"Stranger" (October 2000)
The sun has set.
The waves lap at my feet,
The sky is overcast, and a freezing wind
Warns of an approaching gale.
Yet I keep walking.
To where? No man knows.
My body aches, my feet sink ever deeper
Into the wet sand, heavy as lead.
Suddenly a glimmer of life...
A silver gull lands before me.
It looks at me; first with one eye, then the other.
I stare back.
There is a eternity of tension...
The bird nervously moves its head from side to side.
I mutter something to break the silence.
Eventually, a moment of understanding,
Perhaps a glimpse of a shared fate, a shared beauty, a shared joy.
I can almost feel its heart beating.
I take a step forward, but...
It flies away, as quickly as it came.
And so I keep walking.
"Sisyphus" (November 2000)
A rare moment of calm,
As I drift helpless upon the waves.
My eyes sting, my arms are weary;
My feet flail, desperate for solid ground.
And as I glance longingly towards the shore...
A giant breaker pounces from behind,
Zeus strikes me down like a villain.
I tumble helplessly, a million times.
Yet there is now a strange tranquillity;
The great ocean holds my life in its arms.
I drift to and fro in the silence,
Feeling its great sighs of loneliness.
Not knowing which way is up, but believing.
Finally, I surface. I take a breath...
Only to be pounded again.
And so I wonder:
Why do I come up for air,
Each day?
"3 am" (October 2000)
The night seems endless.
The frustration, the pain, well up inside my head.
I feel like screaming,
I feel like crying,
I feel like tearing my hair out.
I toss and turn... faster and faster...
I spring out of bed and run outside.
But the cage goes with me...
There is no escape.
Consciousness is a curse.
Every moment I am aware of my own inadequacies,
I feel embarassed about my actions and desires...
My meagre form wandering uninvited.
I rearrange my hair again.
And as three o'clock ticks by,
I am still lying here, wishing...
Praying for a more compassionate world,
Hoping... in vain.
"Beautiful People" (August 2004)
You and I are beautiful people.
Yet the world conspires against us;
We are condemned to act in a strange comedy,
In which our emotions are pitted against one another,
In which the truth is too often taboo,
In which beauty is skin deep,
And money is success.
In this unnatural world,
We cannot help but blunder;
Despite our best intents,
And because of them.
Therefore, I beseech you,
Do not hurt your enemy -
You too could be playing his part.
Look into his eyes,
And seek to understand him.
And when you truly understand him,
You will love him, as you yourself.
"Shattered" (January 2005)
Hope.
The flame in our hearts.
The crystal ball we cling to,
A dream we cherish.
Lost.
Extinguished.
Shattered - into a million pieces.
Gone with the wind.
"The One" (September 2006)
Will she come on a golden stallion,
Her hair dancing in a magical breeze?
Or will she come in a silver chariot,
Her skin bathed in the light of the moon?
Will the oceans part before her,
Will there be a guiding star?
She is travelling far, from a distant kingdom,
But how will I know that she is the One?
"The Climber" (April 2007)
A weary climber, on a gargantuan cliff,
Sweating in the heat of the midday sun.
Carrying the burden of a lifetime of being,
Each move more laboured than the last.
The gods conspire against his boldness;
Waiting for that one mistake
That he is doomed to make.
And so it is, he starts to slip,
His arms lash out, he snatches at
A branch protruding from a crack —
A brief respite. Time naps, for an instant.
— alas,
The branch is weak, it cannot hold,
The weight of a thousand sorry woes.
The branch gives way, and — so it goes.
And he goes tumbling;
Tumbling,
Tumbling.
Into despair.
"The Garden of Desperate Hope" (July 2007)
The hope, the love, the fear, the pain,
Surge wildly through these veins;
The raging currents ebb and throb,
And trumpet loudly: this is life!
And yet, outside the castle walls,
The world is dead, the elixir drained.
The watchmen pace their graveyard shift,
Gazing out on wailing plains.
Approach the fortress, if you dare,
Come close, my friend, and you may hear,
The whispered words, the anguished sighs,
Effusing from the lonely walls.
Reaching out for fleeting meanings,
Like wisps of fog they linger briefly,
Then lose their form and disappear.
Only silence persists eternally.
Oh, that the rivers might be loosed,
The dams destroyed, the truth set free,
The world engulfed in blinding sight,
And searing understanding. What then,
Would men make war against each other?
Could they ignore the plight of brothers?
Who would be so quick to judge?
When they themselves stand naked.
Alas, this Eden seems remote,
But the mind is free to roam;
Dismantling levees brick by brick,
I dream of fertile fields.
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