For a song the poet delivers
An image of root and gravity,
Armed with the story
Of a leader with the common touch...

The problem with writers, though, is that idealism tends to skew judgment into nebulous dogma. They romanticize and don’t politicize, so much interested in being heard and read as if the world was simply a two-act pantomime. Ha, a writer! – as though the mere mention of that could incite orgasm...

May your love grow
May Matter and Space not matter so much
And Time, may it fail to pry apart your bonded hearts
May you live to remember this love, of today...

We all seek new and want different, but the new that we have is sometimes not as new as we want it to be. And sadly sometimes the new that is there is not as visible and as solid as we want it to be. But then the voice is there, the song is still singing silently in our heads and the memories of our past and current life live together as we see and seek this new beginning of self...

He was the bright fire
Burning at the window
Of the granite house
On Broken-Gun Hills...

The term Milky Way Galaxy had been discarded in AD2255 after a combined exploratory team from Planet Earth and the Planet Populous from the Oink Nebulae had discovered around the cosmic belt close to the Milky Way Galaxy Runway, actual traces of a substance once known as Milk on the Earth Planet...

It was a good thing the Caine Prize people deemed it right to put out the shortlist on their website. I, like many handicapped literary enthusiasts, would have mastered story titles, perhaps fantasize about their text and waited till the clincher is announced late July. But instead, this year is better and by God, I have the five stories downloaded into my little laptop, all for my enjoyable consumption...

Oh Africa!
When your vision is in tandem
with your new political will to seek
clear prehistoric fountains of hope
shall flow with passion to obliterate
the ills of greed, pillage, inhumanity...