Saturday 3 June 2023

No Future

When you think really deeply, there is nothing like future. Of course, if you discount Future Fambo, and Future the rapper. But today, I am incapable of thinking really deeply. I’ll offer a superficial analysis of my hypothesis on why there is nothing like future.

It dawned on me, and I am quite astounded, that I am really old. Somewhere along the highway of sweet twenties, I got waylaid by some aliens who convinced me that growing up stopped at 20+x years. It could be a nice way to live if you had oil wells pumping under your armpits. The stench would be bearable to the fairer gender.

20+x years imprints a fatalistic here-and-now mentality. At this age, the future does not exist. There is nothing like a month from now. A year from now? We’ll be probably dead after consuming mercury-laced sugar if not OD.

After Y years have elapsed, the bubble might burst suddenly or gradually. It can be sudden when you go back to the village and that small boy who used to ask you stupid questions as young children are wont, is married with two children. And the wife is probably hot, too, if round off motherhood to the nearest 18 years.

And the little champ has built a house!! It might not be that grand per say, but it is his house. He can wake up and demolish it and no one would give him shit. We would think he is mad though even if it is his own house, built with his own money. And he probably has an old rickety motorbike that would give you tetanus or marasmus – whichever comes first. But damn it! It’s his motorbike, bought with is own sweat and blood.

And then there is you, stuck at 20+x years with a bunch of diplomas and degrees, and a whacky philosophy about life and everything that makes it throb. Whacky here means contrary to popular belief, that is, politics, social, and financial. And religion.

Back to future. It only exists because you decide not to live now. For instance, you could make a little money and decide to postpone spending it now. You willfully deny yourself pleasure to spend it at a later now, which if think closely, will still be now. You will never be alive in a future, you are only alive now, at this present, and one breath, one heartbeat, and one second at a time.

But then if you think like this, you will stagnate and turn murky and greenish like stagnant water.

Where You Can't Afford Sentimentalism

when you wash ashore 
alone, and lost in an island 
you will not care anymore 
about who should hold your hand 

you will not be sentimental 
feelings will be replaced by survival instincts 
you will revert to the natural 
living within the new precincts

and when nights sail by 
no more thoughts of unrequited love 
when night creatures prowl nearby 
you'd only wish you lived above 

Monday 29 May 2023

The Spider

the spider dexterously spins its web
its gangly feet hold it midair 
a slight touch of its web 
and the spider bungee jumps 
and when the danger passes 
it hoists itself up, like a crane 
but the question remains - 
why doesn't it get stuck in its own web?

The Writer and His Excuses

I will not write today, 
the wind blows in a sinister manner 
and has misaligned my creativity stars

I will not write today 
the table creaks in a way 
that grates my soul 

I will not write today 
I am yet to discover 
one chore I haven't done yet 

I will not write today 
something somewhere is just not right 
I can't point it out, so I will not write 

I will not write today 
for I am not anybody's favorite poet 
except I have the illusion 
that I was born with a gift of the gab 

I will not write today 
my mouse is not working 
I had never thought - to my dismay 
how much a mouse meant to my creativity 


The Songs

the songs that you both loved listening to,
echo in a distant with haunting clarity 
and the chaos that you once embraced 
becomes entangled with reality, 
muddying it, destroying all illusions 
and creates storms that you never, 
in a million years, anticipated, 
you become limp 
unaware, 
unsure, 
of what to do 

You Will Get Used To It

one day, just one day, 
you will get used to the cold embrace 
of loneliness 
you will cherish how numb you are 
when you think of them, 
how they hurt you 
how they took you for granted 
how they often forgot you are human 
 - a feeling human 
one day you will unfurl all the memories 
and scatter them like chaff 
and watch them disappear 
and feel nothing about it 
one day you will get used to not 
missing them 
and on that day, you will live as 
though they never existed 
and you will be free 
alone, but free 

The World

the world is a fiery ball of madness 
dizzyingly spinning in its orbit 
churning, relentlessly, days and nights 
some that happen, and plenty that don't 

the world is a fitting arena 
for both the wise and fools alike 
each dances to their tunes 
and leave their own distinct legacies 
when breath becomes air 

the world offers an equal chance 
it has always been fair like that 
but it never guarantees equal outcomes 
for none deserves more than they should 
none more than they are willing to give