I want to lick that bit of blue sky
with my eyes; touch it with my pen
before the fumes, the smog, and the development eat it up. I want to drink
its loveliness before the mood fades  and a sick yellow hue pervades the world. I want to be flattened by
its serene loveliness going on and on
into the vistas of unfarthomable time.

hush little brother mine
huff and puff no more
mother is at the open fire
little brother of mine
she's cooking your dish
the one that makes you drool
and the dogs keep watch outside
so eat dear little brother of mine
eat your fill and fill in those hollows
eat little brother of mine, eat
till your tiny plate is shining clean
and mother thinks it is all right
getting smoke in her eyes for you

and the moon wraps me in its dust
a cold dust that freezes my sore skin
as the stars twinkle in a warm vigil
over my yearning body ablaze with
the fire of quests still to be satisfied
together the moon and the stars brew
a romance in bloom like wild flowers
starring the open fields with colour
the old moon weeps cheerless songs
    melodies never before heard
by untutored human ears
or played by arthritic fingers
in search of a miraculous cure
as acidic woes from dim pasts and distances **** nascent dreams
stranger than the quirkiest fictional tales
is the story of cold moons in tropical skies
nevertheless i shall lean forever towards that dream
whose promise is a pale shadow of reality

My usual hard-sole morning walk
My candid talk with the devils in me
My necessary ritual right on cue as always
And the images from my mental shelf
Tumble out, then push and shove for prominence

The usual stop near the tall reeds
The soothing dose of lilting bird song
The throaty baritone of the lazy bull frog
And  the rapture is complete and infectious
In this mellifluent music of the open air

The unfailing breeze whistles a tune of freedom
As the supple  green reeds dance to the elements
Freedom is all around and I am a firm believer
A willing cadre on this road that travellers tread
And for one sated moment I am Che in a beret

Free to roam and free to wish for and dream
Of a world where life is a daily festival

i've been to places deeper than the deepest sea
much higher and bluer than the bluest open sky
and perceived deeper than the profoundest seer
that all things lead to a destination somewhere
thus my mind saw and true thus my heart spoke

i'm going to tell it like it is
you're a despicable little imp
telling me to chill and mellow
when i should bloom and fly
but i now know better than cry
and i won't wilt because you're sly
it's time for me to branch out without you

Comrades and friends
What seems to be
Is not what really is
When I fall into a hole
You’ve dug for me
You are with me in it
When the swell of the tide
Sweeps me away into oblivion
You dare not rejoice
For the same tide
Will hasten your passage
When it’s your time
Those that harm the body
Only scratch the outer shell
Inside where I reside
I remain beautiful and unscathed
And live to fight another day
Propelled by you *****-nilly
To other realms
In other dimensions
Thus accomplish I
What you fear to contemplate
Mine is a feat for all time
While you wonder and speculate
Endlessly ...

a wayward wind blasted heresies my way
and i rode its juggernaut almost to dusty oblivion
but my saviour was never ever too far away
that maestro whispering ditties at my window
and just before the fall she licked my ear
with a tongue laced with a golden truth:
the poetic route is a trip to redemptive ecstasy

From the outside he is unfinished and grotesque
A figure conjured up by a devilish intelligence
Out to shock the world with his ghoulish antics
For who could find such glee in such contortion
But as always poor **** sapiens is off the mark
For inside this morbid cask of human digression
Lies a trove of bountiful beauty in aesthetic abandon
The beauty inside the man is the work of a maetsro
Poetry that seizes the imagination is his speciality
And music that arrests even the gods is his forte
So be not hasty to judge what you see before you
Let the scales that blind your inner vision drop off
And there before your newly-tutored eyes
Will lie an essence of such beauty as you can never imagine
Loudly proclaiming the worth of the person inside the shell
And how disability is only a layer that when peeled off
Unveils the inimitable jewel inside in its range and depth

When words are used to express uncertainty
As if they are the source of knowledge and wisdom
Know you then: no matter what we might say
All in all it's just another blind walk in the dark

from the depths of every nook and cranny
chiselled from the hard experiences of life
i heard a silky deceitful voice say
all things are possible and attainable
so i  stood upon the pinnacle of hope
ready to take off into my wildest of dreams
but alas that voice was my own voice;
it sounded just a little too tremulous

neither your helipad nor your limos
neither your huge country mansion
nor the famed cellar of vintage wines
in your basement world of wonders
neither your wild and loud wardrobe
nor your collection of fancy silk ties
when it matters most in this world
can make any real difference for us
in our assigned bits of rugged terrain
your fabulous diamonds and rubies
and your green emeralds and pearls
are no more than mere shiny trinkets
before the warmth and camaraderie
exuded by those who still can smile
and still can laugh a deep hearty laugh
in this world of sordid corporations
shady conglomerates and mega deals
you had better be on the lookout for
smooth operators and suave conmen
with fads, facts and figures to sway you
these are the hyenas of today's world
and they will always dissemble if it pays

