Saturday, October 08, 2011
Thursday, March 12, 2009
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.
And no-one called us to the land
And no-one knows the wheres or whys
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb towards the light
Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can
And no-one calls us to move on
And no-one forces down our eyes
And no-one speaks and no-one tries
And no-one flies around the sun
Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes
inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning
And no-one sings me lullabies
And no-one makes me close my eyes
And so I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky
Monday, March 02, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Friday, November 28, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
'Just take a right at the road from the restaurant ma'am'.
I saw one old cycle lying beside. It had a torn seat, a rusted chain sprocket and the front wheel and the lock were missing. How it came to be in such a situation is beyond my analyzing powers. I waited for a week and saw that no one had even bothered to pick it up. Lifted it; it fit neatly on to the hub of my front tyre. Tightened the nuts, unlocked the 'new' bicycle and took it home. Justice is served.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
My art is in charcoal - black and white.
The colour of my composite materials - black and white.
The people of my resident country - black and white.
What's a colourful person like me doing here?
Which reminds me of a black man's poem I read somewhere:
When I born, I black,
When I grow up, I black,
When I go in sun, I black,
When I cold, I black,
When I scared, I black,
When I sick, I black,
And when I die, I still black.
You white folks....
When you born, you pink,
When you grow up, you white,
When you go in sun, you red,
When you cold, you blue,
When you scared, you yellow,
When you sick, you green,
When you bruised, you purple,
And when you die, you gray.
So who you calling colored folks???
How would it be like to stand at this tip of northern Russia and stare at the outstretched emptiness in front of me? Heh, I would rather have this void in front of me than in me.