What’s Your Glory?

Rain drops as they burst upon a windshield
The heart rendering wail of a child
Soft smooth chocolate rolling on your tongue
The sweet smell of mud
The guttural croaking of frogs
Unknown feet trampling through the night
Tired nerves that shiver in my arms
A pen tapped on my shoulders
Innocent eyes that you could dive into
Astute hope
Surrender
Cleansing tears
The tremble in my fingers
A vision
Deep clear blue peace

14th May 2012

I forget the word

I lay there
In dreamless imposed sleep
My body, lost deep in soft white folds,
Occasionally, glazed eyes came into focus,
Ears heard the faint moan of a body.
Each cell inside me had settled down… settled in,
I tried hard, to nudge myself.
Will to get up, search among the debris, for once me.
But I lay there, in limbo, motionless
I dug deep, hours
there came to mind a word…
I know not its meaning.

Wish I knew what

I meander around wide halls,
in circles,
an Exit, not an Exit after all.

Bright yellow lights,
bounce of the polished yellow floor,
blind me.
Its the club of the elite,
yet it seems so ordinary,
in a poor sort of way.

I step out into the semi darkness of dusk
feeling let down
something just died,
surrounded by lavishness and liveried men,
Wish I knew what.

Untitled

There is thick dust at the big black gate,
sheeted metal pulled together, cold and silent,
locked.

Dust, gathered in a ball,
mixed with long grey hair,
an empty sachet of chewing tobacco.
It all flies a bit this side, then that,
each time a vehicle whizzes by.

A big thick red stain runs long,
dried into the concrete by the sun,
ugly, tomato sauce that someone stepped on.

Sometimes you'll fuck my mind dudes,
Sneer at the world I come from.

This world,
So upright.
So uptight.
And too fucked to admit it.

8.00 p.m

Blinded by Rage

They’ve cheating me, aren’t they?
Those rotting hearts on smiling faces

They’ve cheating me, aren’t they?
Those sleek tongues in wicked minds

The pain oozes out of an innocent face
A ray of trust just blew out

My heart fell, he says
and the word comes back to me, after very many months

In the loss of innocence
In anger
Pain
Helplessness

It matters not what glory you acquire from the world
The finery you use to cloth yourself
The justification you give your deeds
For the grief of a broken heart will condemn you
To that which you can little explain

(Dedicated to those who will understand)

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The horizon in shades of green,
Water tanks, blue and black,
Clothes of all hues waving in the breeze.
Cloud 9 advertising its services,
Who would think, it would need to?
But it does,
Its the recession.