Hold my hands

Please hold my hand
For it is cold and tired
Lead me through the maze of Love
Be gentle with my heart
For in it, are the things I hold dearest
Guide my steps through the fields of life
And over the jagged rocks that trouble me,
Lift me up. Lift me from the rough
For I am weak and desire rest for a moment
My feet are blistered and my toes are screaming
Would you be a darling, and tend to them
Let me know what the arms of care feel like a little longer

Do not let me slip from you
For I will be lost in this field of emotions
Hold my hands. Hold them tight
For I can feel the tug, pulling me away
The beckoning from east to left have grown persuasive
My heart seems to wonder fast
Hold me tight and lead me on
Please, be patient and guide me gently
Do not let your graciousness ebb away
For you are wary and out of breath
You avert my eyes and your smile is feigned
For your zeal is breaking under the pressure of my needfulness

Please hold my hand and guide me through this maze of Love
For they are weak and tired, and you are my only salvation

Nonexistence

If one did not exist, another will in no way miss one
For another will have no knowledge, therefore another cannot miss one
One cannot have an emotion towards that which never was
One cannot comprehend that which does not exist
One therefore, does not feel ignorance for what does not exist.
For ignorance is not knowing, of that which exists

So can one posses knowledge of that which is not?
Can the mind fathom or conceive of that which is not?
Is fiction not the culmination of wishes and reality?
For the mind projects a distant time and its entities.
Not its impossibilities. Just a time without a map
A distant time with the faintest connection to now. Fiction

Therefore the none existence in not ignorance
For it is not an absence of knowledge
The nonexistence, neither lies within or without the boundaries of knowledge
For the nonexistent is not a knowing, or non-knowing
It is a state in and of itself. A state where comprehension cannot peek
For comprehension has no access

Alas, I ask again.
Would one miss a person, whom never existed?
Can one’s heart Long for another who does not exist?
For is not the non-existence the simple complexity one is incapable of comprehending?
For in non-existence, no memory of one is?
No emptiness or grief. No knowledge of, or ignorance of.

Therefore in a bid to grasp the hypothesis of non-existence
If our being was not, no existence, never been,
Where one can not be missed for one never existed
A world void of one,
Can the life of one be looked upon by one
And appreciated for it individuality if one existed?

Fences on the way to heaven

I built fences on the way to heaven
For my path to righteousness must be secure
I set these walls on my way to glory
For my walk from salvation is divine and acclaimed

I built barricades on my way to glory
For why should another come in on a different path
I set the path to eternity
My walk is steadfast and in my step shall all men follow

I guard this road to heaven
That no other should alter what I have seen
I dictate the path to paradise
My sight is true and in it is the truth

I pave the way to God
That in knowing him, I alone can see his will
I pave the way to God
No man shall know him in another

I built the fences and the way to God is secure
No other path shall lead to him
For by tenacity, I protect this road to heaven
And only in my path shall all men walk

********************************************

In my experience and wisdom, I have set my way
And from the grace I received, that I leave to you
Not pointing you to the giver, from whom I look to
But in my pride, I have become god to God

When the sun sets

And so I stared into the distance
The realisation of sunset, settled on my heart
The calmness of the day’s end, creeping over me
Along with the curse to reminisce on time
How have I lived while the sun shined
How have I loved while the day trotted by

And so the stars began to appear
My mind lingers on the sun and its setting rays
Oh, the beauty that they presented
And the calmness the end brought with it
But now the fear emerges from the shadows, deep
The dread walks out in confidence. Bold.
Now this hope fights the battle it was born to fight

And as the moon rules the night
And all is hidden in the darkness that consumes
My mind wonders about the sunset, gone
How can it leave after the time together?
How can it be, that I am without it tonight?
For its brightness seemed to never end
And its warmth was perfect for the entire day

And as the night lived on
This fear seems here to stay
Would the sun ever return to me?
Would this cold be mine forever?
For I am alone in the darkness that covers all
I am desolate, in the gloom that fills the air
How can the sun abandon me?

