Losing a bet

I lost the battle of wits
I lost the relevance it holds

Indeed I came last on the count
Indeed I did not place at all

I lost the right to be named
I lost a seat on the table

I lost a bet tossed with a coin
I even lost the coin that was used

I walked blindly naked in a crowd
I was crowd shamed on a stage

I lost my bravado to a bet
I took a chance and I lost

I wished the fortune teller
Had told me earlier

That one does not play
A betting poker card game

Chips on the table mounted up
With tarot cards

No matter how good one is
No matter how good the odds are

I lost the battle of wits
I lost the relevance it holds

But my pineapple hair looks nice
A least so I am told

Things fall apart,pick a place

Pick a place, pick a time, pick a location
Pick a season, pick any given topography  

Pick a reason, with any explanation given 
Pick an assertion to stand by as a strong notion 

Pick a flag colour coded as representative 
Pick a cause as derelict which ever it may be 

Pick  a declaration, from this day forth
Pick an activity to devote to, fanatic 

Pick an affirmation as a resolve to medicate to 
Pick a dream, accompanied with visions 

Pick a character, strong as will 
Pick a route, well mapped out 

On occasion though, I apologize 
Gravity just has its day 

No matter what, strong chains break
And things fall apart..

Things fall apart, clouds gather, pick a place 
Any given day, any given day, on occasion   

Brown and Agile Child

Brown and agile child, the sun which forms the fruit
And ripens the grain and twist the seaweed
Has made your happy body and your luminous eyes
And given your mouth the smile of water (Pablo Neruda)

Dying trees, falling leaves, rebellious
Brown and weathered with gravity force pull
Dying bond, loosened tiers decapitated alliance
Brown and agile child, the sun which forms the fruit

The sun has exploded, loosing its form
The rain would only fall in the east, these lines drawn
Protest of family feud, detached with amputated arms
And ripens the grain and twist the seaweed

Out on land similar to others as weed with inversion
Plant but will die from this environment and grain alien
Yet green and wet you will be until the sun
Has made your happy body and your luminous eyes

Dry and empty and now with savage
To taste the blood of all on a platform of scorned
Eager with dead eyes of revenge for vampire thirst
And given your mouth a smile of water 

The River Horse

Slow down your horses, clip clopping 
I have only just got to the river 

What's with this panting 
Galloping and hopping over fences 

Neigh with a push on my back to hurry up 
And snorts and whinny impatiently 

Waiting their rush turn to stampede 
If you rush you  get rushes 

Do horses get rushes 
Or turn into hippos as river horses 

To muddy the water you would 
With rush, to have dirt on your face 

Slow down your horses 
I have only just got to the river 

The sins of our forefathers

The sins of our forefathers 
Would not survive past our reign 

As fruits we were held delicate 
On branches of the family tree without blemish 

We dangled green and we grew with age count 
We gained weight and substance hold 

We matured and became ripe as apples 
To be plucked by birds or another 

To be weakened and bound in transition 
To fall to the ground as humble 

Alone and vulnerable we rot to the ground 
To relinquish our old define 

To the seeds that sit in our hearts 
To the soil that entombs us 

Until we find our selves no longer 
Protectorates of our forefathers 

We grew as trees, with branches wide
To bare fruits that dangled as off-springs 

They would not know the sins of our forefathers
But only as heroes who once lived 

And carved this route, a lego brick wall 
With the blood that flows in us 

The sins of our forefathers 
Would not be known past our reign 

It is as tradition demands, a humans 
Not to speak bad of the dead 

For no saint walked this earth as clean 
As allowing heroes to be made of our forefathers 

Rotten Apples

Coconuts come in all shapes and sizes
Regardless of which season we fall in, notions  

Tempers flare and characters get animated 
A few gate keepers get excited, reasons 

Weights get thrown in, like fuel on rage 
Swords drawn; first blood crusade, choices   

Sides taken, are not always that clear cut 
Sheep in wolves' skin, wolves in sheep's skin, gains  

Anyone with a special interest, wanting to impress 
Vested in their own insecurity, to step on another 

Know this, in the King's kingdom 
The foot soldiers are known to bark the loudest 

Nameless to the King, like a chiwawa with threats 
Hooked high on rabies, barking mad  

Nutters disturbing the peace  
Announcing their valueless worth 

It is rather unfortunate, in this regard 
To find we came from the same valley 

A Skeptic's Cake

Skeptics never see the cake bake 
Never when it is out in the fields 

When the farmer ploughs his fields 
And for each row he plants in sown seeds 

Not at 5am each morning dawn 
When he wakes to attend to his farm land 

Skeptics never smell the cake fresh 
Not at harvest time dirty old fields 

With the grains through the mill work 
To the flour made fine and ready 

Mixing the flour and the butter  to dough 
The eggs and sugar to be added to the mix 

Skeptics never lay plates ready dressed up tables 
For banquet; for what cake? baked? no 

The oven kept warm and just as right 
At the temperature best prescribed 

But when the curtain is drawn out to day 
Skeptics are always first in line to lay claim 

Skeptics never see the cake bake 
Skeptics never smell dreams fresh in the oven lay 

To place a bet

I had a dream,  and saw what became of the corner stone 
If prophecy had value it showed really it did 
With the bet it placed on the corner stone 


Half the time when names crop up 
When names from the past crop up 
When characters from old crop up 


Leading one to wonder, just what became of thee 
Did one flourish generously from seedlings to trees? 
Was one able to bare fruits of thy seed?


