Sunday 13 July 2014

Bottle of memories


You may find this message
Years from now
Tossed wave to wave
From ocean trough to crested waves
Borne across ancestral paths
Directions baked into bones
From age to age
You may find my greetings in old script hard to decipher
My words parched by thirst
And confused by isolation
I was not lost, I can assure you
Not marooned on a remote isle
Overflowing with coconuts and curious monkeys
But I could not see beyond the walls
Of my crypt bejeweled in glass and concrete
My little prison of gold and anxiety
Of what has become of luxury
I could see the tops of my sky scrapers
Their bared teeth glistening in the sun
Their souls hanging on copper threads from pole to pole
I was not hungry either
Because chicken hatched in a day
And fattened in a day
Tomatoes grew right through the metal covers of metal stew pots
Smart foods looked through the window wishing they will be dinner
Dinner for the homeless man across the street
Breakfast for the little boy left beside the dry well in the African Sahel
I did not have enemies
Nor could I remember friends that remained friends
With grenades hidden in dinner bowls
It was hard to tell who gave the boy the machine gun
And the extra magazine to fill the school yard with corpses
You will find this message years later
You may find it hard to comprehend
The battle over who marries the man
A woman, a monkey or a mouse
Why the hand wringing over the family
Children are cooked in Petri dishes and adults formed on TV and video games
You will wonder why the creator we worship
Commands us to love and hate, to kill and save , to die in order to live
To venerate the meek and saintly
To kill them off for progress
You will wonder why I left you this message
Your world is not my world
Battles are fought from afar
And words have one letter each
The dreams we built have become your nightmares
The doves we raised have grown talons
Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.