I believe alien life is quite common in the universe, although intelligent life is less so. Some say it has yet to appear on planet Earth.
Stephen Hawking
“The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
‘Who are you?’ said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, ‘I — I hardly know, sir, just at present — at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ said the Caterpillar sternly. ‘Explain yourself!’
‘I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir’ said Alice, ‘because I’m not myself, you see.’
‘I don’t see,’ said the Caterpillar.
‘I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly,’ Alice replied very politely, ‘for I can’t understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.”
From Alice in Wonderland
‘I could tell you my adventures–beginning from this morning,’ said Alice a little timidly: ‘but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’
(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 10)
LYRICS
O, os iusti meditabitur sapientiam et lingua eius loquetur indicium
Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem quoniqm (quoniam) cum probates fuerit accipiet coronam vitae (vite)
Kyrie, fons bonitas (bonitatis)
Kyrie, igne div’ne (ignis divine), eleison Lees voort “Lilium (from the series Elfen Lied)”
“It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story” Native American Proverb
If you know what the song is about, if you know the words you will understand… Think of the proverb and then think about what the song really is about…
This is a puzzle, do you understand?
within two sparks of thought collide
and spark, like the crackle of electric manifestation
primal eclectic thoughts from the breast of the mind
suckled there like the kittens from the teats of their mother
something growls, thoughts want to be expressed
words want to be uttered
but beasts cannot speak
beasts cannot be heard
the world is death and dumb and forgot to listen
the only words left are folded green paper
that pink monkeys hand to each other
enslaved….
oh pink monkeys, where are your ears
green paper has spoken only one word named ‘greed’
and you translate it to ‘necessity’
you can only listen to its siren call
yet end up one day naked, without nothing
in ashes or a wooden box
(c) 2015 Allen Simpson
Daar is ‘n bitterbessie in my hart vandag
van laasnag se lê en wag
in donker skemer het ek Verlange hoor lag
haar stem het uit gejou
en my hart het weemoedig aan dit gekou
bitter was die beker
maar soet was die smart
alleen sonder jou
net Verlange wat tart
my bitterbessie hart so vrank
in die doodloopstraat van verlange
kry net die geeste van gister uitkoms…
(c) 2012 allen simpson
Ek het ‘n bietjie Ingrid Jonker gelees en
‘Verlore Stad’ en “ontvlugting’ het hierdie gedig
geinspireer…. Die naam van my gedig is ‘n
‘homage’ aan ‘Bitterbessie Dagbreek’
Bitterbessie Hart kom uit my bundel ‘Skaduland’
Foto 1 geneem deur Hanneliese Bredell
Foto 2 geneem deur Theo Breedt
December you vampire, you murderer, you tiresome leech that steal our energy at the end of the year. We are all so tired, the year has taken all our energy, we just want to break free and get away. Leave our homes, get away from work so that we can relax.
December we are so afraid of you because this is the time when people cannot cope, suicides soar high, higher than any other month in certain areas of the word. December, some people are sad. The house at Christmas is getting emptier as family members become more alienated from each other.
Years ago the tables nearly broke because of all the food, now the prices are so high that there are people with just a bread for Christmas. December there are hobos on the street, there are poor people living in cars, there are old people without children that, because they are never visited, there even are children abandoned by parents….
It is madness… It is a mad world….
(c) 2015 Allen Simpson
Grey skies full of soot
clouds colored in despair
dust, dry to the root
cars rusted laying about
as if thrown by a restless child
burned out husks of yesterday
a single doll on her back
in woe looking at the sky
her human family had to die…
when the horsemen came
four bringing revelation
nation devouring nation
nothing more left alive
silently the doll looked at the sky
the day humanity wept and died…
(c) 2012 Allen Simpson
to humanity, who might never learn …
an old poem with a post-apocalyptic theme from my first poetry book ‘Tales From The Flow’
wolfshadowwhispers 
You said/ Julle sê