Posted in Canada, Denmark, Poetry, Prose

How Hot Was It?

Everyone is complaining
complaining about hot
what is hot?
what is not?

Hot means ice cream
Hot means topless beaches (Denmark, you know)
Hot might mean Mini-skirts?

If there are no mini-skirts
I’ll have to let my imagination
do the walking
do the talking

I can imagine quite a bit
I can imagine what others promise
but don’t deliver

I was promised mini-skirts
I got ice cream
I got soda pop
I got cool breeze

My imagination got
what I did not,

Wish
I had been that
lucky….

Posted in Poetry, Prose

The Wind

The wind blew
strong today
through the empty halls
of my imagination,
not one scrap
not one iota
presented itself
leaving me lost and alone
with nothing but these words
to comfort myself with….

Posted in Canada, Life, Poetry, Prose

Heading to Bed

Not everyone can keep
track of my imagination
even though,
I’ve attempted
to put it down
on this piece
of virtual paper,
I wish, anyone,
who would like to run
the Fantasy Race with me,
would put on their
runners
and take a trip
on my imagination
There is room for more
than one,
and if you are
from Canada,
you might
even get to sit up front
with me,
and honk
my
horn…

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Relationships

Lady in the Bathtub

Sneaking a peek
before coping a feel
or that’s what my
imagination told me
to do,
It didn’t, however,
tell me to duck
when I hit my head
while crawling along the floor
to you,
The water splashed
and you, you hung
your sexy foot over the side
tempting and stretching
my sinews to their limits,
I took, what I came for
the moment presented itself
seeing you
in all of your beauty
nude, as if from the hands of God
your silky form
obscured
by the steaming waters
and me awakening
from yet another
frustrating meeting
with you…

Posted in Humor, Life, Travel

Friends, Not Forgotten

I’ve been spending some time, musing over the power of Facebook and what it means in our lives.

I feel that Facebook is, to some degree, rather aggressive in its tactics to involve itself in our lives. It seems as if it asks me, with regular intervals to reveal even more of my personal life, even though I am hesitant about doing just that.

It has though brought me back to my past, and the people and things that I did when I was a young man growing up in Botswana. Having lived in Europe this many years, I have tended to forget my years studying at the University in Botswana, and my best friend from that time in my life.

Facebook might be many things, but it is not infallible. It seems that my best friend from that time in my life, is not able to be found using Facebook’s many techniques for bringing people together. I could of course assume the worst, but it might just be as simple as my friend is not the Facebook type, and has decided not to follow along with the rest of the world.

A number of my current colleagues at work have requested me as a friend, but I adhere to a strict policy of separating my personal life, from my private life. I have also refrained from adding my workplace to my Facebook profile, but after many tries, being reminded to do so, I have now jumped on the Bandwagon, and have revealed my past to my friends and family.

My current job is beyond my wildest imagination, which shows how far you can come in life, if you just put your dreams on-line, and expand your thoughts to encompass the wildest possibilities. My past contacts with Botswana have also crept into some of my blogs and rest assured that you will be hearing more of Gaberone, in my coming posts.

I hope that you too will remember the people in your past, and hope that they will become some of your most cherished friends as well on Facebook. I still hold onto the hope that my good friend, will come forth someday, and we can share some of the good times, we had with each other during the 20 most happy years of my life, while studying at the University!

I only hope that he managed to graduate, which would warm the cockles of my heart, knowing that one of us has a diploma from Limkokwing University hanging on their wall.

My family and friends will indeed be surprised, when my past life is finally revealed, showing them that dreams can come true, if they only allow their imagination run away with them, as I have!

Remember to let your thoughts take you to the farthest reaches on this planet, showing that there are no limits to where we go, or what we can do, if we really want them badly enough!

Friends search

Regardless of the outcome, I still will be keeping a special place in my heart for my old friend, Mbongo Ponopongo, where ever he might be at this point in time.

I miss you greatly, old friend……

 

Posted in Relationships

Seek to Hide, A Summer’s Quest

It hadn’t succeeded, my quest as yet. I sought out my love, my life, from where she had hidden herself, seemingly not wanting to be found…

I chose my most faithful hound to aid me in my search, but he just scratched behind his ear, and sniffed the ground, not wanting to get involved all the same. Man’s Best Friend, they call you, which made him light up almost as much as the sound of dog food hitting the metal bowl, “Set me Free!” “Set me Free!” he seemed to say to his growling stomach. “Get your own girl, he said to me, which I was trying to do, you know?

I thought if trying the limits of my imagination to see if she was hiding in there, but if she stood beside me right now, she’d say, “so far would I not travel, and besides you don’t have the imagination to stomach a journey like that!”

I begged to disagree. I did have an imagination, which called out to me time and again. “All aboard for the Fantasy Express!” Tickets please….Tickets….

I didn’t seem to have the ready cash for the journey, having searched the many pockets of my waistcoat. You’d think that someone had forgotten a Bob or two, for just such an occasion as this one, but No, the loose change had fallen behind the seat, or had rolled down the nearby Manhole. I felt that she might be correct in judging the limits of my imagination, by not being able to catch a simple train of thought, without having a penny to my name.

She seemed to whisper to me, in rather loudish tones, motioning me over toward the train, which had released its steam in anticipation of the imminent journey.

“Want to go for a ride with me?”, she asked while tugging at my waistcoat, pulling at the chain of my pocket watch, and biting my ear in a lesser way that strangers would greet each other. I felt obliged to tell her that I was spoken for, and that my parents had arranged our marriage, way back when we only were children, being completely unaware of each other!

She danced around me with veils and such, which surrounded me with scents of incense and patchouli, banging her tambourine, and enticing me to bang it together with her. “Where are you going, where have you been, and where can I find you?”, I chanced to ask her, while she began to resemble rising smoke, blowing herself away. “Follow the trains”, she said.” Follow the trains….”

