Thinking out loud

THERE Something is hanging in the air Looming, threatening, frightening It's locked my limbs to inaction Closing my eyes and bracing myself It'll have to find me right here Can you feel it too? Choking the promise that once was Making me dread what will be Stifling, the air too dry to breath Not even shade under the trees Nothing for free To free me, no one Surely this is not how it should be? Comfort in ruins Delight in despair Pray tell what took me there? Laughter in disaster Will I even have a heart hereafter? A book with covers A few pages Not chapters Empty Shelve it, burn it No matter No one will notice Eyes closed, self braced It'll have to find me right here. FINIS

I was up and about much earlier than usual. Nothing reminds me of times gone by like the darkness just before sunrise and that chill on my cheeks. There is something quite magical about that time. People up at that time have purpose. Women carrying heavy loads, already toiling. Men carrying the dreams of entire families on their shoulders, the strain etched distinctly on their brows. Little children making their way to school. What time did they get up? What time did whoever got them ready wake up? Then the joggers, the walkers, the exercisers. Determined as the sweat drenches their clothes; to run further, walk faster. Each one determined. He is determined to sell those tomatoes today. He stacks them into a precarious pyramid and steps away briefly to marvel at his handiwork. She carries an IKEA shopping bag on her head. The name almost rubbed away from overuse. So many miles it took to get there, so far from the aisles of build it yourself furniture and so many kilometres she will wa

Have you ever forgiven someone? I mean really forgiven a person; who has caused you pain, humiliation and that yucky feeling of having the rug pulled from under your feet. Have you ever bundled those feelings in a neat little package and thrown them away only to encounter them again when you were innocently taking a walk round your own mind? Do you know the feeling of immersing yourself in that anger afresh and wondering what you ever did to be treated that way? Your heart feels heavy again, bruised anew. Offended again, ego raises its ugly head and declares that no one has the right to hurt you that way. You wrestle again with the when. Consider the how and slip frightfully back into trying to unpack the why. And then you realise, you never forgave them at all. You chose to walk away because staring pain right in the eye burns your eyeballs. That neat package of ill feeling was all you could do to stay sane. But absolving that person of their crime, expunging their record forever, wis

There are some things about the festive season that make me rather uncomfortable. Like that old saying 'Compliments of the Season'. I never remember to say it and I often feel like a dunce when I just say the non-season specific 'Hello' and the person responds with 'Compliments of the Season'. I never know what to say back. 'Compliments of the Season to you too' is rather long and convoluted. It's like saying thank you when someone says they love you. I've said it (compliments of the season to you too) and it often leaves the other person with the glazed look of information overload. So what are you supposed to say back? Thank you? Then it means I haven't given back compliments of the new year. Will the lack of reciprocity mean I have damned that person to a compliment-less year? Perish the thought. An even more troublesome animal is that old Zimbabwean way of shortening things that shouldn't be shortened. Forget the confusion of 'C