Retrospective Jealousy

Sit up & look at me, what do I let slip?
I never knew the way forward was the same way backwards
I never knew retrospective jealousy would ever get the best of me
I never knew friends I had were foes in fox hide
Now I sing, oh how I sing! like a crying kitten in a string
Round my neck is the world, round my way home I trot
If we met, we could've been friends

#Fear

Fear is a terrible thing
fear of knowing the depth of your misery
fear of finding out that you are sailing great land of damnation alone
fear of biting your tongue when singing the song of redemption
because nothing's ever right, nothing's ever right
no, nothing's ever right

#Pain2

Pain is silent
Pain is deafening
Pain rolls you over to dead end and back
Pain knows no boundary
Pain exercise no courtesy
I once courted Him
Why, he loved me back

Ntawabonetse

He's got to take the joke to bed
the bloke needs a little sleep
tomorrow, another laughable day
who's to share the humour?
Who's to break the curse and curve it into fine jewellery?
A silver wristlet maybe, that will serve him all right
Ntawabonetse
Now listen to this; a bloke is broken, period

Remembering

Photo by David Monje on Unsplash

No new conversation is at the end of the night,
it's tranquil and undisturbed, a silent visit
dawn meets me outside and leads the way
Remembering is gray, a breeze that brings future close
within my realm, within the reach of my mind
I look back, eyes meet my people
who didn't choose to stay in the dark
I now carry their lamps, world's eyes need to adjust
Future holds me dear, gives me fresh oil
I give her my hand; mould her, shape her
I build her from the soil that bedded my elders,
drank from their blood and thus she beams of hope
My dream spills on to my children in their sleep;
of united hands, of loving and forgiving hearts
and they walk through the days unconquered
Remembering is my revered prayer
of meeting you at the end of the journey
of holding hands again, of crying together
It's tasting your presence around with nostalgic longing
of old days, of old ways that won't cross again
But there's heaven; yes, there's heaven for us
there's endless stream of joy that awaits us somewhere
God's hand is on that, I booked my way to meet you there
Remembering is bringing you back to mind and to heart
where you always belonged, now and forevermore