The clock on my tablet has struck twelve
And I wonder what it is I can easily delve
Into on a night as wondrous as this one is

Back home the witching hour has come
And I am sixty-seven and feeling calm
Here in the queen’s realm I still am sixty-six

I watch the cloudy skies for a sign, any sign
Dawn is a reticent traveller and by design
In the home country we’d be up and about

What a lark when finally it’s daybreak here
And there’s none of the fabled English bird songs
To serenade my day, just the sulky silence and drizzle

Who needs contrivance when family is here and warm?
My day is made when finally at table we sit and are merry
Counting my blessings and dreaming of something spectacular.

her frown darkens the still night
and thickens the billowy clouds
till at last the skies glisten bright
with the tears of the mercurial gods
that live in our suffering memories
fall rain fall, then flow water flow
when you go i shall gaze as you sink
in a mock run of my sinking one day

sun sinks beyond the hills
the shadows begin to dance
a thin shapeless eerie dance
and night falls upon us all

big red ball in the early east
and the wily sun also rises
another prickly reminder
that night falls upon us all

now the sounds of fear fill our hearts
we wonder what the new day brings
borne upon a dawn etched by the gods
of timeless mystery and bewilderment

cuddled together in a warm embrace
we drive the frost and the froth of life
from our sore and penitent hearts, and
night falls upon our worst nightmares

The fiery winds whistled
As another fateful dawn
Materialized in the east
And the east was red!

Silhouettes danced in the shadows
And the bullets swished and sang
A macabre melody to celebrate a ****
With mirthless abandon

But you came out unscathed
Your time had not come
You’d live to tell the tale
And ask the questions of the times

with mouth rich like an oracle dispensing word mysteries
lips ripe and red like the inside of a juicy water melon
eyes like a laser beam searing my conceited heart
she looked my way with demeanor raw and with disdain
and the hurt came sliding into my shredded ego
that fell to the floor in a heap of abandoned intentions
she frowned like a queen on a throne bedecked with silk
and her soft velvet walk was like a bomb in my timid ears
as once more she cast a regal look at the mere human that I was
and again the hurt came sliding in with the writing on the wall
and i knew i was chasing an elusive butterfly in full flight

and the snort  goes on
as the pompous speaker drawls on
and the snort goes on
as the mad man sees what they don't see
that the obese speaker with the mole is at sea
talking about wonderful intentions
but having no idea how to get there
and the snort goes on ...

Child of my child, you for whom I lived this long ...
I shall be gone, yet be with you still, especially when times are rough
I shall be your mentor and your prompt under the eaves
As you whisper husky sweet-nothings into her waiting ear
Child of my child, remember these things when they lay me down
In that soft coffin so inviting one could die over and over again
Just to lie in state in it and be the star attraction one more time
I shall  lie there with a still gaze into distances you can't see
And I shall look prettier than a picture in an old storybook
Those given to weeping shall weep themselves sick but in vain
For I will neither move nor be moved on this my special day
And only you will feel my fleeting smile in that enigmatic moment
When you get to know that life is always nigh and never really gone
I shall be relaxed and pretty though dead and you will know then
Why your grandfather brought me into his home to create happiness
So, child of my child, walk softly into the future that must come
The present bears you aloft on wings fuelled by receding past times
And as blinking stars beckon to ocean waves lapping the shores
Live your life as you'd wish to and as I might recommend
Let life's cloistered mysteries softly unravel before your eyes
And carry the pictures that you see in the shelves of your memory
Sometimes to peruse and smile when a memory comes floating in

dancer that you were, you embraced the breeze
and rode its draughts like a lyrical butterfly
but soon your little dance too was done
and your dazed children wailed in the ill wind.
you succumbed to the unknown call of the cosmic bound,
thus lost and stunned we stared at the unfathomable void:
as the erudite sage said, life is about gains and losses
but your going was like a sneaky blow below the belt
now that you're gone i've come to know the bitter loss
of a gifted life nipped in the bud before fruition time
and just how bewildering possibilities erased can be
i know too the cost of it all on torn and tattered mourners
but life does proceed in this way sometimes

the clouds hang very low
like my heart rather sore
the distance to the depths
makes your thoughts dizzy
this is the top of the world
made mystic by a waterfall
cascading down the cheeks
of a mythical bride in tears
wetting the earth endlessly
so walk softly here friend;it's
easy to  land on your teeth
tread easy and slow friend
your shoe is all wrong i say
but that's the beauty of it all
people fall all the time here
i too fell in the mist of night
with the sound of the waterfall
lulling my unease till indeed i fell
welcome o you lovelorn people
welcome to this jewel where people
are always falling,  falling in and out
of step with the  wily seasons

