Outside

Outside, water trickles into a bucket.  drip. drip. drip.

Outside, a beetle is ambushed by driver ants. It’s putting up a fight. For its life.

Outside, a gust of wind surges past, rattling the iron sheet.

Outside, baboons chatter animatedly, after a successful raid on a nearby homestead.

Outside, a hen cackles helplessly after losing her two remaining chicks. They didn’t die; she just doesn’t know where they are. She literally lost them. Like the other three.

Outside, the two girls who live next door are chatting. They always have something to talk about.

Outside, a kite(bird) glides in the wind.

Outside, the one-eyed stray cat, almost symmetrically black and white, black on the left, white on the right, except for the face, tail and paws(grey, of course), is taking a nap.

Outside, music from the movie shop rents the air.

Outside, birds are suddenly chirping. Like they just realized it’s almost midday and they didn’t sing their morning songs.

Outside, the trees are dancing in the wind, like the wind is a song only they can understand.

Outside, two men talk about last night’s game. How the result was obvious.

Outside, a butterfly flutters. erratically.

Outside, behind his house, he smokes a blunt casually. Enjoying every hit. Always.

Outside, the tap runs dry, croaking out the drops as it breathes its last.

Outside, the ants carry away beetle’s remains. Yesterday a beautiful moth suffered the same fate. It wasn’t as slow to move as the beetle, but it had somehow fallen on its back and couldn’t turn over. In that helpless position it had been devoured, chunk by mothy chunk as it writhed in pain until it finally died.

Outside, a baby throws a tantrum. The toy she got isn’t the color she wanted.

Outside, a door closes. A padlock snaps. Footsteps walk away.

Outside, a bee buzzes from flower to flower, sampling the nectar.

Outside, a gentle wind caresses the bed sheet hung out to air. The way it undulates, like it’s being massaged… So beautiful.

Outside, a spider weaves a web across the mouth of a shoe, unaware it won’t last a day. The spiders here are always doing that. Damn spiders.

Outside, a cock crows; a crow caws.

Outside, the jalopy across the street wheezes to life, the exhaust coughing out a pathetic sputter.

Outside, a jerry can falls into a well. Its splash echoes in the opposite direction.

Outside, a motorcycle zooms past. The rider shrieking excitedly at the top of his voice. The thrill of speed.

Outside, a woman is washing utensils. She hums a local tune, punctuated by the clatter clang of pot and pan.

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Tears

 

She wanted to cry

She really did

But life had already

Put her through so much

The well from which her tears sprung

Might have long since dried

 

She wanted to cry

Then she remembered,

The world didn’t give a fuck

The world….

 

She could cry all she wanted,

She would be a sitting duck

Floating,

On an ocean of tears

 

She wanted to cry

But she was afraid

Of drowning in her sorrows

Her fears greater than her tears

 

Sometimes a tear escaped,

But that was okay

To her one tear was enough

One tear was all the crying she needed

P.E.V.

Sitting in denial because of the contradiction

Flipping a coin to decide on the decision

Blood boiling in their brains,

Venomous wrath flowing in their veins

That intoxication spilling onto the nation

Blue boys summoned to carry out the mission

Disguised as the ordinary population

In the name of justice; intimidation and elimination

 

Wolves in sheep skin, Gentle turned aggressive

Scratched their backs and grants they received

That was more than enough incentive

Hired guns held by hired sons

The blood of the innocent shall blot out the sun

 

They put laughter in slaughter,

Turning the state into an abattoir

Please spare my daughter!

I’m sorry but this is part of my repertoire.

 

Untouchable unbeatable insensible insatiable

Creating, instigating, no debating, decapitating

They were denied what they believed was rightfully theirs

They weren’t the new heirs

The throne wasn’t theirs for the taking,

But the violence was theirs for the faking….

 

 

Triumph

Triumph

Flag raised. If it were not for the big blood stain, you could see that is was white. It was a make-shift but he didn’t give a shit anymore. He was tired. He never really wanted any of this. He hated every minute of it, but he had made his bed. The people he had killed had done nothing to him. Or his partners.

They just followed orders, and in this parts, their lives depended on it. “Shoot to kill.” Leave no enemy untouched. But whose enemy was it? His country’s probably. Ah, patriotism. He had come to realise it was a disease. He didn’t even know what he, no they were fighting for.

Now, as the shoot-out ended, bodies lay everywhere, and him, the sole survivor on his team, had no more ammunition and no back up. After-all this had just been a routine sweep before leaving for home tomorrow, with the war having been declared a triumph 2 days ago. The sheer irony made him smile. His wife and son would be waiting for him at the base tomorrow. As he thought about them he began to remove the blood stained flag they had used as a bandage when Frankie was shot in the leg 5 minutes ago then in the head as he screamed in pain. Now Frankie lay before him, limp and lifeless, another casualty of war.

They had stopped shooting, but he knew they were too many to be all dead. He tied the flag to the barrel of his gun and raised it and waved, hoping they would understand the gesture. Silence. He waved it again. Nothing. They had realised what he was trying to do! Gathering his strength and using his gun as a support, he stood up. At least he might see his son one day, maybe take him to see the new Star Wars movie. He looked up.

They were standing in a line, guns at the ready, waiting for the survivor to show himself. Each of them had lost someone to the war, a war that at first had nothing to do with them. He could see them, standing there, a stance hardened by the throes of war. If they hadn’t shot him by now, they probably weren’t going to shoot him. He limped over the barricade and raised his hands above his head, as a sign of surrender. They watched him for a while then began to lower their weapons. He couldn’t believe it!

A sudden movement in the top floor window of the 2 storey building to his left caught his eye. It didn’t matter. The bullet hit him before he heard the gunshot. Suddenly he was falling into the blackness. Funny, what was that about the light at the end of the tunnel? The last thing he saw before the darkness consumed him was the general congratulating them on a victorious war. The sniper slowly dismantled his gun, a grim look on his face. He had never had such an easy shot, but he was glad. He pulled out the pendant on his necklace and kissed it as he watched his brother’s killer fall to the ground, in his eyes, a look of triumph.

 

Adrift

Adrift

via Daily Prompt: Adrift

Moving forward,

Not even sure where forward was anymore,

Not without a sense of direction

The mirages had disoriented him.

at this point his legs moved on their own accord,

anything just to keep moving.

Even adrift,

he would eventually get somewhere,

hopefully alive,

and get a helping hand

or lose himself even more

and drown in this sea of sand.

 

Hearrt-break Re-biirth

 

In a moment of weakness

I let my guard down

And she took advantage of me

Advantage of a past love

One with which I couldn’t cope.

For me it was a certainty

That there would be no forgiveness

That this fairy tale

Had an unlikely anti-climax

And yet you say

Despite my doubts,

Despite my mistakes,

Despite… yourself,

You still love me,

Does that mean,

I can dare to dream

I can dare to hope

That we may bury this hatchet

That our story

May still have

A happy ending?