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Patience

Until the mountains wash away,
until the sun has lost her rays,
until tomorrow turns today,
may I remember you.

Until the waves become the rain,
until the hurt is long lost pain,
until December’s gone again,
may I remember you.

Until there’s hope material,
until there’s purpose for this soul,
’til seeming nothing is truly all,
may I remember you.

Until the heartbeat beats in time
with a ballad’s soothing rhyme,
until I feel love’s hand in mine,
may I remember you.

Last Call

I drank my fair share,
put away more than I can remember.
And the truth is, I miss it.
I do not regret the pact I have made
to live a sober life,
but I question it sometimes…
There were nights of smoking pipes
in the drizzling rain
while surrounded by happy friends.
Then again, there’s a certain film
I can no longer watch…
The alcohol gave for certain liberation,
took away anxieties that have
plagued my mind for years.
Then again, there’s a certain person
who wishes never to see me again…
Alcohol came with ups and downs,
but so did life.
I have many drunken regrets,
but I have many sober regrets.
And on a night like this,
downing a bottle and singing
the wrong words to Les Champs-Elysees…
It sounds quite nice, is all.

Elegy for Rina Smith

When I grow up I am going to be an air-hostess.
When the aeroplane crashes I am going to be a nurse.

Rina Smith, Grade II
Codrington School Magazine, 1959

Choices… choices.

For a young girl in Chipata in 1959,
there are few choices.
For a young girl in Chipata in 1959,
there must always be a backup plan.
For a young girl in Chipata in 1959,
there are no such things as idle hands.

How lucky I am despite it all.
How lucky we are who grew up with more
than the very worst, than the unluckiest.
How lucky to have choices more than Rina Smith.

My Cumorah (II)

Green embers burn
at the heart of the hearth;
smoke wafts in an eddy,
higher and higher;
friends and family warm their lungs
on a soft, cloudy night.

My warmth comes from the flame,
coaxing flashes of bygone ashes.
My God is not so conspicuous tonight,
not in this place;
but absence is not what I feel.
I have a glowing fire and a promise
that leads me tonight,
a light that leads me
past endless night.

Old Ghosts

Oh, weary, weary mind;
why do you falter?
why does a ghost of twelve years passed
continue to plague thee thus?

Have you not sought refuge?
have you not sought light?

Then why, oh weary mind,
do you falter so
on these new nights?

My Way

I once fell for a girl
whose name I didn’t know,
whom I’d talked with for a midnight hour,
and vowed never to talk to again.

Such has always been my way.

A friend once asked me
if I were a masochist,
how I could let such a unidirectional emotion
direct my life. I had
no answer, and as a crossroads
has reached me once more,
…
I still have no answer.
All I have is experience
in putting shattered pieces of myself
back together to fall once more.

Such has always been my way.

Battlegrounds

A flash of gold and red and grey,
a deafening chorus of heartbeats,
a moment the present solely exists;
this is the anthem of war.

My right hand has been grasping
for months at smoke,
vapour caressing my fingers
while sliding through hopes.
My ghosts lie not behind me,
but in my very mind,
inside my breaking heart.

Another shard of glass
fits neatly into this endless puzzle;
a broken vase that was never made
for the purpose of gluing back together.