obsessive mind is wit seeping in need
fills gaps with missing pieces external
desperation not love, pleading to seed
gardens to harvest fruits' tasty kernel
fragments illusive prideful love or work
person paints rigours as necessity
grips grey matter, unrealistic cork
attraction clutch mind, a complexity
balanced stability rests hovering
realism swallowed by clawing shadow
higher self cringing waits uncovering
delusions or compulsions dance backflow
urges or repeated thoughts lead to naught
heartfelt spirit will not rest till peace sought
Sitting upside down in the car
On its roof and well concealed
By the hedge it just leapt to
Land upside down in this field
The lesson being learned
When going round a bend
Trying to pick up a ciggie
Can cause unfortunate end
It seemed all quite peaceful
In an ending somehow right
To what had been a memorable
And very worthy Stag Night.
Deciding to respond to
The penetrating shout
Of are you all alright
We decided to climb out.
Good Lord but I’m chuffed
This beery voice said
I saw you jump the hedge
And I though you were dead.
We stood around a while
For a laugh and a joke
Each one of us enjoying
A much needed smoke.
Can I give you a lift he said
It’s the least I can do
I can’t wait for the police
‘Cos I’ve been drinking too.
A country road mid 1960’s
A cold and bitter night
Isolated and deserted and
Not a person or house in sight.
So he drove us back to Bert’s place
Which wasn’t really very far
And Bert had to wake and tell his dad
That he’d gone and crashed his car.
A good solid early1960’s model
And although we got a bad fright
I think that’s what helped us all survive
The rigours and vigours of Bert’s Stag Night
This long or short grotesque shadowy path,
this dreadful sorrowing sojourn through the vale,
this burden of ceaseless hope banished at the instance
This thing we called Life, puny bay leaf of time.
marooned by rigours from birth,
sentences of windy chase,
asperity and exertion as attendances.
the quest for known yet unknown.
the rat-race for passing filth,
where dirt conquers dirt for dominance
Pride garbed in many forms
Multitudes Journeying on paths of obscurity
Even Solomon searched in vain,
so did i till i reach the precipice.
When in troubadour i transverse through the dreary path,
I heard of King Jesus.
I looked up the hill Calvary,
the fountain from the Pierced side flowing free,
He bade my anxious soul to His rest.
I fled, still fleeing from aimless and empty toils
to Christ the King of mercy.
with eye set on His Light he leads through Jordan vale,
The Risen king gives me hope.
And this for me is more than gold
Firing the raging forces of chemical warfare in every cylinder
Upon collision of these particles
An offspring of mechanical movement is born from the rigours of combustion
It has strokes for a pulse
It eclipses shyly over the tar of the freeway
I was told on it's fourth
It moves.
Today I'm petrified by the rumble of engine and metal
A well painted box with four wheels that is to swallow us whole
An Uber that savors the highway to my coffin
I wonder if the vehicle that is to unmake me is made yet
The Japanese are probably working on it as I speak
Are my to be afraid of the silver that lines my own pockets
For we created this
We are a generation of steel and engine
I hope to place the letters RIP on my plate
To remind myself of how it is to end as I climb this beast.
I wish to try paint the portrait of manhood
Tinkle a Little
For what else except humility makes humans angels?
For being a man is hard but that's something I wish to become before my tombstone days
Manhood
The unexplained and unidentified phenomenon of etymology
I've been told real men have a salvation in their touch
Eyes with gallons of gasoline two matchsticks short
And a heart filled with fire hoses and riot gear but yet still bonteous in the offering of love
They have a chest of a dragons lungs
And anguish that a lady with a bowl of cheese cannot satiate
I've known men with hearts like these
Their minds are made of diamonds
Formed from constant pressure of the rigours of tied responsibilities
Perhaps in a thousand years
We will be diamonds from the dust
For anyone is born male but not everyone is a man.
The deep wounds and scars of the past
The rigours and torment of the present
The blurry and scary pictures of the future
Like a stampeding Buffalo have destroyed my morale
Leaving me in the cave with the serpent of risky thinking faculty
With depression I have struggled
With thoughts of suicide I have wrestled
Guess it is time to gain freedom from this burning and tormenting pain
Guess it is best to end it all now...
ABSOL
part 5 6 7
an uneasy motto
shaped
by exactness
and. need
and troubled
arrogance
without a
thread
and
room
for mercy
simplicity
a consequence
of affection
reposed
in patience
withstands
close countenance
&
inspection
such change
survives
the rigours
of
obigation
a citadel
inviolate
implodes
with
bravado
feelings
flowering
in a
rhapsody
of renewal
to combine
the invisible
to open
&elaborate
plainly
in the eyes
On a windy rain-swept day
When a murder of crows I see,
Their ruffled feathers ragged
Sorrowful as they can be.
Huddled they perch on roof-tops
Gazing mournfully at the sky,
No ray of hope the day gives
Neither crumbs of morsels dry.
They remind me of poets
Singed by the rigours of their fate,
Peddling hopes for the living
Their lives a pitiful wait.
