Tag: Poetry

We hold hands as we fall asleep
The illusion of togetherness
When consciousness slips away
Each wanders alone
Into a world no one else can reach
Until the morning brings us together again

How are we able to be this way?
To live in several places all at once
Here and there and back again
The present, the past and always the future
And the undefined space in-between that our dreams take us to

Let the morning come so I can find you
Dreams no longer comfort me
The heart deceives and the night hides truth
Light up the sky so I can see clearly
The present is where I want to dwell

Don’t let me fall asleep tonight
Not whilst the moon is incomplete
Sit with me a little while
Let’s watch the moonlight go to bed

Sometimes it’s the days that give birth to the nights
Sometimes nothing shines brighter than the break of dusk
Don’t let me fall asleep tonight
I want to go into the night with you

Some nights I wake up in a cold sweat
Because time is flying
And I, without wings am left behind
With memories
As vivid as the picture of you
Staring at a portrait of me
And you

Pictures freeze time, put it in a capsule
But the smell of your hair that night
The warmth of your hands
The frost in your eyes
That is for the poet to recall
She knows you best at 4am

Who knew this day would come?
You and me in a bar in Rue de Chateau
Your hands have looked the same since we were young
That is all I recognise
Perhaps I too froze you in a capsule
Rode on time’s wings and left you behind

Well you must have broken free somehow
The you in my memories is not the same
Your hair, it’s grey, it doesn’t smell the same
As it did the night you said goodbye
Only the poet can recollect
The things we lost in the noise of time

The years build up, time runs away
Leaving me behind like a train on tracks
I could run after it, or I could wait here
And wonder if by any chance I could just go back
Take the gifts with me and leave the burdens behind

Rage can take its toll
It’s when it starts to fade that the light begins to die
When the willingness to fight dissolves to weariness
And the rage no longer feels like a house on fire
But a slight nudge on the shoulder from a stranger passing by

Surrender is liberating but surrender is cold
It fills empty rooms with words left unsaid
As it resigns to a knowing that nothing will ever change
‘Don’t let the light go out’ they say
But the train is gone and I am weary
I cannot run after it, not tonight.

Ugliness has a face, has a spirit
Ugliness has a hand, that strikes down the innocent

Ugliness has a mother
And a father
Perhaps a sister and a brother
Perhaps even a lover, maybe even a friend

After you’ve lifted your hand
And struck the woman and the child
When you’ve beaten the man to a pulp
And left them all crippled or dead

Who do you go home to?
Who loves you?
Who do you love?

Is ugliness a mask that you take off?
Do you look like this when you wake up in the morning?
Or when you go to sleep at night?

What kinds of things do you dream of?
What did you dream of when you were young?
Was it this?

We tricked in, one by one
Each one of us looking for something
An abducted brother, an arrested father
Food for a mother, fees for a child
We were like lost strangers who have always belonged together
In our brokenness we became more than a people
We became a choir of stories
Stories that composed different verses of the same song
A song for Freedom!
And when we finally held hands and sang
With a single united shout
The chains fell, shattered
Freedom!

The leaders we chose, they sit on a throne
They look down on us, as stars do from the sky
They watch us weep, dirt poor and hungry
They force open our hands, snatch a little more

The leaders we chose, they have taken it all
Freedom, dignity and the dreams of our youth
They have placed greed where excellence used to live
And brutality, where peace used to dwell

When we march in peace and demand our lives back
Rage rains on us like a ball of fire
They beat us, they kill us, they torture our brothers
But as trees by still waters, we stand and fight on
And watch…
The end of terror
Like watching…
The final kicks of a dying horse.

Sometimes when you go to sleep
I stay awake to find myself
But mostly, I watch you snore away in peace
Like watching the beating of my own heart
Trying to remember
What I thought love was before you

Silence, blackness, me in the middle
Slowly and surely my dream comes back
When in that sweet silence I sat inclined
To seek the companion who grieves in my absence
Who claps at my presence like a friend for another
A heart  for its owner, a ship for its captain
Loneliness is a blessing when the heart has much to say.

And so I listened to the dreams that I had
Like a mother to a child, afraid to see her fall
A mind to a heart, to counsel and nurture
“Dream less,” she said “lest you are dreaming alone”
My heart in pain looked up and said
“But whom I love I’ve given all”
Does love come back in that same form?