New poem!
NIGHTSCAPES
1. HOMEWARD BOUND
They trudge home, world-weary souls
Like a horde of zombies dismissed;
Released unto the world, back
Into their respective lives.
Packed into caskets on wheels,
They embark on the journey home, waiting
To return to rest; to be reborn, till
At last they arrive at the doorstep
Shedding their skins and dreams;
The dust and carbon monoxide.
Cleansed and pure, they turn the key
And step back into the familiar
Unknown.
2. DINNER
The whole world is drowned out by the
Clatter and crash of pots
And pans, the culinary
Concert in which the households
Compete for airtime, accompanied
By a cacophony of smells – the fragrant
Garlic, rice, soups and curries clamouring
To advertise each cook’s prowess and
What’s on whose dinner table tonight.
Gradually the chaos settles down
To the gentle tinkle of cutlery on porcelain
As the fruits of the past hour’s labour
Are relished amidst casual talk
And the sounds of the television
Blaring the news and cliched dramas.
And once again, for a while,
We allow ourselves to escape reality
To the celluloid fantasies on the screen.
3. NIGHT
The student buries herself in her work
Hoping that her mother gets the cue to stop nagging
Whilst the mother continues to shout commands
On the running of the world around her,
And complains about the number of dishes to do, clothes to wash, floors to mop,
And of the husband who does not help.
The said husband snores on the sofa,
Lulled to sleep by the television jingles,
Exhausted after a day of battles in the office,
Fighting for the right to put bread on his table.
In his room, the teenager hides from the storm outside
Within his chosen reality.
Here he is no longer the underachiever in school,
But a top-rate sniper, or a knight on an epic quest.
He is a hero and honour,
Not his mother’s sharp tongue,
Rings in his ears, rising above the screams for acceptance
In a world that cannot accept his need.
4. MIDNIGHT
Gradually the world winds down to a standstill
As the doors are shut, closing off private worlds,
Their subjects preparing for private dreams.
A muffled series of ecstatic grunts,
The soundtrack of love, is silenced
From the ears of the children next door.
The baby sucks her thumb and twitches,
Dreaming of her mother’s breast and of the long life ahead
While the old man lies, still as a corpse,
And sees his life story flashing
Across the black canvass of his eyelids
Like an old black-and-white movie.
The widow reaches out to the emptiness beside her,
Reaching into the emptiness of her grieving heart,
As she escapes into the haven of memories
And fantasies far away from her aching reality.
And the insomniac sits in front of his computer all night,
Staring at the blank screen
And searching through the vast spaces
For the words to do justice
To his tired soul.
5. DAYBREAK
Long before the sun rises, the world drags itself into action.
Under the cover of darkness, the deliveryman speeds along the highway,
Eager to deliver his goods quickly before heading home
To enjoy his well-earned sleep.
Through the vast spaces, the lone bird calls out desperately for love,
His desperation growing with each unanswered call.
And even as his heart-wrenching song pierces through the night,
He is outdone by the cracking rumble
Of the newspaper-man’s motorcycle.
Slowly, the sun rises, and the sky brightens,
Its light intruding on a dreaming world,
Rousing the sleepers from their respite.
The aroma of coffee and the screams
Of alarm clocks and whistling kettles greet us
As we drag ourselves away from the comfort of the quilts
To the bathroom, where we cleanse ourselves
From the persona of our dreams
And wash the sleep out of our faces
Before donning new skins and masks.
With a belly full of coffee, we bid our farewells
And step outside, ready for the same routine;
For yet another day in a cycle of yesterdays.