That heavens would pour mercy
On their weary crucified souls,
That fate pen a reversal
Of their oft mistaken roles.
Decried as stray vagabonds
Beseeching alms at corners dark,
They are monarchs in disguise
Beggared mortals fail to mark.
***********
Dawn - dawned...!
Sky without oil colours and canvas,
paints a miracle - only one of its class!
Never the same, a moment to next,
may be, it wants us to read the text.
Many a cloud, chart course, pass-by,
tiny event, a visibly illusionary sly!
Impressionable, in every possible way,
holds all attention to itself - as it lay.
Keeps us pinned to clouds and colours,
takes us away from reality rigours.
Cosmogonic wonder if one discerns,
sees through - discriminates and learns.
Probe for the cause instead of effects,
ignore laurels and perceived defects.
Dirty ploy, keeps us tied to the mundane,
mind's attempt to keep the man - insane!
Beyond these is 'the incomprehensible',
only One, that is truly 'the imperishable',
Make a turn - complete round about one,
to understand that one - 'the One within one'!
A glimpse into which, that experience tell,
eases out and releases us off all the spell.
Like the 'Enlightened' one's thoughts dwell,
comparing, "a Chick breaking out of its shell"!
Memory in hand and pen agape
The allusions flow freely
I’d start in abit.
The rigours of stages in life
Is a farce I am yet to comprehend
I’d write
A time saddled with burden of innocence
So lavished.
The peer’s shadows looms over
Lost in the crowd of our thoughts
Envy is measured.
In maturity confusion is eminent
At a point nothing is pleasing
Efforts become so vague, we end partying in graves
At peace with everything but ourselves.
In strangers strides, memory at hand fades.
All are prisoners locked in the prism of timespace
A few sail through cushioned from the rigours of hate
Yet none may opt out never losing the favours of grace
Would that it were nobler to suffer confined in space
Than be thought brave to overcome the fear of fate
All are prisoners locked in the prism of timespace
Fear of the Unknown plunges us all in utter disgrace
Though desperados fail not to open the ultimate gate
Yet none may opt out never losing the favours of grace
Most sport excuses to want to stay in this only place
Family mate duty cause unfinished work started late
All are prisoners locked in the prism of timespace
Yet others pray for the day of deliverance to save face
Wait in patience for the scythe to sweep clean the slate
Yet none may opt out never losing the favours of grace
Don’t we look around and wonder at this endless place
We call a living-space hoping for more on our plate
All are prisoners locked in the prism of timespace
Yet none may opt out never losing the favours of grace
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Our mother-land
gave birth to our mothers
That gave us mother-care
I say Thank you,
Despite the rigours of mother-hood
You still showed ur motherly-love
Such is evidence of a mothers love
I say Thank you,
Even to our sisters,aunties &
grannies
That loved us like their own
An example of mother figures
I say Thank you,
Even to my mother
The mother to all & the mother
amongst mothers
An epitome of all that motherly-love
carries
I say THANK YOU!!
The Frog, Translation of Etiemble’s quintet: La grenouille by T. Wignesan
(This quintet rhymed: ababc might in its propos -
perhaps in its imagery and allusion - be based on some family history involving the tragedy
over a son and the subsequent adoption of a daughter. If I’m wrong I offer my profoundest
apologies in advance.)
Lime-stuck last night by the frozen water of the pond,
frog boxed in glass window fending off thickening waters,
it’s our naked daughter, heart of cold gold, shivering
recumbent statue hardened: withstanding the rigours of
our wars:
stuck the other night by the cold of its/her times.
This’s our hardened son who plays the frog and to
himself lies,
caresses sharks, courts a female cosair
puts trust in spurious air which entices and captures,
flimsy trapped game strangling us by the collar,
frogs petrified by the fright of our times.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
I have found love!
A love I only can feel,
Love borne out of me and
only for me.
My love is ever so near,
She shines ever so dear.
everywhere she sits
showering her tiny bits.
Her goodness is felt
as every chaos is met
long time rigours she melts
and earth she gently pets.
In beauty my love is radiant,
in giving she is without equal,
distinct are her colours and
just are her ways.
Never wavering in faithfulness
when called she does approach
to cast off the wayning sword
of her lover's foe...
My defender,my provider and my life,
for your course I have lived
and for your course I shall give
you are me and I you!
I love you,I have loved you,and forever will
Nature is all that i am,all i will be,
Nature's love is me!
I have found love!
A love I only can feel,
Love borne out of me and
only for me.
My love is ever so near,
She shines ever so dear.
everywhere she sits
showering her tiny bits.
Her goodness is felt
as every chaos is met
long time rigours she melts
and earth she gently pets.
In beauty my love is radiant,
in giving she is without equal,
distinct are her colours and
just are her ways.
Never wavering in faithfulness
when called she does approach
to cast off the wayning sword
of her lover's foe...
My defender,my provider and my life,
for your course I have lived
and for your course I shall give
you are me and I you!
I love you,I have loved you,and forever will
Nature is all that i am,all i will be,
Nature's love is me!
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