Something fine and lyrical
A gem of aesthetic purity
Shining with resilience
That's what you are

Something defined and refined
A phenomenon in your own right
Impossible to ignore ever
That's what you are

A work of artistry and mystery
Abundant everywhere yet so rare
Forever an enigma and an obsession
That's what you are

Poetry in fluid motion, graceful and pleasing
Rhyme and rhythm in perpetual commerce
Sound and movement perfectly matched
That's what you are: a poetic angel

here's to the many an avid poetic toast
to sweetly urge us on till we reach the coast
let this effervescence  be a portrait of living joy
propelled by the glowing fires of our awakenings

hold your head high poet
for your verses are sublime
do not sigh poet unless you must
but linger when you will in the stillness of a pause

tend your curiosity like a newly-discovered plant
and value it like a rare species from life's archives
let your couplets and your epigrams call the heart to attention
in the cloistered silences of your many pleasant surprises

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!

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

i am a sorry sight for sure
heading for the grim shore
carrying nothing to show
for all my pain and labours
just a tiny frown on her brow
and i'm reduced to a wreck
just the suggestion of a smile
and i'm in heaven, that fabled
place of purest joy and ecstasy
she plays me like a kora, ethnic
and magical in its call and timbre
and i respond like a typical disciple
and say it is well even when i suffer loss

a shooting star falls
mythology
it's trail blazing glory
magic

Mother of the children
            I'm here
Yes I'm here, but I'm so tired
I have a knife that's sharp and indiscriminate

W hen he of the itchy fingers is around
keep an eye on your fowls and your goats!

When he warns you about your fowls and goats
He's being evasive; I'm the village stud, ask your wives!

Mother of the children
            I'm here
Yes I'm here but I'm so tired
I have a knife that's sharp and indiscriminate

Sleep, baby sleep, and be silent
I don't need any water; your father is here
He's sweeping my nether  lands with a broom that tickles me
So sleep, baby, sleep, and let your mother be a queen tonight

Mother of the children
            I'm here
Yes I'm here but I'm so tired
I have a knife that's sharp and indiscriminate

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

listen and listen well to this story
that to every lover gives glory
'tis everyone's rare narrative
a tacit reminder to everyone
that everything happens to everyone

she was once a true love of his
and gave him reason enough to kiss
for when their searching eyes locked
a sizzling  ripple lashed them both
in a moment of seizure that immobilized them

his eyes  could see only her in her rich allure
he was impaled and enslaved by her lyrical walk
and could only gape and drool while she slew him
with that body, that walk and the utter sweetness
it promised without reservation or coyness

but as life often will have it, the song that her life was
faded into the cold distance and as she ascended into time
his sore heart wailed and he sought her everywhere in vain
till it dawned on him that she had been lovely and elusive to the end
his sacred duty was to fan the memory of one once a true love of his

this story my people, is enacted every day everywhere at all times
and though there's nothing new under the blue skies above
        the pain of acute loss is never a collective experience

the yellow moon sank lower
and looked like a wan flower
as with gritted teeth he struggled
against the compulsive urge consuming him
and driving him towards something dire
at the dawn of day crossroads
where shadows and shapes danced
to silent tunes in gleeful abandon
this was his day of morbid harvest
and an ancient debt was about to be paid
with the sweat and fat of ebullient resolve

i hear the sound of a voice
a voice true and enigmatic
and in its magical presence
comes visions of beach and sun
sand, foam and jumping fish
palm trees laden with fruit
and ancient canoes battling
waves all through the night
oftentimes i hear that voice
carrying my name on breezes
and showing me where i go
as the days roll into the future
and i look back and linger
wondering who's to be pitied
and who in the end envied
that voice is like an auditor's
wanting to know why and why
these many columns remain full
and how come my fun account
remains solid and untouched
that voice, life's inner throb
makes me sore unfulfilled

