Always in November

 Always in November

November should be the child’s month,

as much as June or July.

In those fraternal twin summer months

the joy of summer vacation

has often worn off to be replaced

in late July by high temperature

boredom and monotony.

In November, Fall’s blood and gold child,

the mind and body are trained as one

in the classroom, Football field

and soccer pitch.

These equal involvements, sport and school,

are features near December; always in November.

There, too, is the seasonal sensation I’ll personally

claim to be the same as diving into the community

swimming pool or blue and ochre ocean:

squealingly bombarding a poor leaf pile.

In the company of brotherly buddies

we would leap in, dust hang-ons

from our smokey wool jackets,

reform the pile and leap in again.

We’ve reached our goal… now what?

In the past few years, I have watched with Obama’s election and re-election and the progression of South Africa and have pondered on how often nations or people groups will work for generations to achieve some sort of goal, whether it be equal rights, democracy or independence, and once that goal is reached and the euphoria dies down they’re left the fundamental question: ‘‘now what?’’ I’m sure you’ve seen an example of this somewhere today, such as in Egypt where attempts are still going on to unseat the government put in power. It can be spotted in the history of Africa after liberation as a prime example.

The point I’m trying to make is that we as humans have a tendency to accomplish something and then don’t know how to build on it afterwards. In sport countless teams or athletes will have that moment of long-awaited glory before flopping the very next season: Everton F.C.  in the 2005/2006 English soccer season, Manchester City F.C. currently, Jensen Button… the list goes on. In literature the success of J.D. Salinger’s novel, A Catcher in the Rye caused the author to become more reclusive and not publish another novel.

To have some kind of meaningful life we need to update our aims constantly and never be satisfied. Always be ready to answer the ‘‘Now what?’’ question in all situations before it causes us to digress and stunts our inner growth.

I  wrote this three-haiku poem in the light of Egypt when it overthrown Mubarak and had elections, South Africa’s present state and as a connection from Civil Rights era to now for African-Americans:

Struggled gains

Today in freedom

we meet each step conceited

delighting in our gains…

Yet, our young soles lie wounded

scarred by memory;

bleeding, from our history…

Today in freedom;

we walk masked from growing pains

brought with struggled gains…


When good prose won gold — poetry in the Olympics

With the London 2012 Olympics Games ending today, I thought this essay from the New York Times by Tony Perrottet would be appropriate:

The torrent of sports poetry inspired by the London Olympics continues unabated: NPR even hosted Poetry Games, in which listeners voted on a selection of verse with an athletic theme by celebrated poets from various countries. But few people today recall that poetry, just like the 100 meters, was an official Olympic competition from 1912 to 1948.