Everything is similar, if you look long enough,
Everyone one is familiar, if you are willing to reign in your prejudices enough,
We all have a common bond, if you can bring yourself to accept that,
The true devider is opportunity, or the lack thereof;
My friend, are you willing to concede me that?
A thought process,
Seated and taking a turn on a merry-go-round,
Like a child,
Watching the world go by,
Your discovery,
Interacting,
And seeing the world you have born it into,
For the first time.
News of a parent’s ill health,
Left me feeling like a child again,
Sitting on a parameter wall,
In my primary school uniform,
Swinging my lunch box this way ‘n’ that,
Waiting to be picked up;
With the feeling that no one is coming creeping in,
Can you be in your 30s and still feel like an orphan?
The world will not understand,
But, you may.
Swimming beneath the surface of clear blue turquoise waters,
The gentle current above casting a muriel of sunlit patterns, up and down the length of you;
As you emerge carrying a conch shell picked up trawling the seabed,
More pebbles of sea water seem to hang onto your sun kissed bikini body,
Choosing to melt away than let go;
Like the attention of passers by,
Everything seems to have second thoughts letting go of you!
Can’t blame ’em:
It’s like watching a rare natural phenomenon;
You’ve turned this borderline saint into a full-fledged sinner with that body,
And I’d take a pass on a eternity of heaven,
To have another go on the merry-go-round with you,
She’s like the finest ice cream you’ve ever tasted,
With every look and smile cast your way, like biting into chocolate bits,
Would you give up chocolate to reserve your place in heaven?
I didn’t think so!
If the true default of man is chaos,
And all the artificial laws in the world are to reign in this nature,
Is not the real idol worthy of worship in this world: opportunity?
And, common courtesy:
To do with it what you will in good faith rather than ill will.
Whispers of the wind,
Carry across chasms,
Leaving lines etched on folds of sand,
Marking out the relief of dunes,
Steps, carved out in the shape of sand-snakes,
Traversing vast deserts;
Bearing imprints of the echo,
Left by the cries of the earth,
Leaving their mark,
Like reverberations of experience,
Casting lines of wisdom to adorn your face,
Gradually increasing their relief,
As you age.
Two young souls,
Each, in their own right:
Possessing unrestrained beauty,
Unleashed in a single glance,
Potent enough to shatter glass,
And liquify the fragments,
When they find each other,
As lovers do;
They create a thing of beauty far greater than their individual parts;
In that moment-
For life is but a series of moments attached to a bolas-
They can turn half the mortal world to jelly, with their story;
If only a moment, was not just a moment;
And, could be stretched to a lifetime;
A feat, very few have the patience to achieve,
As Romeo and Juliette found out, alas.
You have to leave your town,
To know how big your country is,
You have to leave your country,
To know how large the world is,
We have to leave this world,
To truly understand how big the universe is,
We need to face mortality,
To realise how short and beautiful life is.
Woman is the cause,
Woman is the problem,
Woman is the solution,
Without women however,
Life is a non-immersive experience;
Women can however become an addiction,
Patronising as it may seem, here lies the problem:
If women were a drug,
It would explain a lot:
For, a few drugs are good for you,
Others are not,
Some are only to be experienced in proportion,
And, women, will probably say:
The same is also true of men, I’d imagine!