You step out of the shower
       With the sun up on high
and a rainbow rising from your *****
there’s a dream on your cherubic lips
        i smell its fragrance
          taste its flavour
feel its aura awash over me
    and kiss the sweetness
     of your elegant promise
     till the end of a moment
   and the birth of new longings

Up Cliff Road I go
steep and taxing beyond compare
Cliff's only claim to fame
is giving a name to this incline
At Cliff's apex I'm at the peak of my endurance
The resident monkeys swing across the branches
This is their last stand; no more running from grasping humans
The rottweiller at the corner is itching to clamp its jaws
around a hairy monkey thigh, but it won't be
Mike the monkey is a survivor even with half his tail gone
I turn right and down the road I go; Simpson Road:
this is the green and leafy part of town; the sprinklers are running
and heavy duty generators are whirring
These mansions are meant for comfort and effect
and the people here have money to spare but never do
Nobody talks audibly here; it's uncivilized to broadcast your conversations
I walk on past the heap of imported top soil -
someone here means to get someone to toil
to create a monumental fad to make posterity eat its heart out
The birds are whistling outdoor tunes, generic as always
There's a grumpy old timer by the corner, but today I'm not in the mood
for his nausea and his nostalgia; everything is disgusting
and nothing measures up anymore
Retracing my steps I go back up Simpson Road
and turn left into Cliff Road where the sight of the jacaranda blooms
is like a breathtaking sight of purple showers of rain
I'll walk this lane again and again till I am sated

the stony silence
is an offshoot of the violence
brewed in the madman’s dream
none shall speak ever again
he will be king
drunk on brandy and power
and only he will speak
they must listen in perpetuity
he is a latter-day monarch in a monocle
and severe coat tails and top hat
everyone is a servant servile and compliant
his will is to be done at all times and in all places
always he wakes up to a continental breakfast
and an academic on radio talking in RP
like an Oxford-educated pundit of anthropology
who has theories for everything
including the shape of his own nose
lo and behold!
The days of change are here
men shall whimper and die
women shall rise up and rule
from the bedroom to the boardroom
it’s a woman’s world, ultimately
and the tin *** king shall tuck his tail away
and kiss the hand of she who rules

life could be a pure wonder
with lots of real thunder
if we all became babies again
no past,present or future
just a drooling ,dribbling life
where everything is wondrous
and we trust  everyone too; in a
haven of arrested development
then would we spend eternity
trying to decipher baby babble
and the world would be safe

The baby yells
and she tells
       him
about the sweets
    awaiting
        him
in the shadows ahead
sweets are mysteries
        she coos
and babies are so cuddly
like warm-blooded teddies
        giggle baby giggle
        drool baby drool
        dribble baby dribble
            kick baby kick
till the sun winks a smile
and the moon shines a lullaby

This old heart of mine
is a veritable mine
of experiences:
joy, sorrow and raw passion
compassion on some occasion

This old heart of mine
has served me true and faithful
humouring my every mood
with percussion sublime and varied:
       slow and dignified beats for prayer and devotion
       fast and furious when I must flee some terror
       joyful and expectant when she passed by
       chaotic and bewildered when I'm discarded

This old heart of mine
has seen me through times hard and easy
I begin to take her for granted
Though there's a price to pay
For, certainly, one of these days she'll beat no more

the howling wind held its breath
the eclipse let drip a few mysteries
the ocean floor stirred like a cauldron
and i heard the faint whizz of a life gone

my heart beat in rhythm to my desires
my lips trembled before the word leapt out
inside i was a freshly-laid egg waiting to be picked
and abroad the wind whispered its open secrets

i knew then what lay deep in my heart of hearts
a sacred word spoken countless times but always new
i knew also that i was a child of new times and concerns
and that i was love's foot soldier because you said so

roll into a ball
and be on call
time to time
until the dew
snap and growl
whimper and moan
soar like an eagle
strike like a shrike
hop like a frog
and croak your
anxious moments
with your adam's apple
bobbing in your groans
be sweet as a dream
even when you tense up
your eyes hooded
in those cobra moments
then relax and smile like an angel
you're so venturesome
in your 'bedhaviour'

i'm on a mad rush
to see each one gush
that lovely smile
not one but many
in each new mile
lest i procrastinate
and find one sad day
that people have forgotten
how to smile and be happy
that they have become too civilized
let me capture the sun in their eyes
and savour the deep spontaneous laughs
by people with authentic feelings
quite unlike the plastic brigade
nurtured on too much television