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Thursday, 24 October 2013

Story of the journey

It takes brave hearts to win losing battles   
Tables turn around magic avenues 

And we dance the rain dance 
Like tribal dance 

Chalk painted on our  face 
Like William Wallace 

We will have our fair share 
Of this bounty 

It has been foretold 
In our hearts as we aspire 

Do you not see the fire 
That burns in our eyes 

It is rage against the obstacles 
That stand obstructing our clear visions

We chant the rain down 
An oasis in the desert  

Never mind the thousand and one  
Mirage we went past 

Long forgotten 
Like the labour of a mother 

This is the testimony  
Of great men 

Many a story of the journey 
That was taken  

Friday, 18 October 2013

Life and plans don't mix

I have been running 
For so long now on treadmills  
It seems I have long forgotten 
Why I started running in the first place 

They say life is what happens
Outside the plans we make 
It waits for no man "pull your weight up son"
To get his house in order 

It  is more like, build as you go, clean as you go 
But don't forget to lift the carpet up 
Every now and then for spring cleaning 
A few skeletons piling up, weighing us all down 

Half way the game changes not like predicted seasons 
Never at the finish line as we expect 
To start as new, a fresh page of conundrums 
All woven into each other finely abstract and entwined 

And life just keeps happening tic toc 
John Lennon knew best with wisdom 
Guess that made him a lucky man 
To have had the realization, awakening call 

An understanding on the meaning of life 
Life is what happens when you go making plans 
Saving the world and exposing the pretentious 
And just in a blink of an eye he got shot,  dead and no more  

I read somewhere a list of five things 
Most people say they regret on their death beds  
And sat down to stock take and ponder  
A true check list, avenue to compare with  

No man lived wiser and spoke with sincerity  
Said the ultimate truth without prejudice or falseness  
Than a dying man with last breaths 
To call his own nothing to lose of this worldly desire

No hold backs
For game change
In last cards played 

The five list of regrets on death beds given by a nurse to compare with 
1. I wish  I had the courage to live a true life to myself, not the life others expected of me
2. I wish I didn't work so hard
3.I wish I did have the courage to express my feelings
4.I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier

Tuesday, 15 October 2013

Kecskemet silent winds

We met on paths of entangled strings 
Where light zooms past time in passing 
Where humanity go to wonder 
And travelers, travel to distance lands  

Beneath the sea bed lines lie 
Sat invisible so like magic with waves 
We got tagged like paper clips attached 
Finding common grounds to stand 

From our past journeys 
We were drawn together  as one 
We romanced, and sought to make plans 
Friends came to add to the root of this tree 

To strengthen our ties 
We became family  
Not ceremonial on alters 
With exchange of vows 

But by association we became one 
To be called family as so under one nest 
A spark with love we had as bond 
A single bed we shared as home 

Then it was all gone like a bad dream 
Nightmare of what we fought on, confused me 
Entangled waves to third parties and stories told   
And their sides to consider weighing us all down 

I once loved you my dear and wrote 
Many a love poems to celebrate you 
But it was never enough though, that love 
We shattered this vase of romance together, wars 

Strangers now refusing to love each other ever again 
My pen bleeds dark words when I try to celebrate you
When I try to write you a love poem like old times 
So this would be my last poem  for old time sake 

We met in tagged entangled waves with sparks 
And left in entangled twisted emotions in lost worlds  
When the light the light that promised to 
Shine everlasting went out of breath 

The magic went out 
Romance went out 
Our love went out 
Just silent winds remind like ghostly whispers 

