Under the sky
Under my African sky
people move like robotic fools
wooden and stiff, inflexible,
with the aid of outdated beliefs
held together with unawareness.
I sometimes think a cut and snip
or at least a mental ramp
to enable quick flows of energy
to levels not hitherto reached
and I despair but sit with my hair
undisturbed by anxiousness.
It’s all on the screen, the big picture, see
where reason and purpose are shown
but I, like the rest, don’t watch the film
because fuzzy and blurred, voices unheard,
taxes the mind of the willing to learn.
Tomorrow perhaps I’ll remember again
how to fiddle and tweak for release
from outdated beliefs
but meanwhile intuitive feel
moves within like a rolling pin
to flatten the bumps of ignorance.
Under my African sky
mind moves like a snail, evolves like a bat,
and remains blind to the beauty of love
flickering so on that big movie screen
built on the peak of belief
out of reach it would seem
from all of the fools and me!
Recent Comments