Not as Free as You think


We are free to have no constraint
Not so.
Our actions and words come at a price
And added responsibility.
Every word you utter, every act
Have echo that reverberates in
Some one’s mind
And can be damaging if not
The spoken is built on lies.to be silent
Is not an option when injustice?
Happens then it is a duty to talk.
You can be vilified, friends turn against
You but you have stated your opinion
And are truthful to yourself.

Sleepless again
It was a night without sleep
I had seen the movie “The Jacal.”
Twenty years ago
Ripping stuff!
Then I went to bed and saw the movies again.
Scene after scene
So young, the actors were.
I liked the inspector the best, he with a bushy moustache.
Not so happy about the ending
Of all the police on duty, he asked the right one?
The general could have been hit, say, in the foot.
Couldn’t get the movies out of my head
Had to breakfast at six o’clock.
From now on, JB Fletcher will do; it is predictable.

A cook at sea

The sea is restless and white-crested
It moves the ship up and down and sideways
Broad legged the cook tries to keep order
With dancing pots and pans.

He dreams of roses but is surrounded by steel
He knew of better times, south America.

The cruel tempest starts after lunch
When in his bunk tries to sleep but is tossed about,
He has been on his feet since six o’clock.
Hopes the sea will calm before the evening shift.

How it commenced

Some fish found it difficult to breaths
Underwater, they swam ashore and rested
Later they crawled to the garden of Eden
Where grew hands and feet

The post office is an oasis of harmony caused
By women staff who work slowly.

The fish now transformed into humans
Expelled the weakest link they got no hearing
Or discharged into the jungle of mangled words.
Those who lack intelligence suffer ignobly.

memories

The bus is full, and the kettle is on the boil
Three children are playing on the beach
One will be a businessman one will be an architect
And the third one will be a contrarian
Critical of the social orders.
The problem with remembering childhood
Is that we are recording a thought time everything
Is accurate and also fantasy how it should have been
But never was.
A few, if they go deep enough to remember a scary
World punctuated by rain and sleet
Dangerous adults doing unspeakable things
Alcohol and fighting.
So, if you must tell your story of everlasting summers
And happy school days.

When death struck

I was rowing in a narrow fjord the sea was calm
Then rocks fell into the water disturbed the peace I rowed on
Until a part of the mountain fell formed gigantic wave
I was lifted riding the wave and saw a village disappear.
The boat splintered, but I was safe.
I looked down into the village people coming out not knowing
They were dead. I saw them dissolve becoming drips of water
Before they ran into the sea and was the sea.
I kept on walking and came to a valley of roses they know nothing
Of the tragedy that befell the people in the fjord.
I built a house in the belief; here, the sea would never reach me.

Obsession
Autism in the likes of Julian Assange
And Greta Thunberg is a force for good
But their passion can be tragic for them
As they go to any length to follow
The mania that rules their life.

I had a tailless dog, who had a mania looking
For its tail, circled till it got dizzy.


Obsessive people can be tiresome but they  
Have great courage and suffer for their beliefs
They are heroes for their quest for honesty
For what we should be grateful.