The weekend calls for art and Mood lifting. Two poets gives us a filling smack below:
People and Sand
Julian Matthews
The people of the land are not sand
to be shovelled into wheelbarrows
and mixed with concrete and crushed gravel
and poured into your corrupted idea of ‘development’
We are the sand descended from mighty mountains
raised by tectonic plates. It has survived constant battering,
weathered erosion, travelled ancient waterways
and transcended time to take its rightful place among us
Sand can save-face. It can exfoliate
and unclog your pores or unmask
the fake face behind your deadened skin
Sand can calmly carpet your desert
dunes or be whipped up in an angry storm
It can be a beach of comfort bedding
to build imaginary castles by, or it can bury
you and your entire pyramid scheme
Sand can bring colour to a child’s heart,
mesmerise in light and shadows,
or it can blast your reign of rust and residue
and pressure incumbents to resign en masse
Sand can mark your every footfall,
race your every track, or irritate and itch
with a single grain up your butt crack
Sand is the silicon semiconductor
on this very screen!
It knows where you are coming from
and where you’ve been.
It is memory remembering everything
you’ve ever seen
We, the people of the land,
are as indestructible as sand
We may be granular, even insular
but never doubt we can get testicular
and go for the jugular!
Go ahead – try to build your wall,
us sand people will rise up
and outlive you all.
The World Dies Today
Fortune Omosola
When the world ends
Pleasure would die,
There would be nothing to buy,
Money will back into a prism and
Man’s greatest fear will collapse into an eternal pit,
The ace wouldn’t be about survival,
It would be where?
Mountains and sea would sink into the air,
Pain would be in a manifold layer of timeless prison.
