Long Outside(a) Poems
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Make sure you do not need the toilet before stepping into a lift.
If you drop something pick it up before a packrat or a magpie sees it.
A good book is always worth having when in a waiting room,
Waiting for a bus or train,
Or outside a clothes shop waiting for a partner or friend,
To finish trying on everything in the shop.
Learn animal sign language,
For early warning of Earthquakes, floods and twisters.
Make a list of everything you give for free to the charity shop,
So you do not end up buying some or all of the items back.
Be prepared to make a run for it if you hear the words,
"Is this of any use to you".
Check potential partners for signs of hoarding.
When you child says but Dad,
Always best to stop what you are doing,
As chances are you are about to make a dumb mistake,
That can be used against you for years.
Always have a pencil in your pen drawer,
As finding a pen that works,
When you need one is never a given.
Planning a trip ahead of time,
Leaves more hair on your head.
A silent world, a watery space,
Where shadows dance and light takes chase.
A soft, warm home, a cosy nest,
Where tiny limbs find gentle rest.
The world outside, a distant hum,
A muffled beat, a muffled drum.
But here, it's quiet, calm and deep,
A peaceful slumber, secrets to keep.
The baby floats a weightless dream,
In amniotic fluid, a silver stream.
No need for worries, no need for strife,
Just gentle rocking, a blissful life.
A tiny hand, a tiny foot,
Exploring space, a gentle loot.
The umbilical cord, a lifeline strong,
Connecting to the world, where it belongs.
The mother's heartbeat, a steady beat,
A lullaby, a comforting treat.
The baby listens, knows no fear,
Just love and warmth, oh so near.
The world outside is a distant call,
But here, it's safe, within this wall.
Awaiting the day, the time to come,
When the baby's journey has begun.
So, chill, little one, in your watery bliss,
Let the world outside, just kiss
Your dreams with whispers, soft and low,
For now, it's just you, and the gentle flow.
I may have missed the glittering prize,
The fleeting gold that dims the skies.
But deep within, a stillness grows,
A garden where the true light flows.
The noise outside, a restless sea,
Where storms of envy seek to be.
Yet in my heart, a quiet spring,
Where hope and healing softly sing.
The workday’s battlefield of spite,
Where shadows lurk to steal the light.
Their words like arrows, sharp and cold,
But I’ve learned wisdom can’t be sold.
To walk away is strength unseen,
A guardian of the soul serene.
No coin or crown can outweigh peace,
The sacred gift that grants release.
For riches fade and glory dies,
But calm remains beneath the skies.
I choose the path where silence reigns,
Beyond the reach of selfish chains.
"Chirpy chirpy children ride a blue and white train"
( A caption of a rail journey photograph)
Blue and white box
As if your eyes
Pictures in Inox
Outside a swarm of birds flies
Sweet chirpy chirpy ...
Listen to the children in their seats
Blue and white train
As if your sari
Children chatter
Sweet chirpy chirpy ...
Sweets on platter
From the Pantry car
The train halts
Near a school
Sweets and salts vendor
Children straightening their tie
Tiffin time over
Sweet chirpy chirpy ...
__________________________________________
September 18, 2019
Writing Challenge 2, September 2019
The Photograph - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart- Wiishkobe Ode
Together, with or within proximity to people or a person. Community, unity. The invisible thread that attaches from you to me. Wherever you may be, recently I’m manifesting that place is next to me. Where our forever dialogue exchanged releases a type of ecstasy. Our bodies attach like magnets whose attraction unapologetically fuses our souls together into one spirits sleeve. Forever sewing a line of cosmic communication between soul notes, that play tunes of elevation on a bar everlasting. A connection of love chords created outside a wish or prayer. No human power can birth this communion; soul-traction love affair. Joyful flutes sound off when one another draws near. Ten strings play hypnotic music. A melodic heavenly tune our bond conceives when the holy unity of two flesh bodies connecting destined to meet. Pulled from his rib I am his missing connecting piece. Designed to link everything, creating our Unity.
Carcass evens out sand
Skin lands in your hands
Push past tainted smiles for better lands
Call me
When we reach the peak of boiling
and I've sweat out all my provisions
I'll answer
No need to memorize nonsense
in your numbers stead
I will always know your name
And it plays like the knocking of two outside a manger
There is nothing holy here
but lessons taught in down times
And so I practice dance for ballrooms I will never tread
You have never and will never see me
Call me
and I'll tell you how it's supposed to go
and you can teach her, them
It's too pretty outside to lose my mind
but you have it
Blow heat on kerosene and burn down your own monument
I'm tired
The Unjust Legal Chain
Across the sea, the promises were bright:
A chance to work, to send the money home,
To lift a family, build a future right,
Leaving the soil of Africa to roam.
