Friday, January 11, 2013

New Year’s Day in Kolonia

White spider webs, black termite dust.
Chicken roasting on red hot coconut husks. 
Children roam the city trumpeting their youth; 
banging out their lust for life
on metal signs and metal drums.

With betel nut smiles and
barely a glance they pass me by;
a sterile specter of glory stumbled.
They have no knowledge, concern, or care
for those of us who’ve moved on in years.

I miss that rhythm, I miss those days.
Exalting life, confessing love.
The only cadence I offer now,
in greeting yet another year -
an awkward wave of fretful hands
and my rotting shoes all torn to hell.

- Just a peasant


Anonymous hellopoponta said...

We can hardly turn back the time, but don't you ever get the urge to grab hold of a bass guitar and start playing endlessly?
I for one would love to hear you play. Not the music of your past self, but from you present.

Ayano xxx.

11:00 PM  
Anonymous just a peasant said...

Hi Ayano,

No I don't. I wouldn't know what to play and I'm sure I would say all the wrong things.

8:24 AM  
Anonymous hellopoponta said...

I apologize that my remark was too hawkish to the point of offending. Your stand was (and still is) totally valid and most of all, sincere. I always always appreciate that.
I will try to take better control of my tendency to be argumentative in the future.

I hope that you'll forgive me for my coarseness, it's the way I am.

Ayano xxx.

10:23 AM  
Anonymous just a peasant said...

Oh my! You didn't offend me at all. The tone of my response was pensive. I don't expect people to agree with anything I say. Argue as much as you want to.

12:29 PM  

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