Skip navigation

between the deep centre of the brain,
and the inner lining of the eyelids
when we close our eyes momentarily to blink
…such is the extent of our universe


the church and the state
the state and the church
the church of the state
the state of the church…

and there we stood,
all melted down
a puddle of murky goo
poor god
poor people,
what on earth can heaven do?

it was all just a dream he said
each night as he laid down his head
he closed his eyes and went to bed
that is how he fell asleep

every rose bush has some thorns
but not every thorn bush has a rose
the ways of life are bitter sweet
to one it’s poison, to another a treat

the brighter the light
the darker a shadow is cast somewhere
what illuminates a path
can obscure anothers dream
to see is not enough
to have enough is not to see

did you see the other houses down Memory Lane?
the time when you wondered
how the garlic and onions smelled and tasted?
the way they said they did when the others first heard of it

did it taste like they said it would
when it was first believed they did
when those who left Kermet,
those people of the Black Land
a land so black and rich
it was a dream so easy to pitch

so tell me, did you see the other houses down Memory Lane?
the last time you wondered there when it rained
and how will it look the next time you go again?
when you go there in their dreams…

we all go there

some of us never leave

This is apparently a quote from Ken Peters, Professor of Economics in the Czech Republic.

“The danger to South Africa is not Jacob Zuma, but a citizenry capable of entrusting a man like him with the Presidency. It will be far easier to limit and undo the follies of a Zuma presidency than to restore the necessary common sense and good judgment to a depraved electorate, willing to have such a man for their president. The problem is much deeper and far more serious than Mr. Zuma, who is a mere symptom of what ails South Africa. Blaming the prince of the fools should not blind anyone to the vast confederacy of fools that made him their prince. The Republic can survive a Jacob Zuma who is, after all, merely a fool. It is less likely to survive a multitude of fools such as those who made him their President.”

the covers are worn
its leather looks frayed
the introduction is over
a new turn is paged

the next chapter begins
and the story unfolds, …again

and of the plot
who can tell?
an adventure delightful
or a horror story from hell?

it was a chance event
and as luck would have it
our luck ran out
now what are the chances of that?

little bubbles on the horizon
transient rolling foam
bustling, popping, bulging, bumping
looking for some space to roam

bigger bubbles pressing through
devouring, absorbing, expanding goo
all becomes one, one becomes all
increasing the space inside the wall

smaller bubbles lose their name
new spaces form, all the same
but on the rim, the outer lip
it’s the cutting edge that steers the ship

jagged edges expand the bubble
pesky lumps which cause the ‘trouble’
the shape of new things still to come
spiky angles only spoil the fun

the spaces shout to stake their claim
to give themselves a defining name
while the edges cut and break new ground
forging on without a sound

it’s not the empty space within
but the outer rim that grows a thing
perhaps over time as we look back
we’ll learn just where our universe is at