Mood Alterations

The edge seems intensely sharp
we fear looking into the eyes of life
and laugh at those who shelter the innocent hearts
so we blunt our fears in mood alterations
and empty the barrel at the challenge of love
so that we can ignore the answers our children seek.

we curve out shapes from broken glass
and bend the arrows of religious conviction
to suit our policies and mask our fallacies
but always, the sunset is dimmed
in the smoke of burning dreams
dreams of the earth
which can only respond devastatingly.

but even when the trees scream
and when the volcanoes burst in molten tears
we shut our eyes, clamp our mouths and deafen our ears
indulging in onanism, fatalism and alcoholism
pretending that we are not speeding up the end
the end of our civilization
the dear friend of our materialism

Dreamless

Walking on dusty ground
Stumbling deeper into the desert
Grasping at mirages in my mind
Laying my head on rocky pillows
Ornaments of skulls and serpents
Swearing at the haunting vultures
Embracing ghostly madmen
Sipping on venom
Servant to a host of demons
Sitting on a treasure of nothingness
Talking to imaginary friends
Hating imaginary foes
Waking to an empty reality
Wishing for a real nightmare.

Dreamless

Walking on dusty ground
Stumbling deeper into the desert
Grasping at mirages in my mind
Laying my head on rocky pillows
Ornaments of skulls and serpents
Swearing at the haunting vultures
Embracing ghostly madmen
Sipping on venom
Servant to a host of demons
Sitting on a treasure of nothingness
Talking to imaginary friends
Hating imaginary foes
Waking to an empty reality
Wishing for a real nightmare.

Jungle Eyes

The eyes of the whisker-less male lion
so intense like the stare of wrought iron
so seductive in their dangerous glare
I want to touch his mane, though I'd never dare.

He roams the Serengeti with less confidence
Without his Kingly carefree-ness
The jungle has become his prison
The knowledge-gifted mammal, his poison

The rawness in the eyes of the virunga, mountain gorilla
pure and powerful like something straight out of a thriller
Begging me in his reddened tearless eyes
Beseeching for just another century of existence

Virunga weeps for his skinned kith and kin
Venom spews as man encroaches, and nature thins
The enemy has declared war on the universe
Self declared God! No more for us, no more of us

13. March. 2009

Inspired by Charles Alexander's Art

Development

November 2007

We are perfect and bold as the sky above
we’re blessed with voices and wings like doves
so the sea claps with the rocks to cheer us on
for we are one with the earth, so gentle and dear.

But our perfection is tainted and stained and smeared
and our smiles are broken and curved in frowns of fear
fear to fly and fall and lose our all.

Some are more ‘perfect’ with their pockets of gold
dreaming each day for more and more to hold.
They run further and faster from the rusty and dusty
and while in their glittering and towering mansions
they drunkenly share with their select companions:

“I saw this old lady’s hand in my face
and held out a penny to try and save face,
I heard the crying of the hungry babies
But only had aspirin for their ignorant mothers,
I shut their useless men up
With cigarettes and cheap liquor
I have everything to lose…yet more to gain”

You ask where compassion and sharing have gone.
They’re not in your pocket, you must build anew.
Take your heart and cleanse it with love and peace
Tear your shiny shoes and clothes off
They are blinding your eyes from truth
Stand in the nakedness and passion of freedom
Then listen…
Listen to the silence of those voiceless souls
Listen to the wisdom whispered in the wind
Follow the promise of a transformed humanity
And lead on with faith, courage and humility.

HOW IRONIC

How ironic, uhuru park now lies on prison’s edge
Holding hostage the beauty of a national heritage
Like a vagabond with no beautiful songs or dances
What a virus! Insipid yet vengeful and venomous.

The symbols of the greens are blown and battled
Out of the oblivion of the unknowing tender minds
And oh! how the eminent drop like ashes
Into graves and gravy fuelled peace talks

I was caught up in the powerful’s baffling and canning
he was my friend, my legs for running
but I have no more yard to go to, my home I must defend
the bubble around my heart I must suspend

I hear them condemning violence, shaking hands at tea
Yet their faces fill the screens in word exchange
Plunging our emotions into heated debate
Our friends now foe, our husbands now hidden

There are widows singing late into the blackened night
There are those nursing more darkened wounds
Humming a charred tune to her dying baby
Praying for Samaritans to bury her children’s bones

What a laugh! News articles on cravings of the affluent
Of food addictions and endless rear
Yet at the door of our mansions, they’re empty and spent
More lives are tossed unmarked, while we enjoy a castle beer

But don’t worry about the starving homeless
You’ve given him face and fame in death and doom
He shines at the strike of the dazzling flash
Aphrodisiaced by the trail of press and words so harsh

2. feb.2008