man in dream
his dragon still loose
new and old as time
*Porsche Macan picture by PORSCHE
time that was
puffs of memory
maze of bewildered yesterdays
mistory, — misty, the color of yore
meaning beyond time
meaning as flavor, essence and wine
the touch of love
your look, my sun
rain in the morning
sweat on the sheets
stained is my heart
– but unfazed its beat
parched for life
defining the now
well-nigh a clone
human raindrop or sand grain
from laughter to reason
– a return ticket for life’s season
a packed of rays
instructions in smoke
stuck in the ancestral harbour
– with other anchored souls
imbibing with Nodding Lost & Co, not for rescue,
– but clueless suggestions where not to go
confirmation of mistakes
misses to missus and miss again
lessons of regret
missing, — spot on
regardless, you’re born to be great
align your want with who you are
want not what you are not
come home to yourself
– and find your place taken
dream sans the ego
a collarless pet
yo-yo in freedom
your leash of fate is unlikely to snap
too strong coffee
cream on my thoughts
foam through my pen
sweet words to read
stretching my reach
life in a pill
add tears and soul
try not to die and grow
dilute your ideas and you’ll miss them
deny them not and they could manifest
between forgetting and trying is life
live for no thing but you
another line Snow White?
another dream with you
go not for long
life could end tonight
Life is about sitting on an egg, — partially.
When you’re sitting on top of an egg,
– and be honest, I think we are all trying to hatch something, –
and nothing happens for too long,
there is something wrong with the egg you’re sitting on.
Nothing is wrong with you, — of course not.
You did your time and probably more than was necessary.
No bird sits on an egg longer than they intrinsically know they have to, and neither should we.
If you want to bring something about:
change your circumstance, change your beingness.
If nothing happens,
get off and find another egg.
If you water a seed or seedling and it doesn’t grow,
you don’t continue indefinitely, do you?
There must be a benefit; else, what are you doing it for?
Maybe herein lies the problem:
We are the egg and the hen.
Between being both we get side-tracked.
We hen around when we should also egg around.
And both hen and egg have a best before date too.
Or, perhaps our egg got swapped while we were inattentive or in cloud-cuckoo-land. We might be sitting on a dinosaur egg that takes epochs to hatch,
and we only have a human lifetime.
Another more sinister reason could be that there is no egg for us. A hiccup in nature, an oversight, or perhaps a deliberate message of:
“You are wasting your time here, you should be somewhere else, sorry (hu)man, internal error, – reboot.”
I don’t think sitting on an egg is that much fun,
especially when the dream of what that egg was supposed to become has lost its verve.
In the process of incubation and brooding, you have probably also attracted a severe bout of eggshaustion.
Rest is advised but time is limited because it is now already ‘time minus one egg’.
Time and eggs clearly have some agreement.
Maybe ten time units are one egg unit, or who knows?
And, you are entering into major guesswork as to how many time and egg units are available to you.
At this stage of disillusionment with reality and eggs, you might want to run away to an island and just hangout and relax.
When that escape starts feeling like another egg, is it now the right egg? There’s nobody really around that could answer that question. Eggvisors are few and far between, if not entirely mythical. And, other islanders egging it out don’t strike you as the right reference model.
It is not inconceivable that at this moment you might decide,
“WTF, I’ll just grab an egg that looks nice and sit on it and see.”
The point is that when that first egg doesn’t hatch
and we finally decide to move on to another egg,
unless some inbuilt direction finder kicks in
and sets our compass pointing north again in our life,
we could become abandoned eggs or hens without a head.
Now, the second (nth) time around,
we have to apply extra amped-up effort and employ every ounce of skill and wisdom to bring our life together and make sense of it,
— and not accept a watered-down make-believe or a shortlived fake brochure version, —
so we can find that satisfaction which is inherent when our right egg hatches.
My heart screams. My brain finds no rest.
I have to speak out, and simultaneously I condemn any ridiculous arguments that attempt to justify harming even ONE human being in the process.
(i.e. It is absurd to assume that everyone nearing the fence in the Gaza strip is a Hamas terrorist?)
I see mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters and loved ones in hellish agony. All of this has found echo in my head. Images of the affected in this progressive hate saga between Israelis & Palestinians continually interrupt my whole stream of consciousness when awake and asleep.
The future is for the young first, and only then it is for the rest of us. Alas, there is no future in this case. There is only hate and pain and segregation. Known also as Apartheid, this system forcefully singles out a group of people in the most demeaning, derogatory, insensitive, insulting and inhumane way. As is proven once more here, such systems are upheld by the powerful and the victims are depicted as the villains, who one has to be protected from at all cost, even by murder.
The world is mostly ruled by the old and stubborn who don’t waver from their stance and who continually garner support for what they think is the rightful cause, bending the ear of those who elected them.
When rulers bring war and destruction and hate instead of wisdom, love and peace, then you know they are the wrong leaders.
