Monthly Archives: June 2015

Time is merely a passerby.

Time is merely a passerby
it watches as we diverge
or converge into and onto people
How poignant to think
that we won’t be the same
in the years to come
and weren’t in the ones gone by.
They tell me to look forward
and not worry about the ghosts
but how much I would love
to just stand there
and reflect on the summation and superposition
of life, universe and everything.


Nothing Has to Happen.

I’m just standing here
in the middle of the road
the traffic blurs around me
nothing has to happen
the winds are howling
the gravel is still wet
from the teardrops of rain
the traffic waltzes around me
nothing has to happen
nothing else has to happen.

The Traveller.

Once upon a time
there was a traveller
whose feet were shackled
to a wooden pole on a dock
and an anchor tied to his waist
and everyday he’d watch the ships
depart for places, destinations and journeys
Vietnam, Jamaica, Cuba and Chile et al.
Eventually he fell in love with the dock
the bustle of the morning
the brawny sailors and their promised
who’d sometimes bid farewell
and the opposite too
the occasional storms
and the hush that followed when
one day that body came floating by
and the intricacies of the construction he now saw
and the lighthouse that was a wonder of the world
at night, especially at night
he fell in love with the beauty of it all
he wanted to live his life out here now
and one day his eyes wandered down
and didn’t find the shackles and the anchor.

I melt into a knife.

melt into a sharp knife
and stab in the dark
And I am a self conscious knife
and undoubtedly questions emerge
is there a purpose to my life?
sitting pretty in the cutlery
or be driven through a heart
the pulp of tomatoes
or haemoglobin?
the red is washed off in the sink
the red dries off after a while
and isn’t nearly as exciting
I have thought and thought
and I guess both get monotonous after a while.