THIS THING WE CALL SPACE

Space is not just space

You can call it an ace

Or even a race

Term it matter

Term it substance

Even name it form.

It`s both concrete and abstract

It`s here and there

It`s everywhere and nowhere

It`s masculine and it`s feminine.

It`s cosmic

It`s nebulous

It`s compact

It`s scattered

It`s little

It`s large

It`s drifting

It`s stable.

It`s filled with the moon, the stars and constellations

It holds our destiny

It contains galaxies

It spins odes

It chants dirges

It brings light

It spells darkness.

It`s a new world

It`s an old world

It`s day

It`s night.

We use it

We abuse it

We respect it

We invade it.

It`s man

It`s God.

WHAT WAS MY CRIME?

Was I wrong?

Really tell me, was I?

Everyone was seated

I was late, I admit

But I apologized

Then sat on the only unoccupied seat

Happy not to draw attention

For the wrong reasons

But then, heads turned

And everyone stared

Suddenly, they all got up like one person

Shouted insults at me

Raised their hands

And threw lots of rotten things at me

Eggs

Tomatoes

Meat

Cheese

Porridge.

Why?

Was I wrong?

YOUR POROUS DEFENCES

It`s crazy

But why so?

Windbreakers aren`t mere landmarks

They`re silver pilchards

Etched on soft canvass

But pitched like a sorry tent

On the neighbor`s territory.

So, don`t be so lazy

Because when comes the willow

You won`t be able to hold the cracks

We shall overrun all your orchards

And not even Obama will canvass

Because for once we shall be hell bent

Hell bent on snatching a victory.

THE DAY OUR PASTOR MOURNED

We had a backlog

That`s why we had a wheel clog

That was on a Sunday morning

Just when our pastor went into mourning.

OUR STANCE WITH THE LOVE BIRDS

Yes, we maintain our stance

Although we`re not in a trance

When the love birds start encircling

We`ll start retreating.

BECRADLED WITHOUT A VOICE

We have a voice

But we don`t have a choice

When we get entangled

We cry out we`re becradled

Is it so wrong?