And as I shut my eyes under the watch of the night
As the shadows look at me through the stars
There I see the deepest of thought
There they live with solitude as their realm
Would the sun ever shine again?
Would the brightness come back to keep me warm?
Oh this dread that night time brings

But I said ‘please’

But I said ‘please’
Isn’t that the ticked to approval?
Should not the mere use of the word, bring acceptance?
Should it not grant access through the resistance you put forth?
Do I really need to mean it?

Do not dare deny me of what my heart seeks
Is not the word, the right I have to my desires?
Should I not be presented with my request, for its sake?
For this word is my permit
And its use my guarantee

Must I mean it to use it?
Is it not a mere word?
Must a sign of remorse and humility serve as its litter?
Is it not enough, that my pride be etched away for its use?
Why then do you seek more from me?

Is not my use of it, payment that must be accepted?
For once given, like all speech, it cannot be returned
I therefore, demand that this insolence stop.
And my request be granted
For I would grant yours, if guided by the word, ‘please’.

Therefore you should accept it
You must accept it
For I have, without your demand for it, presented it
And in its own right, binds you to action
Actions, in my interest

************************************************

But your ‘please’ is not welcomed here
Your disguise of politeness is not applauded
For in its true form, a denial from me, must be graciously accepted
And your desire does not thump my response
Your ‘please’ is not a guarantee

So save your breath
Not from a polite request
But from the insolence you may emanate from my dismissal of your request
for my approval is mine to give
And not your ‘please’ to demand

Nightmares of the day

Woe be the man, who is troubled by nightmares at day
For your rest is taken, and your peace is lost
The terrors live and walk with you
And your sanity is nothing but a fiction
For the darkness is dreadful
And the light is none the better
Woe be such a man, for life will lose him

The nightmares of the day, possesses the strength of the living
A grasp on reality, and a tenaciousness that is unrelenting
They hold a man captive by their sheer presence
And beyond his shadow they lurk
They present an ever growing torment
And the solitude he once had, escapes his memory
His time is spent in despair, and in trepidation he dwells

Woe be the man who is troubled by nightmares at day
For his escape from the night, avails only more despair from the day
His nerves are strained and his vision mired by delusions
He has no sleep, no composure, no will
His heart is wrecked and his hopes are in shambles
For his nights are lost to insomnia and his day, to fear
Woe be this man. For he has been robbed of his living.

A journey to here

Let’s go on a journey to here
It’s a long way from where you are
You may have to leave some things at home
You may have to rush a little
You may not really need such a big bag
Don’t worry. Your journey from there to here will be fine

There is quite a distance from there to here
And in it, are a lot of things
Stories to be written, and history to be tucked away
There are dangers on the way to here.
For one, you may not have fun
Or you may have too much fun on the way, and then hate it here
That though, should not put you off
The adventure should be worth it
The stories should be worth the trip
Don’t make a plan. Ok make a loose plan
Give room for the unexpected
Give fantasy a chance

Lets go on this journey to here.
For in the race to get out there,
You have lost the one thing you needed the most
The little things that brought you this far
The adventure that you were seeking
The curiosity that made you learn

There is a world waiting for you here
A world you left when you left
Hurry up you ex-adventurer
Humanity cannot wait. For it wheels need you to run
But humanity can wait. For your adventure is why you are here
Throw down the misconception of knowledge
Throw down the misunderstanding of maturity
For in the curiosity of yesterday, lies the map to tomorrow
And only on this journey, will the new world be found
The one where there is an eagerness for the sunrise
And pleasantries come alive.
Rid yourselves of the misconceptions of maturity

Let’s go on a journey to here
Where your child-ness lives
Let’s seek again, the thirst for adventure
And the belief in the impossible.
This is an adventure to the time where you once believed
Who knows what you may find

The worth of a favour

What is the worth of a favour?
Is it valued by the cost of resources spent?
the time and money appropriated by the helper?
Is a favour repayable with an equal favour?
Is a favour repayable at all?

