Monday, April 13, 2015

Get Rid Of It

It's important to you.
Present in every moment of your life,
It has been intimate with friends, lover, acquaintances.

Get rid of it.
It's your ego.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

The Jungle Boy

Dum-da-dum.. da da dum
Merrily sing the drums
And as the day climbs on to the bed
The evening smiles bright.

An elephant trumpets
A lazy note
A bear adjusts her coat
A parrot fluffs the dirt out of the feathers
As the evening puts on a dark navy sweater.

I stretch my limbs
As the sky turns pink
And the moon smiles with a wink.
Its balmy and soothing
The night looks promising
Because you see
I am a jungle boy.

The old woman stokes the communal fire
As the drummers belt out an age old  rhyme
The fire is bright, the eyes are warm
The heart and minds are calm.

The heartbeat is the only rhythm
Lull between the conversations the only clock
We talk
And fill our lungs with heaven
As the nightshade flowers go to work.

The earth is primitive and awaken the feet
The grass is soft and moist
The sky is clear
The starts are bright
The conscience clear and the friendships tight .

I dance with life
And sing with the songs
As I join the tribe.
I am now a jungle boy
You see
I left the concrete imitation behind.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Paying The Price

Jump, said the wind
I will carry you far and lay you down gently.
I was a fool.
When I looked back
I saw, the ground was not far from where I had stood.
Down there, was a beautiful garden.
And now, I lay in mud, dropped gently.

I paid the price
For always keeping my aim high and far
And not looking down once a while.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Do You Remember

The lamp flickers
Casting it's comforting shadow
Smoothing the sharp edges of the the steely faces
Almost making the glint of hard eyes look mellow.

The soft warm glow
Ceases all distractions, momentarily.
You can here someone breathe.
And laugh.
The cutlery sparkles.
And you stop tasting with your eyes.

Conversations hum like a lullaby
And there is a sudden urge to look up to the sky.
A long lost primitive instinct
Urges you to find the constellations.

You once again marvel at the canvas called universe
When suddenly the lights come back on
And you change the stripes
From natural to fake