Liability?

I am not
the baggage of your past
and don't make me
Though I may appear
to be lost at sea
You need not rescue me
I may seek what you have found
In celebration, abound
Seemingly so safe and sound
You may think I don't reign my sail
I don't think that I have failed
The waters mayn't be calm today
Nonetheless, I'll find a way
Discover promising lands
far away from your island
of complacency and temptation
Soon to be of degradation
Do not hold my hand
in sympathy
The time isn't right for me
On another day, we shall see
In different places, you and me.

Un Autre Été

I hold my head up high
and gaze into the distance
lost in absent thought of
what the future would be
but the present is running by

the grass is still green,
the evening bright
the children joyful and merry
but time has passed
and I'm not a child anymore
no friends to be seen
home is empty and bare
so much has changed
we left some time ago,
and then he
he shall never come back
and will we?

lost are the days
lost is time
lost are all the memories
that we didn't hold on to
lost in a rhyme
and all that is left
are tears to wipe
lost is the laughter
so happy and young
weighed down not by
what tomorrow comes

pushed into a stream
that shall never rest
time had stood still once
but shall never again
if only we had known
if we had never grown
if time had never flown
if home was still home....

Zenith

Time is on your side
Don't just let it go
Raise your sail up high
'fore the wind can blow

The ship is on the run
Basking in the sun,
she could be the one
You may never know

Music in the air,
Love could be out there
The oar is in your hand
If you choose to row

She looks you in the eye
Looks can never lie
The world is at a high
Time is on your side.

Final refuge

Let me seek refuge in your arms. End my suffering, take away my grief.
You are the end.
Many fear you, but I respect.
Take from me my sins and my begrudges.
Wash away my impurity and all my insecurities.
Who I cannot love in spite of affection, let me forget.
Who I cannot hate, because of affection, let me forget.
Alone, we come into this world, and alone, we leave.
When we depart, who is there to grieve?
Nothing matters when all is said and done.
Suffering ends, for merriment lasted not long
Left humble and weak,
the comfort of your arms I seek.

Do unto others....

You want to be better. To the extent that you're almost someone else. And you're almost there. Two steps further.
You take the first. The task is not simple, but you strive.
I'm watching you. I see through your attempts. You may succeed in your endeavour. Then again, you many not. I do not say anything. A silent spectator.
Tables turn.
I'm two steps away. I raise my foot to take the first. You're watching. You laugh and you jeer. You scream that I'll never get there. It's all a joke to you. But to me it's a turning point.
For once, I wish you would step into my shoes and I into yours.

Wallpaper

He has something to say, but he won't say it. He doesn't like the sound of his own voice. Truth is, he never gives himself the chance to really hear it. He resents himself in every way.
He's standing with a group. He listens carefully to what they discuss. The topic is familiar. He is informed and he wishes to share. He forms an opinion, phrases it carefully in his mind and reviews it many times. He waits for a lapse. It comes. He speaks.
Too soft. No one heard. He dare not be louder for the fear of sounding foolish, too eager or too childish.
He flushes. The conversation revives, but the subjected has drifted. He is crestfallen.
He steps back, against the wall. He feels he belongs there. The wallpaper.

Inspiration

When inspired, we create, we innovate, we accomplish but we need not struggle. Inspiration enables us to achieve feats we could never have imagined and without much effort.
What we do, we do with grace and elements of truth and originality.
Within a matter of minutes, we outshine what we had actualized in time.

Inspiration is a Khoi Bag. It is promising and indeed, the returns are manifold.

But it is momentary.
Once the bag is burst, its bounties have dispersed and all within reach has been gathered, all that is left is a void.

It is crippling.
Of what value is ordinary prey to a tiger that has tasted human blood? Of what worth is rum or whiskey to he who has tasted wine? Would a pauper who has experienced a palatial lifestyle, be able to love his humble home?

Inspiration creates you. It also destroys you.