For what is the worth of a favour?
is it not the friendship built therein?
That by the act, the depth of brotherhood is expanded
And by a favour, love is acted out
Is a favour not an unrepayable act?

How dare you call it a favour, if it can be paid back?
Is not the heart unquantifiable?
Is a favour not a sharing of the heart?
Is a favour not the bridge that connects two?
How then can a favour be a burden?

Why are you bothered by this favour?
Why does your heart want to repay it?
Is not the point of this, that you keep it forever?
For once given, a favour cannot be returned.
Once given, a heart cannot be returned.

Why then do you feel obliged to return the favour?
How has my heart, become a cross on your back?
For it may have cost me to serve you
But in no way has this chain been latched on to your neck
For in that, this favour is nothing but a shackle

Do not attempt to do this
Do not try to drag my heart through the slums of capitalism
Do not, I insist, put a price on my heart
Do not spit on this heart by trivialising a favour
For it is a gift from the depth of my heart.

When Justice ruled

And justice laughed at me, for I thought justice was just
The illusion crawled through the crevices of my being
For a world was made, that in it I should believe
That for the good of man and from the goodness of man
Would emanate the gyroscope and balance, that was justice
A world where the good who die, will be justified
Justice laughed at me and I was ashamed

This world was conceived in the naivety of belief
An idealism that painted pictures on the canvas of reality.
May the evil men do, bring them to destruction
And let the plight of the week, be only a path to salvation
Let the orphan and the homeless, be lifted by their tears, to the heavens
And let the pain drive us to justice
Yes! To justice we together, marched.

Justice ruled this world and in its hand was the fate of man
For the world was hungry and justice let them starve
For the life was so easily taken while justice watched
For the weak hid away from justice. From the justice of the strong
Justice? Justice became a lord in itself
For it chooses who it loves, and who it hates
The lord, justice, ruled this world and its rule was not just

And so a world turned against justice
Seeking a just act from the unjust
Fighting off the hunger with starvation
And the tears with hurt
For the paradox became the normality
When the deserving of justice were undeserving of it
And justice was finally seen to be unjust

There! There the realization hit the lowest of man
That the path ascribed to justice was of theirs to posses
To posses in the walk of pain and in the trails of desolation
Justice was not their king. Justice was not their God
No. Justice was of their own volition
That in the heart of man, was the birth place of justice
And of his actions, even in those of the lowly, was justice raised

And so justice lived amongst them. Grew with them
Learnt of their heart and lived off their emotions
And when the time was due, justice ruled them
Not from a life of her own, but of one he was given
For justice is the son of all. The daughter of this earth
And only from the heart of all men:
/Is justice made kind/ Is justice made king/ Is justice made God

Long live the king. Long live justice
Born of my heart, ruler of my life

 

 

Beating around the bush

Legalism is the strict adherence to a law or practice. Usually an excessive adherence to it. The term is usually used in reference to religious practices where rules and practices are adhered to in a very strict manner. Legalism has its place. This could be in processes where precision is important. No doubt in chemistry and engineering, there is need for an adherence to standards, and a high level of purity and precision.

Legalism though, sometimes flows into regions of one’s life where they are not particularly useful. Most especially in relationships. The application of a check list on how we relate with people is usually a hindrance to the fluidity that is required for any form of interaction to blossom. There is the urge to pull up a list of actions and topics to cover. This is a recipe for disaster. It therefore is sometimes necessary to “beat around the bush”.

Friendships are not built on the strictness that legalism provides. This “straight to the point” attitude, does rather hinder the spontaneity that facilitates the growth and unexpectedness of relationships. The fluidity that beating around the bush provides, allows the integration of lives that offer the surfaces upon which, lasting bonds are made.

It therefore is, in many situations, disadvantageous to “go straight to the point” in discussions that are not formal or time constrained. One needs to allow one’s self, the luxury of fluidity. The beauty in the mystery of a conversation that flows, unrestrained. The beating around the bush period, allows one the opportunity to discover another.

That is where true friendship is born, thrives and grows.