What of the one sidelined, he was among us
Of the group that came in on the third row penalized 
Close to the back and sat with comfort 


What of the best among us 
In those days with golden parachutes 
The ivy league, with know and attention seeking 


I wonder, what became of thee 
When all others had been used to build 
Who stood out to be the load-baring corner stone 


If prophecy has value it showed 
And the fortune teller came good 
I bared witness to what became of the cornerstone 

Clarifying a word to Watson

I hate comparison, greedy eyes holds 
Such hunger, perpetually starving 
Wanting and needing, green eye monster 


I have seen the wickedness in man 
For just by greed, of wanting more 
To have brought down a nation 


Corruptness of the soul 
It even invades the holiest places 
Of man made to hold our moral compass 


But you see, my dear Watson 
A conundrum of the coin rule 
Springs to mind, coins and their two sides 


For how does one set a bench mark 
Without the assistant of what stands 
To glorify, as heights reached to aspire 


You see, Watson, I hate comparison  
Where in lies, the claws to envy 
Poking out from ten fingers, nails 


Allowing greed to set up stool
In one's comfort "casa" with hate 
Like cancerous cells, spreading fast  


But never when, it stands as a light house 
Navigating through the midnight fog 
On, with my sailor captain's hut 


Aye aye, to reach harbors, without shipwreck 
Do not confuse my word, Watson 
When indeed I say I hate comparison 

Sherlock Holmes http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sherlock_(TV_series) 

Do not anger t' gods

I will try not to look too pleased 
Maintain my composure and "cancel" jubilation 
As quiescent as calm waters 


You would not see, waves on frozen ice 
Not even by freak of nature or by chance 
Stealth mode, that is what we going for 


I will not look too pleased "elastic" with ecstatic 
To have you, read my cards 
So open, and curse my success 


But why should I not look so pleased 
I started where you did and "labored" my opportunities 
You buried yours, with fear and stood solid as statue 


You rained your doubt on me as foolish 
And said "this my friend would amount to nothing" 
You predicted my downfall and said I was foolish to venture 


So why should I grace you the honor 
Of holding back my excitement 
Just to give you, a quiet exit

To say you deserve that respect, tradition bequest it 
And to avoid your curse on my success 
Is that something new from your old rhetoric 

Going on the couch

Sometimes, we h'e a sit down with Sigmund Freud 
We hold our breath, to hold our tongue 
To stop this out pour of larva, from burst 


We bite our lips, and grunt and growl  
And stamp the ground to swerve response 
We count to a thousand, then again to a thousand 


Or go for a walk, where walks are needed  
And strive to clear, our heads they weigh 
Being calm, being wise, on rational, composure


We count to a thousand, then backwards again 
And again, if bulls still rage on lament 
We hold our tongue, with all our might 


Such acid wield yell, eager on response 
If left to rain storm dust, on reaction 
With mouth filled full of sour-grapes 


We hold our tongue, on circumvention stands 
We hold our tongue and walk away 
To make void contrition in the theatre of life

Don't Bottle It

Don't bottle it or if you do

If you have, if you have to, then know this 

As a school of thought to share 

Rooted, sometimes knees down we dig so deep 

Into the earth of muddy fields, miners 

We forget we are made to walk with legs 

I saw a picture of one such so constant 

Only to realize, it is inconsistent with time 

Yet maintained constant in its identity 

Remember legs are made to be walked with 

And what is one to be defined by, by act and words 

So strong, so brave, to influence decisions made 

Surely the concept of perceived notion  

Half the time is wasted on second guessing 

The mind plays mind games, brilliant at doing so 

So what is the shape of the bottle, I ask  
To define the worth of its content 
Don't bottle it, in knowing where value lies 

A Foot In

The show must go on, I insist  
I bought a ticket   
I spent a penny, I am in for a pound  


A door way manifest in corridors, lurking    
Where once laid nothing, emptiness in silence    
Of visions in tunnels, no light in sight  


And a miracle is prayed for   
Trapped like a mouse on funeral service
In a sealed hole, trench warfare  


A door way manifest on corridors 
Bridging gabs between two worlds  
Like a wormhole, solidifying alternate universe   


And I am foot in, blocking closure 
The forces that be, will have to let me in
Before this door is closed , I swear


The gods must be joking 
To think otherwise; I doubly swear
Believe me, to think otherwise    

Protestation, Why not

Sometimes in life, we prepare for a run 
Only a 100 yards or so to go, no biggie 
Have you seen him, with speeds like bolts, he is fast  

Then it turns out, he turned up, in the wrong boots 
This was his walking boots, or was  it his running boots  
Either way, it was the crawling shin pads, that was required 

Rules are rules, you have to crawl, it is the rule
To see the end in sight, in arm's lengths distance 
This should be easy, a run will do, I protest 

I protest, stuff to do, a run will do. 
I have too much stuff to do, busy me   
Why not a run, to get this over with  

Done with, done deal, gentlemen's handshake  
Then I will be out of your hair 
Then you will be out of my sight, o boy

Rules are rules, sorry sir 
Yours was to crawl, sorry sir 
Those are the rules, sorry sir 

It is the subliminal line 
That which you are to find 
That the end is just ceremonial, didn't you know, sir 

You missing the point, sir
The rules are the rules, yours was to crawl 
Go get changed, yours was to crawl  

So my friend, get down on you knees sir 
Crawl crawl  crawl, sir
Yours was to crawl, sir