Sunday, 6 May 2012

30th October 2009

God wears a mask
Not recognizable any more;
Until six months ago
He was my God and benefactor,
Guardian angel and protector,
For fifty-one years of my life;
Now He wears war paint
And counts me among His enemies;
Even my cats are not spared
From His fearsome arrows,
Dropping like flies

Like victims of a holocaust
Or that of a private vendetta.

9th October 2009

Global economies to manage,
Births and deaths worldwide to keep track of,
Starving or undernourished multitudes to feed,
Hurricanes, earthquakes and conflicts around the world to respond to:
With so much for God to worry about,
I wouldn't be surprised if He's been too busy 
To open the file on His 'IN' tray marked 'Prayers Received'
And find amongst the millions of entries
The one bearing my name.

Tuesday, 1 May 2012

4th July 2009

Give thanks to the Lord
For the air we breathe upon waking up each day,
For the food that fills the hunger in our bellies,
For the jobs we have that pays our bills,
Fo the roofs over our heads,
For the water that flows every time we turn on the tap,
For the legs that move every time we walk,
For the eyes that see every time we open them,
For bringing us home safely at the end of the day,
For the peace and tranquility enjoyed throughout the land,
For everything we otherwise take for granted
And truly appreciate only when we have them no more.

16th June 2009 - II

What are we if not pawns on a giant chessboard
To be moved about as pleased
And even sacrificed if necessary
As suits the game plan or battle strategy

And when comes the time,
Eventually retired or replaced
The day the council elders grow tired and weary

Of playing the same old game with the same old chess pieces
Day in, day out,
Where a single day lasts a lifetime,
It is believed,
And where a week equals seven earthly generations,
It is also believed.

16th June 2009 - I

What a terrible thing is food
For the fuel it was intended to be
Has now become my lord and master
At whose tyrannical mercy am I
From morning till night till morning again
But if it's the engine that's really at the heart of the problem
It's the engine then that needs looking into
Rather than the fuel be faulted
In which case a new fuel source would be needed
And for which a new fuel-compatible engine would be required
As has been achieved by some of the world's major car manufacturers today
In view of a petroleum-depleted world some time tomorrow.

Sunday, 29 April 2012

31st May 2009

Heaven has moved house, leaving behind no forwarding address,
Answering no calls, leaving us to fend for ourselves amongst the wolves 
We've been thrown to in the darkness of a night that has little hope 
Of welcoming the dawn of a new tomorrow.

Heaven has abandoned us like wounded soldiers on a battlefield,
Leaving us to face the onslaught of a relentless foe
Systematically mopping up pockets of resistance whose only hope of salvation
Had been as bright as the setting sun many sunsets ago.

Heaven has abandoned us like shipwrecked sailors on a raft in stormy seas,
Leaving us to battle lashing winds and pounding waves on our own
With only the skin on our backs and sweat on our faces
And prayers answered by the fury of an unforgiving storm.

16th May 2009

What does God want from me?
He's taken away the strength I once possessed
That resided in my bones, mind and spirit
With a blood clot of a bullet to the heart,

The size twenty-seven trousers I used to wear
Have shrunk by a few sizes too small
And my eyes were on their way to becoming tiny slits

Peeking out from the flabbiness of a bloated face,

The nine-to-five job I used to have
Has slipped two months away from my grasp
And the longer I take to get my strength back
The further away slips the financial stability it represents,

The cancer sticks I used to smoke
No longer blacken my lungs
Nor do they stimulate my brain cells any more either
But better a sluggish mind than poisoned lungs I suppose,

12th March 2009

An uncompleted section of a flyover
Offers protection from the pouring rain
For motorcyclists in no hurry
To reach the next destination.
An iron-gray sky promises more rain 
At least for the next hour or so
And the nearest zero-traffic toilet is miles away.
More urgent is needing to return to the office
To finish unfinished business
Eventhough it's after five
As underscored by people heading home
Or the nearest pub
Or who knows where
In tandem with the way the dice rolled for them
In the game of life.
Remind me to have mine tested, 
The next chance I get,
For magnetic hanky-panky.

10th November 2008 - II

A month has gone by since you were last seen
And though a target had you been at first
For tomcats on the prowl and far from green
You still showed up at times to quench my thirst
For loyal to your feline roots were you 
In spite of being fearful for your life
While there was very little I could do
As absent was I in your time of strife
And now no longer seen were you at all 
And death I fear has dropped on us its load
As silence answers when your name I call
And images appear upon the road
Of broken limbs and crushed perhaps a head
Belonging to a cat that's cold and dead.

Monday, 9 January 2012

10th November 2008 - I

Oh, how I truly hate this wretched life
That robs me of the cats that I have lost
And carves my heart out as if with a knife
When life and death are traded at a cost;
Oh, how this wretched life I truly hate
That robs me of the cats that keep me sane
And wait for me whenever I am late
And know its 'beat beat' time when holding cane;
How wretched was this life despised of mine
That robs me of the cats that give me strength
And merely by their presence made it shine
Till even after daytime reached its length;
Whatever may the circumstances be,
A missing cat is still a loss to me.

31st August 2008

My heart cries for thee,  O Penang of Old,
For blocked were thy sunsets and rising moons
By concrete and steel structures tall and bold
Which blocked too the breeze on hot afternoons;
My heart bleeds for thee, O Pearl of the East,
For gone was the charm for which thou were known
By courtesy of the pile-driving beast
And concrete towers its masters have sown;
My heart mourns for thee, O Paradise Lost,
For heartlessly planned and schemed was thy death
By whatever means, at whatever cost,
Till brought to its knees was thy final breath;
My heart wails for thee, O Isle of my Birth,
Even thy grave was of concrete, not earth.

5th January 2006

If everyone were like me,
Wars would be non-existent,
Poverty a thing of the past,
Crime unheard of,
Road fatalities obsolete
And the planet overrun by cats.

Good news for fishermen
And cat food manufacturers;
Bad news for munitions factories,
West Point graduates,
Welfare homes,
NYPD cops,
Tow-truck operators
And 911 ERTs.

Good thing not everyone was like me,