The Naked Face

It all began with chance.

A case of happenstance.

Walking away so easy that day

Yet familiar tuggings making me stay

And as you drew close my self preservation

Said, ‘Wait right there! Don’t come any closer!’

It didn’t scream loud enough for you drew ever nearer

First the wall broke down.

It seemed to melt away so quickly

Like a wall poster in heavy rain.

I don’t think you noticed it was there

But I knew it was gone the first time I told you

A complete truth without fear

With no thought

For its import.

Me beneath my cloak and mask

Wanted to run away.

Curious rabbit wanted to ask

Many questions and wanted to stay.

Wanted to know why you act and talk

The way you do

Wanted to know the true bulk

Unravel the mystery behind you.

The hand that used to hold the cape closed

Now gripped yours like life-purchasing gold.

The concealant comes slipping down

My hand

To the ground

I barely notice

For I’m looking

Right at you

It drops in a neglected pool.

I want to grab it

While holding on to you.

Clumsy effort!

I must choose

The cloak or you?

Now we are arm in arm

‘So what’s the harm?

He still can’t see me.’

I reason it to be.

The face beneath the mask

Buried like a cask

In the ground.

You stop and there’s no sound.

I’m taken aback.

Hoping not to catch flak

You’re looking at the mask

With questioning eyes.

‘Oh this!’, I begin the task

Of telling you the familiar lies.

‘It’s part of me, I promise you.’

Your reply makes one thing clear

It comes off soon

No matter how much I hold it dear.

We continue to talk

As we continue our walk

But we’re stalling

And we stop again.

Your hand reaching up

To lift my visor

I’m stunned

At your audacious move

But I let you.

The part of me that does not follow the rules

Lets you touch it.

And in that split second

That you see the hidden,

Shock comes unbidden.

To look upon the misshapen,

Mismatched and forsaken.

You see my naked face

And my mask slips back into place.

 

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Prayer to a Muse

Free the words in my heart! O muse!

Do not delay. Do not refuse.

For they burn deep in the frame

Like the embers within the flame.

 

Fan the conflagration, sweet muse

Else hot coals turn to ash and refuse.

My sweet words becoming brackish

As water from old pipes – rustish.

 

And now hear me, dear muse

For my words dry up with use.

Renew the flow I pray you

That I may once again see plane view.

 

Sky Blues

The signs pull into view,

The officials with their tags and uniforms,

Ushering I with my forms

To the lines for luggage and pass,

Before entering economy class

Shoes off for the scan-o-matic,

Along with anything electronic.

Long lines to the tarmac,

Overhead storage – in with the back pack.

 

The anonymousness of the space,

Looking around to keep pace.

People asleep even before lift-off.

Young people returning to roots,

Men on a business commute.

Strapped in and snug

As a bug in a rug.

The low hum of the cogs,

Voices over the intercom,

The timelessness of that cocoon,

No way to count but by the moving hands.

Being thrown back in your seat,

Moving forward at high speed

I alone with my thoughts,

My planning and my plots.

Occasionally glancing at the watch,

The whites outside the window causing blotch.

Land comes into view.

The end of this aerial move.

I want to tell the head on board,

‘Let me off here, I’m seriously bored’

Coming down to terra firma,

And now time to do the clearance.

I wheel out my luggage,

To continue the rest of my passage.

 

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The day I Saw the World

On the day that I saw the world.

For the first time, frightening, I so feeble,

So wide and big and filled with people.

I, weeping for the loss of the cocoon that shielded,

They, rejoicing for the gain of a one so awaited.

The questions in mind as they hoisted me high,

A doctor, lawyer, writer or why!

Even a president, their dreams did fly.

In the twenty odd years that have come and gone,

And the sorrows and joys I have seen and borne,

In this, I remain thankful, most of all to You,

Lord most high, without you I’d be in a stew.

Even when I am in the wrong,

Your grace is there to keep me strong.

And my family, support of my existence.

Thank you so much for your love and persistence.

I frustrate you a lot. Yes I do.

But you’re all my favourite boos.

To my friends both near and far,

Know that you are always dear to my heart.

And though I may not call and text adlib,

I should hope we will meet in a better place anon.

With this I say happy birthday to me.

With hopes and prayers many more to see.

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Speech Stats

Image via Wikipedia

I like to go through stats. My blog, my email, I thrive on knowing details – it’s a habit of mine that’s been around. When I turned my attention to my phone and was looking at the usage stats on my phone recently, I was quite surprised to see that I’d logged over a hundred and seven hours of talk time. Now I am a very conservative user of the phone seeing as it’s been with me for almost two years and I am not in any way addicted to mid – night calls but the sheer amount of time that I’ve spoken for just took me aback – a little.

So I sit there thinking ‘over a hundred hours of talk time. What did I say?’ In view of the fact that most of these calls were made in few minute increments that’s a lot of calls to a lot of people. So what have I been saying to all these people? Have I spent the time complaining and carrying on? Have I spent the time making silly small talk or have I even said something brilliant to anyone in all that time? Have I ever said a word that helped someone get over something?

It’s easy to ignore what a few minutes can do but when they add up, we tend to start wondering where the time went and what we spent it doing. It reminds me of the part of scripture that says that men shall give account of every idle word spoken. That gives me a lot to think about, doesn’t it?

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