In my innocence I was brave...

And knew no fear,

No boundaries, no limits, no doubts,

Unable to imagine my spirit contained.

 

The sky was open...

Then came that ceiling,

That flattened the top of my head,

And crowded my dreams with fear.

 

The ceiling was clear...

You could see right through,

Unwaivering and unmovable it sat,

Intending to crush my dreams, so...

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Why do poets ponder

The birds of the air...

For their beauty, their freedom, their song?

Why do they find peace in asking

Questions that begin with why?

Why are they so willing to share

The inner most part of their soul,

Hidden in symbolic mazes

With hedges high?

I guess what I'm really asking

Is why do I?

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My dear homeland, with fields so wide
And rivers that carve through vast, silent tide
On green hills where the calm winds flow
I left my heart in your soil below

Where wheat grows tall, and autumn turns gold
I, far from you, in the cold snow unfold
The distant peaks, where bears are hunted still
Sing in the breeze, a sweet, wistful thrill

Oh, my homeland, why did I leave thee?
With fo...

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I know me much better than you , I know what I have to do .

 

Don't do any interfare , Don't take so much of care.

 

Make me free to fly , Make me not to lie.

 

Take me to the sky , Let me touch so high.

 

 

 

 

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I Remember.

 

Thank you I say.

For the sacrifice.

You made.

In the dark.

Of the night.

You gave up.

Your life.

So, freedom.

Could be saved.

 

You lay.

In the ground,

as I look.

Down.

At my friend.

And you're free.

From pains of war.

 

Tear in my.

Eye.

Pride in my.

Heart.

I will always.

Remember you as.

I have done before...

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For me, there should be roses raining,
A sky of wonders, never waning.
The world should twist, turn on its head,
And all its worries left unsaid.

 

At sixteen, I dreamt with quiet fire,
To reach the heights, to never tire.
To claim my place, to stand my ground,
With every voice, I’d make a sound.

 

And later, I longed for something grand,
To see the world, to understand.
Not lo...

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When We Were Boys.

 

When I look back on my childhood.

The older I get it becomes more of a haze.

There were a few good times.

And happy memories they made.

 

No Internet or phone screens to hide behind.

Always playing outdoors come rain or shine.

Dropping off our school uniform and straight to the park.

The adults always knew where you are.

 

Just be back in t...

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I don’t want to mask my poetry

I want you to understand me

Curse your perfect rhythms, rhymes, haikus

Your lyricism, your literary

When I try to adopt it, I turn mute.

Something channels through me

(I’ve never really found the root)

A demanding stream of consciousness

That cannot stop to breathe, let alone

Wait, conceptualise, draft, redraft

I can’t!

...

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The title of my sonnet is inspired by that of the excellent 1995 film, Land and Freedom, directed by eminent film director, Ken Loach, persecuted in the UK and elsewhere for his compassionate socialist views.

With reference to my last six lines: the terrorist murder in 1946 of British soldiers, of Jews and others should not be forgotten in the rush to attempt to justify the seven-decades-long ...

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She sees the world as an ocean 

And she wanna dip her toe in it 

I told her if you go to far 

You gon need a boat witcha 

She grabbed a boat 

She's ready to go 

I told her make sure there’s a 

Life ring and a lifeboat 

Just in case cause you might need those 

She responded “that’s fine” 

Bags packed

Excited to go on this ride 

I untied the rope from the pillar 

...

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This just in
The faulty firing pin — from a fire arm
had become dislodged
effectively,
causing it to misfire

very briefly …
in acceptance of all responsibility
the city-state committee
has sent a representative
that will be answering questions

now… back to you

in other news
we have a sunny forecast

there’s a color shader
right there, on
this heat map
that has an infrared si...

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Sometimes I go to my car

Which isn't very far

But during work time it can seem strange

As if I'm lost and out on the range

 

Sometimes I forget things

Important, useful, essential things

To do my work or I'll be lost

Can't have that now at my own cost

 

So I return to the vehicle

Luckily today I didn't cycle

To retrieve my cherished, beloved and innocent phone

...

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When I met her as a happy wanderer

Navigating from places to places

I did told her I had nothing to offer

But the simple comfort of my chest

 

To this she looked at me smiling

“Hey you adventurer”, she told me

“You’re the one I have been waiting,

Home I don’t need, free I want to be”

 

“The road is a paved way to paradise,

Like the snail my house is this bag,

I ...

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Once I bought a bird in a shop

I opened the cage and let him be

For a flying happiness I’d hope

To let the stars witness it’s free

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Why do we always end up in the place where we began?

Why is it freedom fades away and dies in every land?

 

I think the problem lies within the reason why we fight,

for it is not to win the war then stand guard day and night

 

with vigilance. No sadly this is not the cause at all,

and so the stage is set that every time we rise we fall.

 

Yes, time has shown we do not fi...

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Most people have a lot,

most have a list

of gidgets and gadgets

and trinkets to buy.

 

It’s just human nature

there’s no harm in this,

but lately

I’m wondering why.

 

For as I’ve grown older

I have realized

(I’ve had to,

for it is a matter of fact).

 

While caring for all of

these things that I prize,

everything I own…

owns me right back.

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Let the wolves run

I run faster

Let the wolves run 

I am stronger

Sure of myself 

I flex the muscles of my mind

No need to hide

I expel hexes in one breath,

You may not enter

Nor commit the theft 

Of my soul

You are uninvited 

Release the hatred from your heart

Vengeance is a waste of energy

To be enlightened is to be smart 

And rise above, rise!

I a...

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mutilation,
they call it.

mutilation,
like i’m a butcher
in search of meat to cleave,
and rather than stain my knife
on the skins of bleating livestock
or sweat over a hunt or chase,
i choose the path of least resistance:
myself, my flesh, my matter—
so naïve and unknowing,
defenceless in the face of change.

mutilation,
as if the weight
i mean to carve away
isn’t unwelcome or di...

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Feathers stuck in the cage

Yet melody that soothes

Watching her flying friends

Spreading wings in the sky stage

Giving the luxury life

With food and shelter

No worries of hunt or hunter

Living with the broken wings alive

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