The Free and the Dumb

Philosophy and Poetry

I die once again by the river in my dreams,
Hoping all I built once upon a time gleams;
But I shiver as the castle in the sky falls down,
And hopes are shattered upon cold, old ground,
To the rapturous roars of the lords of lies,
Cloaked in their politics and watched by eyes,
That never understand despite what they see,
And never evolve beyond their primitive glee,
To realize the prison does not trap what is free,
And a world of slaves is what is their equality.

We are climbing the walls,
The high walls…
We are climbing the walls,
As it all falls.

These People

Philosophy and Poetry, , ,

These people that live short lives of irrelevant beauty,
Are the art that litters the books of forgotten history;
Someone burnt down the museum but not the library,
Said the words were too hot for flames of the literary.

So I talked to these people and spent all day drinking,
They told of the treasures of ignorance and thinking;
But the dark waters rose as their boats were sinking,
Last I saw they were deep under water, lights blinking.

I buried their fading memory on the shores of denial,
I hung my head and thought of their dreams awhile;
Not for heroes, but for them I couldn’t help but smile,
For it is the common people that truly live lives of trial.

A Worrying Sign

General Thoughts, , ,

Here is my opinion on the “controversial” FNB advert…
Before even voting, the electoral process and all the related paraphernalia of a healthy democracy, the foundation of the democratic system is actually the individual’s freedom of speech. The ability for people (and businesses) to say what they think offers the ability for a nation to have a national dialogue, discussing important topics, bouncing ideas around and sharing information. This is the basis of forming a “national opinion”, which the basis of collective decision making, i.e. the electoral process that most people think of when they think of democracy.
The freedom of speech also includes the ability to openly and honestly criticize Government without the fear of retribution. Those people elected into a public position must accept that they are there for the people’s benefit, not the people for theirs. Hence, public commentary (including criticism!) of those in public office is a reality.
If they did not want commentary on themselves, they should not be in public office. Those in public office cannot have their cake and eat it. It’s that simple.
Now I think the FNB advert is actually quite a positive, hopeful advert and had little (i.e. nothing) to do with the ANC, the Government and the “aggrieved parties”. But, ignoring what I thought, the ANC’s (and hence the Government’s) aggressive response is quite telling. Furthermore, the fact that FNB felt the need to pull the advert off air is even more telling, given the context I have set above…
With no true freedom of speech, we risk not being a democracy.
That simple.

Loving Ghosts

Philosophy and Poetry, , , , ,

I recall the sweetest fall,
Where angels wept in the skies;
The cold drink before it all,
Couldn’t hide the fire in your eyes,
As smoke curled around our form,
I could see the future was closed,
And the present was stillborn,
As long as I was loving ghosts.

The sun was high as was I,
When you sailed past like a cloud,
Caught the breeze to catch your eye,
As whispers of love grew loud;
The gods themselves would part seas,
So I could walk to your side,
But even they could not seize,
A drowning heart beneath the tide.

And the sun was high as I stood,
On that lonely strip of the coasts,
I swear I did all that I could,
But still I remain loving ghosts.

You Cannot See the Shore

Philosophy and Poetry

And so I walked until I could not see shore,
I talked until silence was just so much more,
Above starlit bird symphonies touched high,
But low was the place I woke up on the floor.

Smoked and drank, smiled and rank the way,
Until just the sunrise was blurred lights’ day,
In corners of the eyes I once believed I owned,
I opened and I blinked—winked—I would say:

Not a grand way, not a terrible path at all,
Nothing, and nothing was the way I saw fall,
When the floor and sunrise touched a man,
That lay on the warm grave of a life I feel can.

And so I walked until I could not see shore.