Hidden in the shade could be fight or flight
They boarded flights with hope packed in their chests,
To sweep the floors and serve a distant land,
To trade their youth at poverty's behest,
And place their fates into a stranger's hand.
For some, varied as a palace, a dog hound at best
But golden sands can hide a heavy chain,
Where contracts bind the spirit to the floor
The Kafala becomes a wall of pain,
Locking the world outside a heavy door.
Dilemma awaits, knocking like a trouble chain
A passport taken at the very start,
An employer who holds the right to stay,
It breaks the body and it tests the heart,
Through endless hours that swallow up the day.
Even offered rest on a hard floor mat
In quiet kitchens, far from any friend,
They nurse the bruises, wipe away the tears,
And wonder when the isolation’s end
Will come to rescue them from all their fears.
At this moment, no relative, no acquaintance and no friends
The silent walls hear whispers of a home,
Of children waiting for a mother’s voice,
While trapped beneath a cold, uncaring dome,
Stripped of their rights, their freedom, and their choice.
Trapped in a luxury but loveless, heartless home
Yet through the shadows, hidden voices speak,
And sisterhoods are formed in secret spaces.
The laws are shifting, slowly, for the weak,
As nations start to look at broken places.
Even primordial callousness, Kafala speak-s
For dignity is not a prize to buy,
And human worth can never be confined;
Beneath the vastness of the desert sky,
The captive spirit will not stay behind.
If this was gold, even dry deserts gods won't buy
She didn't understand ways in which the world worked or her place within it
On the outside a beautiful girl but beyond her eyes, deeper inside she burned with rage but you'd never know for the image she displayed on her face was timid
Came from where many failed but planned to prevail for she would never place a limit
On what she could or couldn't do for she knew God placed her in this very situation paced for her race to the finish
Didn't trust many because along the way more than plenty proved to be fruitless so when they were scheming or fronting she knew it
Everyone throughout life that wronged her in a way just made her stronger in a way, she put her life in lyrics for the world to hear it, you can read her mood from the songs that she plays and every tune she's intuned with
Throughout life she had her fair share of downfalls but bouncing back was her art of skill
She let her guard down one too many times so in front of her heart she made a shield so nothing would start or could build
She witnessed first hand how fast people can change & what their evil can do
But in the back of her mind she always knew the fact was true that once she grew she would be a woman they would never amount or equal to.
I peer quite nervously about,
to wonder at the goings on,
how much of what is said,
is speculation on my part,
and how this dwelling rose,
from a clouded past milieu,
tales of the apocryphal I’d guess,
imagination stirred off course,
uncanny gothic motto purblind,
blue ink mist curtain veil stoke,
vivid mind’s black night visual,
amulet of congested fantasy,
macabre plot on the strain,
what surreal restlessness within,
dormant interregnum cast,
yet one seems drawn toward,
that dim lit swirling sight,
nest for midnight dervish,
and other brazen species,
dare I enter from afar,
perforce I court danger,
when nosey to a fault,
but therein lies the trap,
to be fascinated is one thing,
to stray beyond another,
why would one be so tempted,
by an entity with dark omens,
superstition is a term used,
to smear that which is unknown,
it is however justified,
when carefully used methinks,
a shrouded raven perched,
stoic, solemn sage as sentry,
ravens circulating chimney top,
symbolic ghost appearing numb,
somehow I cannot summon,
pluck up that innate gumption,
to confront a crippling fear,
before it duly swallows me,
now I feel driven without rein,
zany impulse at the whelm,
enigmatic pathway underfoot,
reluctant step a heavy booth lurch,
shattered eaves, torn leaves,
giant concrete slab tumble,
frail broken window smithereened,
taut ghoulish splinters glisten,
I dash against elemental angst,
when peeping warily into the void
Shape shifters come in all shape and form.
Politicians are naturals of course
Smiling and promising one thing
Then delivering quite another.
Then there are con artists and scammers
Taking advantage of the naive
And innocent at least if only once.
Then there’s those like my neighbor
Who’s nothing more than a welfare rancher
Taking funds from a do-gooder land trust NGO
Ostensively to keep his lands whole.
Appearing on the outside a good old boy
But really just another scamming thief
Feeling entitled to whatever he can take
Such as a small sliver of my land
For some reason fenced inaccurately long ago.
In this particular case the law isn’t on his side
But that doesn’t matter
In his desire to be right,
Uphold the bizarre tradition of adverse possession
And bully his way to some who knows what end
To who knows whose advantage.
The thing about shape shifters is just that,
They shift and change
So can only be trusted to be untrustworthy.
It’s good to know though
Caveat emptor
They can be anywhere, and dangerous
Especially when least expected.
(11/14/25)