A Life Meandered


How much is real, how much imagined?

I see a life as one great tangent.

Swayed by diamonds near and far

We stumble through this grand bazaar

– You clutch a jewel, it falls apart –

The fragments glazed in sullied gold

Reassemble, twist and fold,

Beget a better dream to chase

What value has time left to waste?


Inspired by what scares us most

We toss and turn, live and learn

Stake our claim on goods unearned,

Before some certain pain and strife

Unfolds, dumb fear will swell to life

A fearsome scourge to gauge foresight,

To pass one must abandon choice

So grant your inner will its voice

The road not taken irks no heart

Who has rare strength to make a start.


New associations, new determinations,

Ending strangulations,

Your peace requires patience.


The Apology


I rest here, on trite fears

While millions starve, some die awake

Then billions claim no move to make

“It’s not my fault, no one’s in charge”,

So who will mend our worldly ills?

Not I, there is no time to kill

Not I, my worth exceeds goodwill.

What noble way of life is this?

What self-conceited lie is this?


I lie bare, with scant care

For lives no different from my own

Adrift in time and space and face

Yet sharing social aspect sewn

Through banal acts, ideas retraced

If only we could make it known:

That damning void which warps our pace

By faith in man can be outgrown.


In moral ways I’m remonstrated

A lack of purpose demonstrated

With loveless dreams which ooze and tease

Happy glimpses hard to seize,

So here I bid to start anew

Wrong actions skew your point of view,

One life in search of what is Great

Is all I need to right my fate.

End of the Road


With no account of wasted time

Though left for dead and past his prime

He pawed at laws we strain to see

(Twice the soul we’d rather be),

To quell the haunting howl of hope

Evokes this sentimental slope:

To stay saves neither him nor thee

To go, shy tears, his home shall be

No more.


Such short success; no time to rest

His fate awaits in humble dress,

But each plot placed against the grain

Resuscitates a paltry pain

(Some selfish joys to confess)


The past which seemed so present

Slinks back into rogue desert

Then like our moon; that winking eye

His life force wanes; he chokes a sigh

Absolved by clear endearing sky,

Where he lies now we have no clue

Though rest assured, he lives through you.

A Short Ode to the Countryside


Take me far away from here

To where the sun falls late and cool streams run clear,

Quaint townsfolk graced with a comforting air

Greet you with pleasure each day of the year.


The grass is always better

Where wild cattle graze unfettered,

The sweet scent of pine suits me just fine

As our fragrant dreams are untethered.


Reveal to me that place you love

Just south of the river but known only to one,

Where the birds and the bees make way for real needs

Spooked by dominant peaks poised above.


Procure for me one hint of gold

Beyond a system that’s rigged on sick sorrows of old,

When the duel of ideas is conquered by fear

We escape to create a new mould.

Waiting Patiently for Death


Once more that filthy sense of dread

Creeps up your spine from heel to head

As all you crave is love returned

By now you’ve learned you’re always spurned,

This plight infects the greatest men

They too perceive our hope as sin

The tragedy of phantasy: the unkempt mediocrities

None of us are ready.


Years pilfered by our TV screens

Who are you now? Where have you been?

Malignant shades of slivered time

– the days, the weeks, the months float by –

Not once occurs the question: WHY?

Wanting more but reaping less

Afraid to live we cling to death.


A symphony of questions; the calamity of answers

Somewhere lies the melody; interspersed with enmity

So open wide that feckless shell

And ponder here your living hell…


How does one ‘stop’ without a start?

How does one choose from worlds apart?

Why live when love arouses jest?

How does one trust a failing heart?

So why not claim eternal rest?

Why seek to solve such grand abstractions

When all we glean are rough extractions?


Waiting patiently for death

We hoard our fears within a nest

Of fickle wants and swollen cares

When schemes we weave begin to tear…

When each path grazes mass despair…

The life you leave is your nightmare.

A Cruel and Costly Servitude


A retrospective servitude.

For every day you drift in brood

(every day you have to lose)

– Not once –

Is respite truly found

– Not once –

Does modern life abound

Beyond a poignant interlude

Of oversight and rash miscue

(beguiled by Catch 22),

A retrospective schadenfreude.


Devoid of want with naught to do

You long to be transported to

A finer time, a brighter place

You wish you were another face:

A clone fed with all new memories;

New loves, new friends, new enemies,

New aims, new fears, new destinies.


A greater task lies out there,

To thin your life from false care

Forsakes that precious chance to change

Small lives which lift your hope, and praise

Perpetual risks you face, through pains

To reignite our empathy; to reinstate equality.

They strengthen you. You strengthen them.


This world lays bare, but for your will

A gift to nurture idle land,

Yet pawns of habit seek to kill

Aspirations forged in sand

Though by their hand one may fulfill

The noble dream unique to man:

Community of fortitude,

Freedom from our servitude.

My Passing Soulmate


Grappling with false memories

I cherished her, she treasured me

– We thought our love was meant to be –

Few days well spent, the rest in mope

She held no clue she wore my hope

In every tame, unbroken stare

Past every vain and vexing fear,

A cure for all but absent dreams

The fix for tangled life which teemed

With fatal self-destruction.

She was the cure.


The irony was perfect.


At the fringe of her expression

Emerging blank but thinly veiled

Lurked years of stifled torment

I knew her feeling well.

In me she claimed a saviour

Yet she was always mine,

Together we’d take flight

– But spluttered

Embedded in delusion

Distracted from dark times.


The union was perfect.


When now and then we parted ways

Acquiescing Fate as if to say:

“Our lives are yours to give and take

But please erase this placid haze”

The chains between us soon gave way

Releasing forth the prize remains:

A fond memory to fall for;

A blithe reverie to chase.


The fantasy was perfect.


Caught within Fate’s temporal walls

I’ve lost her soul, she’s lost my call.

On days of pain unbearable

I question if she cares at all

Or if she hears each tear which falls

On vacant space that should be hers

Two victims of an aimless curse.


The tragedy was perfect.


The urge to form a lighter tune

To span the rift from me to you

Arises strong but cowers deep

Plagued by seeds we now can’t reap:

Years of rich, unfettered youth,

The reality feels too uncouth.

Yet some solace survives…


Her memory endures.