
I could laugh a fine sophisticated laugh
or do a coarse sarcastic cackle that jarred
against the aesthetic ring of affluence
so richly abundant in those emulating glee
they didn't know that i had stumbled upon
laughter when I needed something to do
In a world defined by magnificent loitering

She used to obey his every whim
       Love then was obedience
She used to let him have his way
       Love then was playing along

In those days he was never to be questioned
      His every word was like a deity's proclamation
In those days his every fancy was as good as done
       His every mood was to be humoured

Now he is the piper and she pays for his services
          He plays any melody she demands
She tells him what to dream and how to talk about it
            Lady luck deserted him the day the tables turned

infatuation
ravages my gullible heart
as i am entrapped by the words
of a mouth full of artifice

we hurt most
those we love best
paradox

The song in my poem
is pure gold
My poem
overflows with cuddly music
that's a comfort when I'm forsaken
and is re-assuring when days are bad
The song in my poem is for all seasons
devastating when I'm in ruins
fortifying when I march to my demise
and a prompt for the compulsive actions
of the fools of history
The song in my poem
can lead you to perdition and oblivion
or it can lead you to ecstacy and contrived joy
or the sweet freedom of being gone forever
I am alive to all the posibilities on life's menu
and I'm the gourmet that chefs rustle up the magic for

We go one way
Time goes the other
Patience is a myth
In your merry youth
We rush to the zenith of our folly
and so quicken our demise
Time goes its way and cares not what you do
And try as you might
You never can catch up
And you never can evade its ravages
These spindly legs
Once carried a proud athlete
These tired old legs
Were the pride of a queen of the ramp
But now alas, time has played an ace
and won the race
Time goes its way
And we go where we are bound

look no more for things novel
search no more for the spectacular
and stop once and for all being particular

be mesmerized no more by things instantaneous
neither be amazed nor bamboozled by things human
for in all such cases no immutable laws are ever broken

here we come now with one new phenomenal law of the universe
and verily my muse bids me tell you that everything is a miracle:
happily going into near-suspended animation
as you go into a deep sleep
the rhythm of your walk
as you go down the aisle
to embrace your destiny
being skinned alive and dissected
then sewn back together again
these are the unsung miracles of our times
radio
        television
                        the phone
                                        the mobile
                                                        th­e internet
and this thing called love

        everything is a miracle!

When mother was there I splashed about
and in glee and wonderment had bout after bout
of childish pranks and tomfoolery in the dirt and dust
But she didn't mind and rewarded me with loving smiles

One day Mother went to this place from which mothers never return
but this was hidden to me in my world where mothers never die
The new mother was full of ire and venom and had a lashing tongue
I learned the hard way why you never go where your mother isn't

sometimes
i think i'm flying
and i ponder as i hover
over thought light as a feather
and ethereal as a mad man's dream
sometimes
i think i'm dying
because i think i'm alive
and without substance or essence
i float about free and frivolous
and make-believe that my preoccupations matter
sometimes
i think that if i cry a river like one in fever
i might find i have exorcised all the sorrow in me
and that a new regime of easy laughter comes in
sometimes ...
just sometimes

this is the cap that poor jerry wore
the day that he beat the big drum
until his palms were so very sore
in the heat of the dance in the dust
now he sits still and takes it all in
saved from soiling his cap with sweat

the fine essence of her ethereal being
oft times floated and wafted into the air
then would the music in her truly ring
with the poise and peace making it so fair
to hanker after the lasting and lusting hues
of the demented pleasures of abandonment
thus did i feel the dent from her covert teasing
she was soft and mellifluous like richest cream
and her walk was like a choreography to the hidden notes
of a musical profusion of poignant melodies and a rich pulse
deep in my lulled consciousness i knew for certain
she was the source of my beckoning dreams in technicolour
the sin that i didn't commit lest her purity  be forever soiled
she was the sweet walker in whom nestled my wildest fancies

my house
               my car
                         my children
                                            my furniture
                                                                my laptop
                                                                               and so on
How about
these are the companions and the comforts that life gives
in its wisdom and from its bounty
and verily my sojourn on earth
is dripping with possibilities

the bold and the bald
the cold and the called
the bored and the bowed
stalled and stole warming hearts
while the crow cawed timidly
and the deed was done indeed

well hello hello big man
you're looking quite suave i must say
your almost palpable gloss is off the fat of the land
i suppose you could say you're the leader of the band
but you choose not to; you're far too smart for obvious moves
understandably, it's been goodbye to all that stuff from years ago
they suffer densely and in perpetuity who wait for providence
is your guiding principle; so the quicker, the greedier, the better!

out of bouts of manic depression
into whirlwind ego trips

the poet ambles along
taking in the delights
inhaling the morning
in a world gone awry
while others  huff and puff
to unknown destinations
on the highway to nowhere

In all this illusion
lies a deep confusion
about what I am
and who I am, really,
and when its all said and done
I am just someone who passed by
but never came this way again
In all this illusion
lies a deep confusion
about what my purpose is
and what the bigger purpose is, really
but when it's all said and done
I am just a wanderer on the prowl,
looking for dreams to embrace
and looking for succour
in a world gone crazy with soccer
But, in all this din nobody hears me, anyway
Lord, this life is depraved!

