Archives for September 2012

Uncultivated seed

Restless minds, fertile bodies.
Blend together in g mesh of flesh.
Sweat drips from him to her.
Creating a wet pool of lust which soon turns to regret.
Desire lasting all of five minutes leaves imbedded in her a seed of hope.
But things created by foolish people through thoughtless acts have no chance of survival.
They are sure to be ripped mercilessly from their roots,
and thrown into trash cans.
Where they lay amongst yesterdays rubbish and remnents of human filth.
A beautiful seed dead, cold, unloved, unwanted and alone.
Unrecognisable in it’s filth covered plastic bag.
All it needed was love to grow, faith to perservere and a body deserving of it.


Random rambling

Its rainy and cloudy and I can’t see a thing, I have this half cigarette which I picked up outside of corner tuck shop and trying to enjoy before anyone can see me, chances of anyone coming out in this dark and rain is very slim, but I need to be careful. I know some time when you least looking for trouble it come from all direction throwing you off-guard. So I try to be very careful when I am out for my little adventures, in this case, half burn cigrate picked up from the street. I always know that there are two types of people some who always get in trouble and some who never gets any trouble; I know no one in their right mind wants any trouble, but still some people just get into it all the time. I wonder, if I can knock on their sub-conscious brain and ask what you looking? They will reluctantly answer me “trouble.” Anyway I know my brain never even in when I am at sleep looking for trouble, I know as even in my sleep I am just scheming out to get out of trouble if I get one. So how come I get in trouble more often than all my friends and siblings. I think its law of Karma in some twisted sense, I heard from my aunt, saying my mother and father never got into any trouble when they growing up and they were not simple book warm kids as I see in my class, but somehow manage to stay away from radar. So I think it’s their Karma now attacking on me, I am paying price they should have paid while growing up. I heard a sound and my thought stopped, I looked across the street and in rain I see aunty Medi, what she doing here in this rain, she should not be here, she don’t even have an umbrella, I am weighing my options about going to help her or finish smoking every bit of cigarette I have in my hand. Reluctantly throwing away the cigarette, I walk towards her before she sees me with all the smoke, miraculously hoping in the rain she will not able to figure out I was smoking. She is drenched in mud and doesn’t look well. I ask her what she doing here at this time in this rain; she didn’t look up but seems she recognized my voice, so she asks me to stay quiet. She is trying to hide, what she is hiding and from whom? It’s too much for my brain to think now when I am still feeling sorry about dropping the idea of finishing smoke and coming to help someone who doesn’t really want any. However, I know if I wouldn’t have walk she would have saw me with cigarette and I would have gone for trouble later. So see while my brain was busy keeping me out of trouble I really lost the last bit of fun, which I could have. Oh, I think she is saying something to me; I should rather focus on what she saying than thinking about what my brain thinking.

My friend tease my for my day dreaming. I end up listening only half of their conversation and my brain takes me far away thinking about some word or something I picked up in the first line of their conversation. I feel bit shaken and looked up auntie medi is shaking my hand she is trying to show me something I look at her, not really able to see what she is trying to show, I decide to focus. She is showing me a book, what she is doing with a book, and why she was trying to hide it in first place, who needs a book in township. She thrust the book in my hand, ran back around, and disappeared; now I left with this book in rain. I am hoping she is not trying to tell me to go to school and read my books. if she wants to tell me that she should have told me any time why she came in this rain all the way running and disappeared. I walk along the side of big wall trying to stay away from rain and stopped close to lamp post, I open the book and realize it not a book, it’s a box, oh, and it has a gun. What I was thinking, I am in trouble again, and who will believe that Aunt medi came and gave me this in rain, what should I do? My brain not even trying to scheme me out, it telling me keep the book with the gun, I decide to walk away with book. I can hear police siren in distance and hoping this time it’s not me but someone else be in trouble.