Ethos of the Soldier

General and soldier are one and the same.

For your wearied hearts there is no soothing.

In a fight where there is no one to blame,

You do your best to keep on moving.

Your fight is born of unfounded fears.

You have lost your heart and the comfort of tears.

You look at the sky and wonder “why”?

Following orders you dare not defy.

Losing your voice to the battle drum,

How much more before you succumb?

Blind as you are, you jump right in.

Caught in a fight you cannot win.

With a limp in your stride,

You soldier on out of pride,

Knowing full well that freedom has died…

Fade to Black

By Jeffrey Kwesiga 31 March 2012

You stand as an exile in your own reality, a darkness encroaching upon the light,

They very heart of darkness that bore the stars and the beautiful night.

Your estranged beauty leaves them cowering in fear,

They tell you that you are ugly against all they hold dear.

They cast you out like sin to sing a desolate song on a lonely flight.

You fold your dreary wings,

And watch them turn their backs,

The world was meant for beautiful things,

Now turn yourself and fade to black.

You sing your song of joy today, your voice booming with pride,

An anthem for the love you hold, in the darkness deep inside.

They greet your gift with shock and horror, hiding their faces, and covering their ears,

They scream at you with angry tears.

“How dare you sing in our perfect silence and fill our dreams with fears!”

You fold your dreary wings,

And watch them turn their backs,

The world was meant for beautiful things,

Now turn yourself and fade to black.

Their sickly child lies dying, the gift they loved the most,

As you approach they feel your presence like an icy chilling ghost.

She has fought long but the light begins to dim as the day gets late.

They shun your words of comfort and curse your face with hate.

Only one face turns to see you looking tender and mild,

As you are greeted by the unexpected smile of a dying child.

Her tiny hands reach across the void and stroke your sullen wings,

Blind since birth she says they are the most perfect of things.

Looking up she sees a face for the very first time,

And tells you how yours was always the most sublime.

Shocked and surprised you wonder what she must mean.

How can you compare when mine is the only face you have ever seen?

She answers, “When I could not see with my eyes I saw with my heart,

Your words were the only words of comfort right from the start”.

I appreciated everything and hated that we were apart.

Smiling you tell her, “I am sorry my dear but once again we must part,

But do not worry, our friendship is just at its start”.

You guide her back across the void and into the light.

Her blind eyes open as they wail and curse the night.

They hold her tight vowing never to let go,

Your face cradles a smile as the dawn begins to grow.

You fold your dreary wings,

And watch them turn their backs,

The world was meant for beautiful things,

Now turn yourself and fade to black.

Back In 2013

So here I am in 2013 post Mayan Doomsday. As far as proposed doomsday events go that was a total flop. All humanity did was invade some poor unfortunate village and France. Life still ticks on as usual. I guess we should find that comforting in some way. 

As promised I have returned from the netherworld of procrastination to fulfill my promise of reinstating the blog. It is like Bruce Wayne returning to the bat cave but not nearly as glamorous and with far fewer gadgets and cool stuff. Simple and understated.

I have come to realize that this strange thing we call blogging actually does take a lot of work to keep up. Especially coming up with good content, which will be my mission for the year. It is all well and dandy to put up stuff relevant to your life, but the real trick is putting something up that will be relevant to someone else. I hope to be someone who can do the latter rather than just someone else littering the internet with word spam.

Hold onto your keyboards, mice, tablets, and phones, because here we go 2013!

The Edge of Night

The Edge of Night

By Jeffrey Kwesiga 

17/01/2012

Your mind is up and your thoughts are racing,

So much more you still have left to do,

You body lies tense, adamant, and bracing,

Breathe a desperate sigh for the reality you hold onto.

Letting your body sink to earth, you lose the sheets,

Your eyes glaze over as you venture worlds away.

The universe fills your mind with stunning ease.

The cotton fades to cloud and the roof melts away.

Your ears fill with the electric music of the night,

For a brief moment you are man and god,

Your garments of reality are defiantly shod.

Feeling the manic rhythm of the night,

Your liberated soul is set alight,

As restless fantasies grow wing and take flight.

In a place where no one can follow,

You have become the overlord,

Beginning and end of all you see.

The epitome of all you could ever wish to be.

You live a thousand lifetimes in the space of one,

You are traitor, and martyr in the flash of a day,

Bending will and world to your sacred way.

Your creation and destruction are rivalled by none.

Slowly you feel your power slip as humanity shackles its slave,

Waking you up to realize you are but froth on a wave.

Reminded in this world that once again,

The kingdom you saw was not your reign,

It was a world meant for the force that made the wave,

A force that whispered your birth and hummed your grave.

Dreams

Beauty Dreams-Daydreaming from Fanpop.com

Dreams have always been a mysterious part of human existence. Throughout human history they have been seen as signs of the future, gateways to the hidden meaning of life, entertainment for the resting mind, a way to make subconscious sense of daily events, among various other purposes.  Perhaps other forms of life dream as well. Maybe your dog really is chasing a rabbit when he starts running on the carpet with his eyes closed. Although the purpose of dreams is yet to be fully understood, their power to transport, inspire, and in some cases fundamentally change us makes them a fascinating and sometimes revered facet of human life. The Edge of Night aims to capture the incredible sense of freedom that dreams can lend to the dreamer. This poem also highlights the stark transition from the freedom of dreaming to the sharp contrast of earthbound reality governed by force outside of human control.

The Weight of Life

Flag Bearer's Daughter by Mitch Griffiths at Halcyon Gallery from http://www.artreview.com

Sometimes life can seem almost insurmountable, throwing us so many curve balls, disappointments, false starts, and doubts. How do we keep going? What is is that gets people to say that they will continue despite having no answers, and limited options? The human spirit is a surprising, trivial, and amazing thing. The ones who seem to have the least in life and the most difficulty seem to smile brighter than the ones who have it all. As we think of this paradox perhaps we can see how it plays out in our lives. Maybe we have much and we are grateful, perhaps we have nothing and we are in despair, maybe we are just doing alright, or we have all the riches of the world but no matter how much we wish we could, we just can't enjoy them or see the point in life. My first poem post Banners of Life attempts to capture the struggle of life against all of these strange curve balls. No matter what our social status, or circumstances, at some point we are almost all faced with a moment where it all just seems so heavy. Please feel free to comment and share what makes you stumble, and what keeps you going. Voila!

Banners of Life

Banners of Life

By Jeffrey Kwesiga

26/02/2012

Your tattered flag waves in the wind, slow but full of pride.

Every hole in your banner is proof of life,

Every scratch and dent on the staff,

A testament to your survival.

Your banner lifts you above the field.

It is your soul raw and bare for all to see.

On your knees you hang from this heavy sign of the soul,

Too proud to let it fall to the ground,

Too stubborn to let it stay rooted.

When it feels like you have nothing left,

You hold it like your last breath,

Grasping with all you have and laboring every moment.

You push on pulling your battered body up hand by hand.

Climbing higher you feel the full weight of your life against your soul.

With knees bent at the crook you barley stand.

You take that first tired step and move.