big red sinking sun
hangs low, and the
horizon is a canvas;
that silhouettes
dance eerily on
for night is coming
and the yellow moon
has a cold numb glow
the leaves whisper
a swishing melody
dreading the touch
of a cheerless moon
that paradoxically
makes  the girls swoon
on this nightmarish evening
wolf whistles slice the silence
with a sick aching desire
atop mythical wings
speak softly and hold me close
strange things can happen
on nights such as these

the break-of-day eastern sky is a primeval crimson
tinges of rich yellow speak of the gold in the sun
i salute the coming day with a stretch and a yawn
and i know i must be up with the sun to caress life

a cackle, a coo, a rascally laugh and a gruff lament
tell me little has changed and all things mark time
i bow to those who die a million deaths in their time
yet up with the sun still sing songs about each new day

a little voice whispers to me softly about things cosmic
and how everything has a shadow that's its clone
i applaud the ingenious few who strike out bravely
and remember how they have upgraded things lately

up with the sun my dear maiden true; the ties that bind
are forever in motion seeking a breaking of tensions
i  **** a piece of me every day when i sulk like a reluctant groom
for up with the sun I must ride away into a velvet sunset dream

once there were lavenders here
            blue and mellow like the song of a blue waxbill
                              swaying in the breeze
            in obeisance to your hypnotic lilac outfit
and i sat there mesmerized like an alien on foreign terrain
          as if the outer person mattered that much
                  till like Houdini you broke the chains
                        of the intensity of my need
                                 and i was alone again
                                          naturally

shapi is leaving, the old man cried
shapi is going when she should stay, he said
lord knows i've done everything; i've tried
        she came into my life in a blaze of glory
        she of the dimples and the dancing eyes
        she was a breeze come whispering
        she of the rich ***** and coy smile
the story of my life was done; i was sated and glad
        when shapi set foot into my home and my heart
        she was a warm song on coldest winter nights
and a cooling effect when the humidity was unbearable
        the old man with several days' stubble wept sorely
        as his memories teased and tormented him
        shapi's sensuous figure haunted him still
        the artistry expended in her making
             the fluidity of her graceful curves
               life had never been this kind
                   where the things that bind
                  were concerned ...
  now shapi was leaving and he was alone
and the cloud of dust raised by the old bus
        choked his memory and dimmed his eyes
     those who had never seen and old man cry
    were hushed by his gushing tears and by his wailing
                as shapi left him, never again to return

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

life, said the vagabond,
is a busy highway
and we all walk it
bound for nowhere
when you see me again
i shall have been nowhere
though i'll have been away

one last tearful tryst
    saturday
poor little fool*
------------------------
Short Senryu

you took me on a wondrous  space trip
to the vastness of a foreboding outer universe,
to places i had never thought i could traverse.

i learned that the imagination is as vast as cyberspace
and that all things are possible to a fertile imagination
especially to one looking for  magic and wonderment

so in the depths of our speculating minds
the word was made flesh in a spectacular flash
as your imagination wove a tapestry of things uknown

it mattered not that spoil-sport reality soon set in
or that once more i landed on terra firma with a bump
we had the power to wish into being all our fancies
and the duration was of little importance in our utopia

with each sunset the days are going
and though i've never stopped toiling
this wilderness bewilders me still
till i ask myself what comes after me
what gain there is from a poet eluded by material riches
some leave dream-quality mansions for posterity
others bequeth fabulous wealth to their progeny
and they're remembered for their bounty
but i, the poet in the family,will leave only my words
they will shed tears when my images come alive
they will say how singularly spectacular was my diction
and they will make songs out of my poetic epigrams
but they will not see in their chapped hearts
how other life was always hovering around me
how the words i invoked floated near the edges of my person
and how something huge was always on the tip of my pen

a thoughtful little frown
on his face like a crown
the little boy's cute words
waft gently from his lips
as sweetly he intones:
grandma when you go
how will grandpa know
how to get to where you are
grandma, tell him the way.
his words are like the cream
oozing out of a sweet spout
into life's waiting receptacles
as out of the mouth of a babe
words about demise come forth

Smarting from that cruel retort
      and the smoke of ages
      that blurred my vision
                    I lost
    a golden opportunity
   to breathe her into me
in one huge gulp of indulgence
          They lose who gaze
                   into
  worlds of reckless abandon

when i think about things
  i remember the flings
and the lazy afternoon walks
and stolen hugs in the dusk
i think about mother
busy in her smoky kitchen
and father with a pipe
in the corner of his mouth
puffing out smoke like a sage
i see grandmother's toothless smile
and hear her sing a happy song
lustily as if there was a throng
dying to hear her yodel
one last time this side of the great divide
and then i think of the girl
in the cheap cotton dress
and how she thought she was taken
although i was no more than a cadet
in these matters of sore hearts and headaches

he wrote in his diary
how the lord had blessed him
t'was the thirteenth of the month
a fortnight later the lord blessed him with demise

that feeling again
i'm on top of the world
  and there are no stains
      on my conscience
  i'm the idea that was to come
    the mother of all miracles
    and women's darling boy
       how they all want to cuddle!
that tangy taste in my mouth again
                   life is kicking
and everything has a taste
right now there's spice in my life
                    i'm a jetsetter
             and a party favourite
          my finances are sound
my associates are impeccable
       and i move in powerful circles
i have the pope's private number
and i am a force on wall street
             life is jumping
              not limping
              oh the jolt!
  i wake up and all i see is the mist
       of my dissipated dream
    as it vanishes into thin air
     and i'm groping again
    life, thou art a ***** still!