My roots reach deep into two countries: South Africa and Germany. Both have experienced the worst of humanity. The rainbow also doesn’t shine every day in our rainbow nation but the rainbow will forever be in our minds when we remember the atrocities of the past.
An answer can never be found in war, fences, concentration camps and human abuse.
Also, no answers are found when these leaders sit together because they will never agree as long as they insist on playing chess.
The solution lies with the young and innocent and the dreamers, thinkers and innovators.
They have to sit together and define what they want because the world belongs to them, and not to the warring, dead of conscience fanatics tainted with the brush of history, self-righteousness and other ills.
Analysing history, as we are known to do, should teach us how to deal with the future. Why don’t we get it?
All naysayers out there have a closer look at the miraculous, peaceful transformation of South Africa.
Where there is a will there is a way!
What is immediately required is a human bridge, an influx of support from all nations to stand with the oppressed, confused and petrified.
“Bring the future back to those who have lost it.”
I call on all in the world, young and old, to do this for those who suffer.
The promise of life only exists if you have a future.
“A denied future is dead life.”
Could any conscience live with such a thought any longer than a moment, let alone decades?
Let there be a human curtain made out of every living fabric that says: ‘Stop and change.’
Dismantle the barricades, the obstructions, the walls and fences and melt the ice of the frozen.
The time to forcefully exclude and deny has no space in the 21st century.
Here is an appeal to the big operators, profit-machines, life-changers, innovators and altruists and philanthropists, to dedicate a paragraph in a chapter of their book in their life to aid in solving this human catastrophe now. The affected parties can’t solve it: the UN can’t, and other nations can’t but the people of the world can. Some things are beyond governing bodies; they are in the individual hands of humanity across all and any divide.
This is an appeal to all the young and spirited and compassionate, — who cannot sleep another night just like I at 0230 this morning, — to create a tsunami, an avalanche, an eruption of change through their presence and their voice.
Let the airlines offer free tickets for this human cause. Let the food companies and all industries that make huge profits provide shelter and food for those heeding the cause.
Let it be a humanitarian evolution. Call it the Sunrise of Humanity. Let all nations congregate where weapons currently decide human fate. Let the flags of 190+ nations stare down any aggression from either side.
Will you shoot my flag?
May every soldier with a weapon become aware not only of the responsibility to his country/people but also the responsibility to humanity.
Could you bear the burden for the rest of your life of being a traitor to any one of them?
Let us be part of this movement lest we want to be judged for non-action when our conscience faces its last breath.
Do something. Anything. Everybody, do it. Make music, write, paint, go there…,we have to roll that drama over and bring those, who had the unimaginable happen in the life of their ancestors, to the realization of their inhumane actions. History is wagging a very irritated finger.
My old Zulu friend Jameson ‘Umkuhlu’ Mthembu speaks from deep within his wise soul when he says,
“Don’t put a fridge by your heart,”
…not for longer than a few hours or at most a day or two.
“Everyone: your time is up,”
that is quite obvious to all and yourself.
One of the critical human lessons and actions towards progress is that you have to put ‘stuff’ behind you in order to move forward. — Do it!
It is time to defrost.
*Picture from AFP on http://www.spiegel.de
He believed, then doubted, then died it Creativity was his door to become more Poetry and prose were the tears that he cried, and he toiled with the question: What was it all for? Doubt was the dust infiltrating even his purest intention Now he lies spent like rain in the grass, tears on a tissue, lipstick on a glass Not even the universe affords him attention He always believed too much, and proof was never important as such If he liked it, he deemed it to be true, even if experts were cleverer and knew His world, perhaps, was slightly askew Belief was like a train: Up front the idea, creditability and fame …so far so good Followed by wagons of responsibilities, too many to name …that was the drudge Suddenly a yardstick emerged with which he was judged (his ideas) Yes, he believed a lot But, certainly didn’t want to be put on the spot for that which he called ‘the smoke from his pot’ It wasn’t religion or philosophy or such, they were ideas, life’s attempts at art with a smudge Believing was more like following a trail Not weighing each thought or step on a scale T'was an indication of an approximate direction, and was prone to frequent correction Believing and doubting were forever composing, One minute blissfully flying over harmonies crest, euphorically losing control in the zest and then, crashing into the trough of Wagner’s gloomiest best He was cog and engine in a perpetually opposing quest Shattered belief, triumphant doubt, sometimes one or the other acted out A farmer of conflict, a dreamer of hope, ever the next wave of life should puzzle it out Liberally sown by doubt the seeds of conflict abound That’s why believing in dreams is so very allowed But, dreams are also the food which conflict gobbles to sprout and once it has grown it smothers the dreams so they lose the belief in their own If life was nurtured by believing in dreams, no matter how irrational they seemed and doubt destroys them with such might undoubdetly, he thought, he had just died