Remember the slums

Khayelitsha,
Kibera, Orangi Town

Wakeful the night, robbed of its sleep
hunger and fear and pointless the tear
a man and a cat prowling the street
paw-print in mud, squealing and blood
hiding away under a sheet
gunshot and scream, then comes a thud
violence by dark the truth is so stark

Dharavi, Neza-Chalco-Itza, Rocinha,
Manshiet

play the day

A day has died.

          (nothing changes)

  When I wake up my day is born
  For sixteen hours then I blow the horn
  I want to plug my mind into another source
    and believe I have access to a hidden force

       (a voice calls “change it”)

   To leave the mundane behind
   Stop leading a life so blind
     in what has become the perpetual grind
     and a dis-ease infecting my mind

       (on the cusp of change)

   Jump onto dreams, not one but three
   Climb ever higher up my flame tree
   To be free and unobstructed see
   Touching the blue reality
   Unlocking life with my unique key

           (embracing change)

   Now, never more and with pressing resolve,
     before my wings retract with fear
   I am heading for another hemisphere
     upon a tune only I can hear,
     clearly ready to evolve

              (change)

   The sacrilege of losing another day
   A blasphemy if I would stay
   There is no other way
   I am flying without delay
   Now I can play 
   I love my day

   Let's play and play my beautiful day

burning with you

your weight, so light
my body against yours so tight
an urgency in parting
once more you pull me close
then I will leave
you whisper please don’t go
innocent and curious this night
we have till dawn
only the candle knows
and when the cuckoo calls
again I shall run on
to shine this fairy tale
across another page
and when my glow becomes a burn
open the book and I’ll return

Pizza-base of happiness

What is (longterm) happiness reliant on?
On me being happy of course.
However, basing happiness on something/someone has a catch. When that something disappears, happiness goes with it.
Soever a bad idea.

Definitely, happiness is amped when I have what I want, and I wouldn’t want to live without what I wanted because that makes me happy.
Want – have – happiness, not-happiness, want – have – happiness, not-happiness, want …
The frequency of life. Roll-er-coast-er.

I pursue happiness. I run after it. Sometimes I catch it. I find that ‘…happiness…’ and I am ecstatically happy. Forever. Yeah really! — ?
I’ve got health, job, girl, cabriolet, aircraft, house, money galore, — G-d am I happy, over the moon. I float in transcendence.
Alas, that is a fleeting ecstasy. It’s a pill. Pills’ effect is not lasting.
Health gone, happiness gone.
Job gone, happiness gone. Girl gone, happiness gone. Cabriolet stolen, happiness gone. Aircraft crashed, happiness gone. House repossessed, happiness gone.
Everything gone, happiness gone with it.

Not being happy doesn’t necessarily infer that I am deadly, depressingly unhappy, but to me, not-happiness would be somewhat vegetating along. What’s the point? To get through a crisis and then find happiness?

Isn’t it that the accomplishment after the successful pursuit of pleasure makes us feel happy? Ahh, satisfaction. The consequence of taking a ‘pleasure pill’ is, well, pleasure, and that’s when I’m truly happy.
Uh, that word truly. Rampantly, crazy happy. Really? Or just overboard, cloud-nine walking till the novelty wears off?

Real, lasting, unblemished happiness is the product of the deliberate thought, “I am happy,” without a condition.
There is no “I am happy if… or when…” there just is “I am happy.”
You gotta beeee happy, you can’t find it. You create it by saying that you are. You instantiate, actualize, effect and realize it.

Wait a sec. How can that be? I need my sailboat to be happy. I need my Yorky to be happy. I need, I need…to be happy. You gotta be kidding me with this “I am happy,” unfinished sentence.
Maybe the great sages can be happy without any condition, but I, hmm?

And yet, whenever I think about it, and lately more often, I think being happy is a disposition, like a pizza base. I need to create the base. Tomato, cheese, olives, and artichokes without a base to put on are like pills, but, when you provide the base you have a real meal in your hands.
A base of happiness garnished with the ingredients of my liking. Now my mouth is watering and life is dancing. Scrumptious stuff.
Unattached and still happy, yeah, and then heap on the blessings.
Don’t just think it, say it out loud,

“I am happy, I am happy, I am happy.”

Now I’ve just created the base.
Words are expressively powerful.

Saying “I am happy” eliminates the desperation to find happiness by pursuing evermore garnishings.
Having an unconditionally happy base, being unarguably happy, un-joggle-able, allows me to gather my focus onto that which is important to me. The amusing thing is that suddenly I don’t want a thousand things anymore but literally just a few, — to make a really delicious pizza of my life.

Happiness is such a solidly good base that any decision reached in that state of happiness can only lead to more of the same.

Happiness from outside is makeup. Admittedly beautifying life immensely, but it washes off. Happiness from within is an unshakeable foundation.

Let’s all set our human cruise control to “I am happy.”
Imagine the impact of all us happy people in the world?
Staggering.