Tag Archives: nature

My Adidas

 

Sometimes your stride pattern is just as important as your shoes. The worn soul of mine meant all I had was my stride. All I had were stops and starts, long presses and short taps, perhaps they were Morse code to the universe, calling out for a new pair.

From the miles I have walked, the only thing I would wish upon anyone is the beauty of acquaintances providing rest from the intense heat.

Having made many strides, in recent times I found a formidable adversary that challenged me to dance down treacle-filled streets with concrete blocks strapped to my feet.

Even with two shoes as two sides to a story, my truth in all of this was that I had to Get Out. Clearings that energised me to walk a certain way were blocked or simply no longer existed.

I’d been here about 14 years ago yet I’d forgotten what the storm felt like. I forgot the scar caused by the lightning, I forgot the days of darkness and how I would have to keep my eyes open, fighting with the same fingertips I was holding onto my sanity with.

Every now and then my eyes would mistake a candle for the sun, yeah… I’d been here before. How many more strides could I get through?

Ask a friend, ask an adversary?

She sipped tea like Miss Piggy proved Kermit was cheating.

Stirred it now and then to keep me in a hopeless place.

My records laid before her showed my performance was ace

12-and-a-half years a slave, I took my calls and beatings.

When Liberty shook her bell I ran away, to freedom

The universe stopped re-healing my shoes and sent me several new pairs. The equilibrium has changed, I drive instead of walk, I have new scenery to take in and understand.

Even though lightning left a deeper scar from the second strike, I know that the path I am on is one that is made for me.

New shoes, my strides, in the words of Nas….”Whose world is this?”

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Filed under Non Poetic Blogs

5 day Poetry Challenge Day 5 – The Uniqueness of Being Unique

Written circa November 2006, this is the last post for the challenge. It feels good to look back at where I’ve come from as a writer. Thank you for reading,

Every word spoken on this earth is a ritual

Unless it’s inspired by the divine at the time, it cannot be defined as truly individual

Uniqueness is the relative of beauty desired by all

If true love is unconditional

Are the partakers truly unique individuals?

Experience is definitions fly on the wall in the documentaries of our lives

But we find uniqueness essence cannot be repeated

Humans are fruit smoothies – mixture of common features

We try to emphasise unique things, a lot of our plus points

From our personal couture to our cultural standpoints

Pointing skywards

Common concepts are the paternal subtexts that drive us

Culture is our car

Exquisitely designed without a need for eyes

For unique defines not I but who we are

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Filed under Random Poetics

Dovedale (52/39)

Amidst the clapping trees and booming hills
She stood

Frozen like taxes until her interest rate rose
Trying to catch the note of the strumming stream

As the whispering wind started rumours
She believed
She’d fall
Pregnant with fear
Her comfort zone was born

Bairns skipping over stepping stones
Each step changing tones
By this river I have known
She stood

Humming the note of the strumming stream
Thawing out thoughts of why

This filly affiliated with feeling afraid
Her feelings were frayed yet
She walked over water like cobbled stones were her disciples

Stepping out like her faith says
Converting the unbeliever inside her
Drowned in joy, I was

We sang the song of stepping stones in harmony
For admist the clapping trees, above the roaring hills
She soared

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Filed under 52 Week Challenge, Random Poetics

Sometimes

Sometimes
I wonder what if I had disobeyed so called guidance and played to the gallery of my strengths. Raised my number of reasonable grades and been between the C and A’s my intelligence deserved.
Sometimes
I wonder if I’d told them where to stick their work now play later ethics would I have earlier learned to be less reserved.
For now I yearn to enjoy life like I should have when I was younger.
Sometimes
I wonder what if it was me who went to a university in a city of stars and high lives, would I get high fives or sharp knives.
Would I be the subject of study rather than disdain.
Sometimes
I wonder if they’re blind to the real me because I haven’t met expectations.
I play strong silent until I’m burdened with vexations.
I’m too fly to be off the handle so I endure with patience yet I have to sell like Asians, the essence and science of my ingrained convictions.
Prove myself worthy of my existence.
Sometimes
I wonder why they call a spade a spade yet dirty my kitchen because they really ain’t digging the true me.
See sometimes they claim to know me better than I do yet can’t act on the mirror like I do.
Maybe its because I know my reflection.
History repeats itself like the gloomy mist after a conservative won election.
All I ever heard was my imperfection until I did them a favour and played to their favourite phrase of “you don’t listen” just so I can learn to love me.
Not sometimes
But always.

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Filed under Relationships