My Time Has Come

Pressured by life
To take a path
“Tell us your chosen way,
How are you getting there? ”

I don’t want a knife
Make me in half
No you can’t make me say
“Please, why won’t you share? ”

I’ve been driven here
Time and time again
The path of most fear
“This is no time to begin”

So I’ll CRY, my tears away
And scream your tears to the sun
Freedom will come my way
My time has come

So I’m going to make my own choices
To get me out of this Hell-Hole called life
Please, don’t give me your noise
I don’t need your wife

I was pressured in life
To take your path
To tell you my way
How I’m getting there

Take away that knife
I’m no longer in half
I’m not going to say
You can’t make me share

Someday later, I’ll cry away
Screaming your tears to the sun
Freedom is here; don’t send prayer’s my way
For my time has come

love evolves; colors

love evolves; colors

my troublous quarks.

I lie in the shadows

of our entangled light

as under sleeping trees -

there silence has a place

as a continuance of a holy text.

We are dazzled matter,

and spin in shadowed water:

wave, particle, hieroglyph,

whatever we are, we are part

of this gliding night's adornments,

of the night that holds like memory

airy relicts of the known

and light of my emptiness filling.

I see them dancing around fires

I see them dancing around fires
with panga-blades in place of spears
while they are holding a séance.

More wood is thrown on the fire
while a wizard throws out his knuckle-bones
and the fire flares up with a bright ardour.

More brewed beer is poured and downed
and some more are being brewed
and the old spirits are called to appear.

Under the glowing of the golden moon
they later stand in rank and file
and pangas are put into the fire

to get magical power
as the white man has to bleed
and must be exterminated.

Who can still stand on his knees,
with eyes lifted to the Creator
while they sing Nkosi Sikelel iAfrika
asking for His blessing?

A Life To Hang On To

Why did she leave, I know not,
What went wrong, have I hurt her naught?
We had it all, we were a happy lot,
I don't understand, please forget me not.

Flowers for you, a gun for me,
I'll put myself out of this misery,
I grasp the trigger and pull,
My last vision was you, your heart full.

Moments

Wind whispering, carrying the sweet scent of life
Moments of silence allowing the sounds of birds to fly
Sunlight dappled by shade, moving with the breeze

Paper smell, black on white, escape to worlds afar
Moments of magical times that never were but will forever be
Passions, emotions flowing through words penned in ink

Bubbling laughter, sighing smiles, life’s small gifts
Moments of peaceful joy, gold sun and silver moon
Fire, ice the feelings of today tempered by the hopes of tomorrow.