couch!
ouch ...

make each other happy
if you can and when you can
and especially when feel you can’t
because opportunity often eludes us

we're all colour and bliss as we sit
fleeting guests at the table of life
where we learn to savour the sweets
of the world's ephemeral treats

when our little dance in the sun is done
like butterflies we fold our wings
till the next flight, as memories mope around
in the vaults of our shared experiences

thinking and feeling something's just not enough
and never thinking and feeling anything's just as rough
so while there's time for hope, love and sincerity
have a heart to heart talk about the things that really matter

There were times when the fine film of thin dust
on the gloss of well-polished genuine leather shoes
spoke of long winding roads that led to a deep moment
frozen by the breath of new seasons on the brows of hills
and etched in spray paint on the skies of our yearnings

The long winding routes along windswept terrain
How they frustrated the wild dreams of youth!
Dreams of a surfeit of everything and a dearth of want
These roads we travelled believing we were not alone
are the archives of our extinguished hopes and dead dreams

We live in continual prayer that opportune moments
will once again come before us on some blessed day soon
and are certain that this time victory is ours to take
Our moments of elevation are well and truly nigh
They wait to be set in motion by the winds in the wishes

i thought i was alone
  till i saw the shadow
         behind me
          and how
                it
         trembled
              and
        hesitated
    at each next step
        i knew then        
    that we're never alone
          because
           there's
      always someone
          around

there was a wild fig tree here
no other  tree stood near-by
on cosy sunny days we lay
under its spreading branches
watching birds chirp and peck
now only this gnarled stump
speaks of the memories  made
how do we choose to trade
a haven for this barrenness
and everywhere it's the same
we seem to like this sad game
of erasing familiar old places
and things from fond memory

this day has to be the day
when i finally  have my say
in the scheme of things;
it's all up to us earthly beings
                    i say
to love and savour what life gives
from its veritable bounty
today is my day of harvest
and i gather into my memory bank
the swishing of the wind
the whisper of the breeze
the lulling bird songs, so reminiscent
of the first morning on creation
the sound of the coming storm
that never ends
and the echo of the wisdom of the ages
that says make your foundation strong
today i cup the palms of my heart
to receive the showers of cosmic blessings
it's been a long hard road
but i never walked it alone
there was always another searching soul
so though today is my day of harvest
i still wonder how i deserved it

The old man sat before a flickering fire
The wild winds of august rose in a wail
And somewhere there was a deep moan
Like the earth fled by a painful groan

The weakening eyes swam in salty tears
The nostalgic outburst of a glorious past
And he knew 'though nobody told him
Somewhere in the distance was his apex

He knew too, that his time was done
This earth renewed itself that way
As some left, others made their debut
In time to soar then burn out, like a fallen star

This was his swan song to an absent audience:
Amble when you should, sprint while you can
And do all the things you want to do on time
The grim biological clock stays no execution

And you whose only claim to fame is your youth
You place too much faith in expendable things
Soon you too will creak, groan and moan sorely
As your body sags so does your morale sink

Old man that i am with gnarled fingers and dying eyes
I still have an inner spark that lights up my universe
And my heart tells me that when finally i take my bow
It will be to close a tale of near-misses and occasional joy

So young ones, you who are still beautiful and desirable
There's no tragedy in getting old;beauty lies under the folds
One day someone will compose a ballad in your honour
And we all shall make music of a kind in silent graveyards

Where complete strangers will wonder who we were

A coy celluloid look
From under false eyelashes
Borrowed from a third-rate movie
A dry grin on the green
Just the way it was on the screen
These are the things you can learn online
And catch a big one any day
Thereafter it's a pizza in dim light
With digital music completing the rout
Soon it's cuddling time and your fate
Is sealed in a move replete with hollowness

Somehow everyone will know
years after I have dissipated
that I too ***** this earth
and played a part in the demise
of the world as it had been
since the start of time and history
and that I too created the dearth
of the wholesome things of life
And when all is said and done
there will be nowhere to hide:
the tense clouds I melted into will cry
and I, excess baggage, will be spat out
the stars in the heavens will frown
and I shall weep endless tears
as the annals of the world vilify me
And when all is said and done
this is the one time that the poet
speaks for the quick and the dead

Life is full
of twists and turns
delays and stoppages
but ultimately you get there
if you put your mind to it

Dreams do come true, sometimes
and we can celebrate, sometimes