It wasn’t  hard following the trains, just not being on them. The tracks led into the inky darkness, with just a distant clikity klak, clikity, klak to be heard, heading away from me. I trudged through the tunnels in hope of seeing her again, but was running out of both inspiration and imagination, which went hand in hand, entwined in coils around my imagination as it were. I sat down to rest and contemplate my thoughts of her, wondering why she chose this Summer to be away from me, instead sharing the things that we both loved, especially each other!

I looked at the rails, and imagined there were bread crumbs showing me the way to her. Alas it seems that the crumbs had been eaten by the train birds, who mimicked and mocked my actions, deep underneath the noisy street above. “Come over here,” they called in a voice not like, nor unlike hers, wanting my imagination to take a turn for the worse, or follow a bend in the road, leading me astray, and yet farther away from her loving arms. I feared that my imagination was not strong enough without her, and I would soon fall by the wayside! Drunk and down on my luck, I would resign myself to panhandling and begging on the streets, hoping to take one day at a time, no longer thinking nor longing for her, but hoping nonetheless to be able to drown my sorrows in a bottle of hooch, wanting only to fall into the inky depths, and drown in the quagmire at the bottom of the glass.

“Over here”, she seemed to call out to me, breaking my thoughts into smaller chunks, scattering them where they could not be assembled again, making my future self alive once again.

I wanted to ask her, why she chose this moment to test my conviction? Why did she want me to leave the comfort of our sunny Summer Room, with the lizards on the walls, imitating wallpaper, but would leave the walls to play while we were away. I used to fear the Alligators under the bed she admitted to me, while we sat in the living room, waiting for the night to fall with a crash! “They are scaly, you know, and tend to bite things off, and not return them again”. I felt that the Alligators had taken over my life, and I needed to get away.

I reached out for her, but met only the resistance of the wall. Placing my face alongside the lizards, I called out to her. “Can you hear me?” Do you trust me?”

I waited patiently for an answer as she obviously was hesitant about leaving her place of refuge. I set the usual Alligator traps and collected the loose lizard or two, and placed them as carefully as possible in their respective places on the walls.

“Come back to me” I said a bit louder this time, hoping that she hadn’t moved to another room, where the pigeons were cooing or the parrots were mocking each other..

I knew that this was the best bet for getting her back, as the bedroom was her favorite room in the house. Instinctively I knew that if I enticed her out, in a way that told her, what I really felt about her, then I wouldn’t have to remain standing her until the cows came home, or Mrs O’Leary’s cow had set the fire that burned down Chicago.

“Come out. Come out”. I spoke in terms that were lacking in whisper qualities, and which would tell her that I wasn’t afraid to profess my love for her.

“Come out and look at me”, which was another of her most favorite things, that is “Looking me in the Eyes”. “Your eyes are the windows to your soul”, she’d often say, but I felt that she had read that on the back of a box of Cereal, or perhaps her Church running shoes. Run for Jesus! Was the usual saying printed on her T-shirt, even though I knew for a fact that she only joined that group, because they served breakfast rolls with real butter on Sundays! She said that it was important to have a deity hanging around, because you never knew, when you needed a bit of Salvation to perk up your day. I argued about her views on religion, but she only replied by blowing soap bubbles out the window, waiting for the hummingbirds to pop them with their beaks.

“Come back to me, I won’t stop waiting and wanting you. I promise. I promise with all my heart, and soul”. I was in need of a bit of Salvation, and could see that her deity was indeed a handy thing to have around. I guess, we shared more than just our bed, and our thoughts of a warm Summer Day, which I unfortunately was resigned to enjoy alone, not being able to find her.

“Lizards are not Alligators”, said a voice behind me. Not turning around, but answering all the same, I said, “No. No they are not! “Which made me think of someone holding their hands over my eyes, and daring me to guess who it was.

“Should it be Go Fish or is there something else”, I needed to say,” before you admit to being you?” I said to the unknown person, who was excellent in her ability to resemble our wallpaper in a chameleon sort of way. “You guessed it”, she said. “You guessed, who I was, said while dropping her hands, and turning me around to face her once again.”

“I couldn’t imagine a better place to be than here with you!” Said while looking into her eyes, sparkling like Club Soda on a Summer Afternoon.

“I know that to be true”, she said twirling her hair in that way that she did so well.” Your imagination is lacking a bit, but that is why we complement each other so well!”

“Ye”s, I said as we collapsed upon our bed, like a house of cards with a sudden breeze blowing through the window.

“When you are right, then……..”

 

Posted in The Danish Alps

I am in a Jeep traveling to the Danish Alps

My Jutland Jeep is made of sturdy stuff. I wouldn’t attempt to drive in the Danish Alps without it.

I am in a Jeep traveling up a mountain road. Many people have warned me not to attempt to visit the Alps, as they only exist in one person’s imagination. I am not dissuaded by this, and continue up the increasingly precarious embankment.

I am in a Jeep surrounded by a deep mountain forest. The light has troubles penetrating the Danish Pines, making it necessary to use the front spotlight on the Jeep in order to stay safely on the road.

I must be wary for rockslides and falling boulders, due to the strong tectonic movements in the Alps. If I were a religious person, I would be praying to the local deities, or placing offers of dried fruits and nuts along the side of the road, honoring the Grubby Gerbil and his followers.

I am in a Jeep at road’s end. At this point in time, I must abandon all hope and hike to the Spires and Pinnacles of the Lofty Peaks, if the true Alps are to be enjoyed.

I am at the end of one person’s imagination, as the tales of the Alps are closed until new ideas come along.

I am at the end of this blog, but am not at the end of the stories to come.

I am a true believer in the Danish Alps…….