Four birds will know
when the snow falls again,
it will light up the faces,
but I won’t see all of them.
Maybe saintly, even faintly amused,
by your blatant stuttering.
I’m forever forward going backwards,
that’s always been my problem
Dr Zhivago, please come and help her
I’m waiting on your call,
the four birds can’t help her,
so here lies the snow.
Take your time doc,
we are the masters of patience,
want another coffee doc?
We wouldn’t want you to sleep.
So we trust in your decision,
to cure with good intentions.
We will gather around her tonight
to sing our hearts out.
Last night I read all the horror books
You so kindly left by the side of our bed.
Titles like, living forever and raising a child,
scare me as much as never losing.
I go to sleep dreaming of being broke,
no food to feed the young,
no clothes to keep them warm,
no chance of living long.
Tossing and turning, I awake to find I’m dead,
was I noble and courageous? Or did I take the easy way out?
Of all my restraints you are my favourite,
but Thirst is my only agenda.
Boys got a lot to learn about nature,
Boys got a lot to be scared of,
It’s not about being a man; it’s about being human
and we all have a weakness
I want to go back, make it all right again.
Work a lot or a little more.
Not pretending to be a perfect father,
But I am close to beginning.
A little peace of mind
A fan beats its wings,
while the sun beams a smile,
the ring of a bell,
atones in the silence.
pick up a pen,
scribble down a namesake.
Look, see, and find a place
for this changing whatever.
A picture on a wall
with a woman bathed in cotton,
behind her a sky
made to raise the dead.
We bow down our heads
to figure out god’s problems,
leave our shoes outside the door,
It’s for him to choose!
Reminisce a book,
you never liked,
until you’d finished.
My underachievement eyes
can barely read the lines,
a journey far too long,
for a mind tired of talking,
I’ll give up on laughing,
If only to find my way.
My heart is another version,
of frostbites winter excursion,
greenish coloured questions,
waiting in the breeze.
When you feel the need
to start treading water,
wait for the right rain cloud
that spells out your name.
Move over Father Gunman
Move over father Gunman,
Your aim is sandwich spread,
Point the barrel down to listen,
“Do you remember what you said?”
You’d “discipline” your children,
While working off the beach.
To them you’d give your blessings,
For them you’d need to breath.
God alone will know,
What you must be thinking now,
Living in our patience,
Our heads to square to bow.
Him, He has pink berets,
Me? a wooden heart.
But we’ll go on walking backwards,
Cause our life is who we are.