Sunday, 13 October 2013

Trotro Stories #12 slap the mate

We stopped in the middle of the road
No hard shoulders to call safe grounds

Non empty that passed by
You see this situation could have been avoided 

If I listened to my instinct  
And the strange noise from the trotro 

Just before it moved 
Mate, stop, stop I dropped something 

Could have got me out of this 
Predicament and to a place on route 

Close to home now 
No AA or RAC to call for assistant 

Bells of frustration rang 
By the passengers, gathering weight 

Something would have to give 
And that is the mate calculating 

How much to charge us 
Customer service in the trotro 

He would get a slap 
It is just a matter of time 

Too many hands are being thrown 
In the air right now, he would get a slap 

I just see it coming, a slap is called for 
He would get a slap, for sure 

Thursday, 10 October 2013

Write a beautiful song

Write a beautiful song
And call it poetry

I am ok with that
I am really ok with that

If it wakes my heart
And opens my closed eyes

I am ok with that
I am really ok with that

If it brings back long memory
Lost to the wilderness

I am ok with that
I am really ok with that

If it brings back love
To my heart and fills it full

I am ok with that
I am really ok with that

Write a beautiful song
And call it poetry

Don't hold back
Use all the words you can find

Create your own and add to it
Borrow another, just do it right

Don't hold back
Don't hold back

Don't hold back girl
Don't hold back

Pen it all on this piece of  paper
Open your heart and let it flow

Don't hold back girl 
Don't hold back babe 

I will sing along and recite every word 
With emotion, like a pledge we swear an oath by 

I am ok with that
I am really  ok with that

So don't hold back
Don't hold back girl

Open your heart, your mind 
Sing it loud to wake the earth 

I am ok with that 
I am really ok with that  

Write a beautiful song 
And call it poetry 

I will just sing along 
Like a teenage crush on a pop star 

I am ok with that 
I am really ok with that too

Friday, 4 October 2013

Dirty Games, Dirty Dance

Dirty games and dirty dancing, broken vases a, broken wisdom 
Is us celebrating, celebrity mediocre as fine tune 
And putting that on a mantle piece, Yes Sir !

Content hallow in the world of consumerism 
Flash light, nothing last, nothing holds form 
Nothing is built to last on this hype 

Rushed through all in no time 
No time for analysis, void in making meaning of 
Factory belt sat on, moving motion passes by  

In goes out comes a rabbit on heat speed fast vibration 
A process defined with no added value, its battery powered 
Its sensation sexuality sexualization wealth and arrogance 

Hard to tell who is with wisdom among the crowd 
Camouflage keep that unannounced, trainspotters hallucinating 
Awareness is looking at one's self in the day after a hangover, it is not done 

At night we all come out like vampires with thirst 
Dress as the same, liquor fuels our agenda 
Hard to differentiate the politician from the reverend  

The prostitute services them all  at the same time 
And she is owed by both for non payment on tabs 
Still they think it is right to ask for discount 

 On account Miley Cyrus and Micheal Jackson are frowned upon 
But again the good die young so why not switch 
In this crazed world we live in, one learns to adopt  

Honesty is laying it bare, it is an art form of exhibitionist 
Going naked is a protest by FEMEN activist 
Yet the eyes are all engaged, gulled, perverting 

Quick now, how they jump out of the wood works  
First with stones, dirty hands and hypocrisy, cleaning mouths 
With false self-conscience on misdirected attacks 

Dirty games and dirty dancing, scarce morality 
Who would grace this floor first 
The music is in play 

The last laugh

There are no right or wrong answers in this realm 
Don't be fooled, the world is too complex 
For such simplicity and claims of utopia 

It is always with a plus or minus 
To a significant figure room for variance 
Never an exact science 

The good will die young at this rate 
Preaching with novice ideologies 
Making disturbed noise, sounds to wake the beast 

Life is largely grey and in varied shades 
There are only consequences as price to pay 
IOU will be paid, no debt collector forgives a debt 

The good the bad the ugly is you 
Looking in the mirror, at yourself  
Thus me myself and I, as a school of thought 

Speak no evil (the good) 
See no evil (the bad) 
Hear no evil (the ugly) 

In all things, in all things just be aware 
Of the price and be prepared to pay 
As per consequence demand, no excuses 

Do  not nag about it and bore the rest 
Waiting in line to take up the baton 
It would be foolish to do so, angering the gods 

This is the definition of adulthood, life. 
Set out clear, without any pretty colors
Covering the realities of battle grounds 

In the end, time makes all things irrelevant 
Ask the dead about their wealth 
And see who has the last laugh
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