The stream (all workshops)
I wish I were a tough guy
The kind you meet in books
Made of rock hard muscle
With rugged hard man looks
A Raymond Chandler hero
Exuding macho charm
A super spy or villain
With a beauty on each arm
I’d love to be the kind of guy
That others see and fear
The bane of every coppers life
I'd look at them and sneer
I might fall for a sucker punch
Get beaten up or more, but
I’d meet them face to face
And then, I’d even up the score
My skin colour is stained
With an orange circle round my mouth
Each time I take a sip of Fanta drink
My skin colour is not buff
Neither crimson nor cerise but mixed
With a tint of blonde on my head
My skin colour is not difficult to tell
When I look at myself backward in the mirror
My father’s skin is made darker by the sun
Charcoal black when he sits by the fire
Then turned grey with dust of the season
Like the bark of our cherished baobab trees
Death is unknown
Life is the mystery
On the path
Through my own history
I was born
As a positive spark
But alone the way
In came the negative dark
Lost in a world
Without a guiding light
My heart became hard
To withstand the fight
Mists of hate
Clouded my mind
I could not hear or see
Those that would be kind
The opaque screen
Which was my life
Kept my thoughts
In constant strife
stand against
this forlorn wish
the falling wave
heavy as a guillotine
September stays
October drawing
like a wick
the flames of souls
entwined
the sharp taste
of bitter lust
dressed in
Tuesdays look
like your secret
photographs pressed
between the pages
of a favoured book
So many times
So many have tried
And
Failed at it,
To unveil the veil upon my statue,
As I stand alive inside it.
That veil when my time comes,
To attain glory,
Guys and girls come out with stories gory
Why do you want to unveil the statue?
It’s not yet ready,
So they say,
Why unveil it in a half-baked way.
A living statue perhaps maybe
So they steal my recognition away,
If you've never herded oxen,
the way through madness is
an unfolding thing, but
not necessarily so;
if you've never hugged a tree
you must have vampire eyes, drawing blood
from life and limb, but not
necessarily so.
If you've never been in love with love,
you've never climbed a mountain much
less Jacob's ladder, but not necessarily
so;
Hark! hark!
A raven in the clouds.
A slight of sleet,
A chilly hand,
A malevolent spirit barks:
Howl! Howl!
The birds and owls.
The beasts of night
Are feeding fast.
Caw! Caw!
The sound of death.
The funeral gate
Is void of hope.
Leave! Leave!
The reaper calls
Within his solemn,
Melancholy hall:
"To death, they die,
For death, they lie.
For loss, they mourn,
For hope they cry!"
as yesterdays hand
slips off my shoulder
tomorrows embrace
takes my lips
in this, today
I breathe a thousand sighs
and soar a
breathless wind
I've heaved the night
until the day broke
and stood in the middle
of all and nothing
and now I live
in the milliseconds
between this world
and the next
Eat and be merry
A glass of wine with cherry
Sparkling in eyes
Of vibrant young
Nothing of concern
Is discerned
Staring in bottom
Of bottle of booze
Youthful fun
Faded memories
Looking back on
Wasteful youthfulness
Experience, knowledge
Deep rooted
Produced wisdom
From bottom of the barrel
Sound vision…
I stared in stereo,
listened in colour
You were speaking,
that little smile was
playing at the extremities
of your lips.
I felt myself
content,
That long ago evening
we both knew…
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