Expectant

listen

just listen

 

no

try again

 

voice

don’t speak

 

understand

don’t know

 

decipher

don’t judge

 

steadfast

don’t rush

 

patience

a while longer

 

silence

just wait

 

hear

how can you

 

you do not

listen

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Of follies and fascism.

Despite the heartening reaction from so many quarters, it’s the incessant repetition of times like this that leave me with a bone-tired weariness and despair at the continued spinelessness and stupidity of ‘humanity’. That so many would accept the same fallacies, so often, by so few.

There is beauty in silence; but one should not confuse the silence of listening with the silence of inaction, acquiescence or appeasement. Ultimately, there comes a time when silence is submission. And with that thought I’ll leave you. In peace.

Fireside reflection one winter evening

I am sewing. I wonder whether it will

be of some comfort to know years hence.

The hours spent by the stove till

this record is shepherded towards present tense.

 

First a sweatshirt, then a blanket to pullover

the broadening shoulders by the fire side.

Each stitch a tie that pricks our regret over

a loosening grip; each badge a source of pride.

 

And tomorrow’s tomorrow, will they see

the same pangs or remain blind in slumber

– just as their forebears be –

until loss and longing fuels their hunger.

 

 

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Message

What is this dark foreboding?

A crescendo rising to crash our

very being.

And rest:

for once it has begun there is no respite

or repeal.

Run free

or do not run at all.

Climb from this descent.

Tip toe if you must

but charge

onward.

 

Build. Not a

wall but the means

to overthrow and dismantle

to forge anew;

challenge this brutal beauty

beholden to its past.