Monday, May 30, 2011

An Ode to A Lost Friend

I played a game when I was yet still quite tame,
With my best friend called Silva,
Of pirates and ships and our numerous trips,
To the places we would stop to pilfer.

With a yo oh ho, our faces would glow,
As the world came alive around us,
Pillows as Islands and tables as Highlands,
We fought with hawkers and hunters.

Now, Silva was older, and a great deal bolder,
Than I would ever aspire to be,
He’d get us in trouble, and then on the double,
We’d run off screaming with glee.

Then we would swear, upon a rugged teddy bear,
That forever we would be best of friends,
No mountains or dungeons, dragons or canyons,
Would dictate how it ends.

They say it was cancer, that provided the answer,
To the question that he called his life,
The rest is history, cancer is no mystery,
His death was slow and filled with strife.

On that last day, just before he passed away,
He gave me one of those sly smiles,
“X marks the spot where you shall find your gold pot,
Aargh tis a journey of a thousand miles”

Five years down the lane and when I feel the pain,
I go to our corner so private,
And remember back when, with a paper and a pen,
I could change into a pirate.

Friday, May 20, 2011

A Different Kind of Beauty

The last thing I remember,
Is the smell of freshly fallen Jacaranda,
That sweet scent surrounding my sinuses,
Each flower delicately touching my skin as it fell,
The wind whispering in my ear “I have a story to tell,”
Smiles from the sun cast down in rays, creating shadows,
Restless rabbits running for shelter in their furrows,
Endless possibilities, joy that knew no bounds,
Nature uninterrupted, pure smells, pure sounds.
Then I blinked,
It is all I did; I closed my eyes and opened them,
Just in time to jump out of the way of a speeding truck,
Paper bags replace the flowers on the ground,
Used condoms, discarded wrappers where they were once found,
Buildings tower, look down upon me, filled with pity,
The wind rushes past my ear giddy with felicity,
The sun smiles harder beating on brows,
Businessmen and briefcases look up with frowns,
Everything is rushing now; everyone has a sense of duty,
Some say it’s ugly, I call it a different kind of beauty.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Liberated Thoughts


The words have been spoken, quoted, written and said,
Love has turned to hate and hope to dread,
Peace is no longer with us, departed we stand,
Joy has turned to a whisper, murmured about all over the land.

Our existence has lost all meaning, our reality a fallacy,
Sorrow has become our only comfort, lost within our vanity,
Dreaming has become impossible, sleep an illusion,
Death is celebrated birth discouraged, utter confusion.


Sons have turned on fathers, husbands on wives,
Families have stopped communicating, expelled from each others lives,
Age has become less than a number, language no longer the queen's,
Clothing has become an option, selling sex to the teens.

Money has become a god, before him we shall bow,
Patience lost her virtuity, the time, here and now,
All have searched but none have found, they have no hope at all,
The utter chaos has left the world wondering who to call.

The poets,
Business people,
All of human kind, shall stand,
And we shall stomp our feet in the ground and say, enough!
Too long we have had it rough, tough and figured it out,
Then we shall congregate and remember the virtues of our forefathers,
And for fathers we will make sure we go further,
And outline their values one by one,
Self control,
And love.

Every word uttered shall be one of positivity,
Every action one that will encourage longevity,
Negativity shall be extinguished and evil shall have no power, none shall be subjected,
She and all of her kind shall all be rejected,
To sit back and remember a time and a situation,
A situation whereby.