ODYSSEY OF SWINGING VICISSITUDES
that tis a land of plenty for the bold
of fast cars and towering skyscrapers
where even the dishwasher makes a million dollars
Like a golfer her sight she set on the green
and pipe dreams she began to spin
growing them like fragile mushrooms,
constructing sandy castles with empty rooms
Full of the familiar and stubbornly saturated,
of those mountains and monotony unabated,
a rightful longing of diversity brooded
boiling within her entrails undaunted.
Her expectation and stifled anticipation grew
and so envy from those to be left she drew
who like her nurture naïveté and convenience
But time’s that master who teaches in connivance with experience
Now uprooted far from the fertile
Like kraut unwanted from the pile.
The potent concoction of curiosity and anxiety
Set her in a trance-like perplexity
A perplexity that faded with dawning reality
in a place of pervading hostility.
A return not even remotely contemplated
For further apart the rift has now shifted
Where can this uprooted being anchor?
Why did she believe in tales void of candour?
The grail search enforced a redefinition of her essence
a quintessence of the loss of primordial existence.
She traces her steps back to a bolted door
and moving forward she is just a moor
Throwing its tentacles in all directions
In an attempt to halt the gyrations.
The mirror now a pile of broken glass
For her altering alien reflection an unbearable harass
A brutal coercive reminder of a double failure
a battering castigation for ignoring the cure.
Now an alien, she left her home again this time for Nowhere
She’s out of breath, she’s out for death, she’s out of time
There in that land she made her bed, lay in it but she was not there
She’ll die tonight, rise up Somewhere, there she’ll be fine
As the sun set that night
So did her heart set in fright.
The sadness in her soul was now a sickness
A disease so profound her life was in darkness
She tossed and turned and writhed in pain
A moan so raw you could feel her throat strain
The nightmares of life lived burnt her mind in her sleep
She died a thousand deaths there in its deep
Far from home far from her hope
She awakes in sweat-soaked bed to mope
Her tears spring forth like rain
Remembering when she was home and vain
Way back then she was a queen in a castle
Way out here she’s a penny with a hole in it
She lost her soul, she lost her name, she lost her marble
The quest and dream for more now has a hole in it
That day she woke in utter transformation
A purified change like from Saul to Paul she met
Lay down with nightmares of damnation
Now rising seeing visions like a Prophet
The song of her journey was rising again
The crescendo unfolds her redemption
She’s new again, different again, this time no pain
She’s still her queen, she’ll reign again, her heart her nation
Still a queen always will be just different castle
Far away from that land of her first birth
She stomps the past with her mortar and pestle
And blooms in this new haven in its berth
MAH MEKOLLE
TAMI MONONO
September 2013
Filed under: POETRY LOVERS CORNER
