Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, May 23, 2010

100523 Havaianas Beats II

In simple rubber we try to keep the steps
The beats of our feet in sync
Swinging arms of alternate halves
The smiles and laughs
But arms can't keep up without...
Without one awkwardised half

Joint shoulders give slower walk..
But who needs speed when in beat?
Nice spoon give numb limbs
Who needs circulation when we can smell?

No perfection.. Just affections..
Passion.


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Friday, February 26, 2010

Invictus

An inspiring story to start with  -  Mandela winning the hearts of ALL South Africans and Pinaar's World Cup winning Springboks.

I remember how they broke the rugby world's hearts when they beat a Jonah Lomu-led All Blacks team... on hindsight, probably deprived arguably the best known rugby player ever a world cup winning medal.

Who can forget Nelson Mandela's story of forgiveness and inspiration?

The film? Well.... Morgan Freeman as Mandela is a no brainer and he didn't dissapoint. Matt Damon was casted for his great acting skills and not his rugby skills nor knowledge - obvious. Clint Eastwood's direction was great.

Inspiring film overall.

However, we don't get the deliberate factual twist though...
Tthe story surrounds a hand written passage president Mandela passed to his rugby captain Pinaar. This same passage helped Mandela though his years in prison, and consequently helped Pinnar inspire his team to victory.

In Real life... it was a quote from a famed Theodore Roosevelt speech titled "The Man in the Arena" the Sorbonne in Paris, France on April 23, 1910.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

In the film (and the title)... they changed it to the short poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley
:
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

 Both powerful... maybe they just want a more poetic passage.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

310110 nights like these

0400 hours.. .

Nights like these.. the doors appear.. Sides rear their heads
Nights like these.. Vision unclear.. Whiskey n cigarettes..

Enter the boy.. When was he out? How long since?
Pleasant surprise.. Not really aloud.. Just a nice pinch
Made the devil look.. Hello lost doors.. We meet again..
Look at the time.. Darkest few hours.. Conscience remains..
We have missed us all.. So how goes it, All blacks and reds?
Are we here to conclude.. Or have the shits, chance congregate?
Ah maybe its time.. The devil's prey, to know her fate..
Light of the braves.. the boy's prayers, not to be delayed
Rest of us.. Are we cheerleaders, distractors, illusionists or spectators?

Nights like these.. lives are amusing.. Scripts n muselettes. .
When light begins.. Will there be music.. Angel or mussette?
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Tuesday, January 26, 2010

250110 Feet

Feet.. I love them..
But often can't feel my own
Feels like I own more than 2
Or they are just not pairly born

Hers.. I love them
In my hands I felt they belong
Wish I could keep them..
So she wanders no more..
So I can have her attention..
And she wonders no more..


Damn the last mess I still have to clear


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Thursday, January 14, 2010

130110 Accidental Emptiness, part#1

Confirmation...
1 year of self exile from my heart, bear no soul..
For a cheap shallow life u still chose..
I wear not despair nor agro..
Just a disappointing sorrow..
Enjoy little D, old girl.. Hope I'm for once, wrong n hurled
Enjoy the Es, old girl.. Hope they light up, your new world..

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

040110 SINless is dangerous

This has gotta end..
Before it all makes sense..
And scares the shit off your pants
This has gotta end..

There's one u'll never think of love
Curious to trace the ink.
See how it leads to pink..
Couldn't keep on her feet
She is tainted by your lead
She's not a piece of SG sheet
You can't keep painting that colour
U stink of darkened pits
You can't keep tasting that flavour

This has gotta end..

The one u used to love...
High priestess of speed
Burning rubber immortals
When the smoke retreats
Empty rumble of immorals
Uncut ropes will still tangled
With aching smell of lust
Who is free n who's still strangled?
How can u tell with orgasmic masks

This has gotta stop.

The one you cannot love
Why not? The kids will be tall and pretty
Maybe whiny but genius crazy
Sexual, intellectual, sexual, intellectual,
maximo
Such stimulating intensity, above and below
But no connectivity, no links of the souls
Still, Why no??
If you do you'll never truly sleep
If you do you'll never truly eat
You might never feel your feet..
But you might be very very fit

This has gotta stop..

There's one whom u love
Can't mantain no cool
Can't get grip nor clue
Loss in your own sub conscience
Late with every action
U see her in every corner
Drink for her every thirst
Wa(o)nder in her every splendour
Speak of her in every converse
Dream of her in every glimmer
With absence of sexual urge..
Is this love... or just your own image of love?
Do you wonder and not act? why not act and then die trying?

These have gotta end..
Before there are more ones
Before they make sense, as one..
And ends me....

Saturday, January 2, 2010

020110 preoccupation

Hello rush.. Hello train..
missing train by 7 steps..
Hello preoccupation with pirates n gypsies..
hello rush.. Hello plane..
missing is such a drag..

It took a drag(queen) and some minor begging, to let me check in ..
Even though counter lights were off and she was just preoccupied minesweeping..
Nice drags are 'she's..
Missing can be nice drags.... A drag is still a drag

It's a strange thing, this preoccupation.. Almost like a friend.. Yet acts like a fiend..
Sets up the pose, then missing the action
Braves up the rose.. then forget the note!

They r peculiar, my preoccupations.. Like drugs wif misprescriptons..
Turns a minor genuis to a major dope.. In certain company..
Coolness on crush to a sloppy soap.. Lets slip the lady..

Viscious.. them preoccupations..
Shows a writer' lunacy and a sucker clarity
Gives focused ability while slices versatility

Preoccupation kills the Jack..
Missing is still a drag..

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010110 10+am

Gave a Rose without(forgot) the note, lotsa thoughts but no words..
Lotsa words but no rope, just as well he'll forget to hook..
Gave the smiles and the jokes... er again - which way to go?
Lotsa miles and bumpy slopes... which gear - high or low?
Give the dog a bar of soap, help the poo and find the bones..
This boy may have none a hope, the girl has neither time nor shown...

i'm a forgetful chicken shit idiot.. What a combo =]