The Olive Branch

Lace not an olive branch
With venom and poison
Lace it not
With the spit of words
Unkind and haughty
Lace it not
With foul breath
Ferrying untruths and hubris
Lace it not with the sound
Of ignorance and conceit
It is an olive branch


The vastness of the trove bewilders
The enormity of the sea confuses
The multiplicity of tasks
Breathing, and cleaning, and refining, and swimming
The oodles disorient

Days of meaning

Where did they go
The days of lonesome bliss
When solitude was a priced jewel
Sought after with the yen of a thirsty deer
Looked forward to with the eagerness of a hound
When focus on goals
Impelled self-isolation
When the paradise of empty spaces
The serenity of loneliness
And the company of the self
Were akin to a masseuse’s therapy
To a body sore and sapped
Where are the days of meaning

The City

A swallowing
A disappearance
Like of some prey into the insides of the predator
Or of a needle into a bale of hay

It’s the image my mind conjured
The persistent one that still materializes
Whenever I picture a journey into the city


Crackling fire

The night gets on
Time stops not
But you
You gotta stop
Just for the night

Line ’em thoughts
Of the empty full house
The empty busy street
Creation’s unfathomable grandeur
Line ’em thoughts with the crackle of the fire, the music, the wine

When the Great Tree Falls…

From her cup of knowledge
I drunk
Her steady, inspiring guidance as my walking stick
I trudged
By the lampstand of her tender, loving firmness
I learnt
On her nourishing foresight and insight
I throve
Out of the trenches of unknowing
She pulled me

Up The Hill

Images in your mind
Of ants building anthills in the savanna
A thousand times bigger than themselves
Of a steady meek stream of water
Slicing through mighty rocks
Your eyes travel
Up the hill

O Come, Spring!

Oh come oh come spring Come your smiles to bring With your equating times our doorbells ring Come your brother to relieve so cold and quietening That flowers may bloom, and birds sing Come that layers may be forgotten and on your warmth our lives to hinge That our lives and land may be renewed…

The Raptor Comes Undone

The size of the dog matters not
The fight in the dog matters a lot
In fighting the underdog proves to be inept not
To claim victory the bruised raptor cannot
Who would have thought?

Dollars, weapons, prayers, and more
Are the prey’s from the world that adore
The prey’s courage in the brawl
Poverty, curses, condemnation, and detraction galore
Follow the raptor who the world now abhor