Ravenous rumbunctious rage
Hunger is a lion pacing its cage
Kitchen Cupboard Trick or Treat
Give me something, anything to eat.
Fresh coffee, omlette, coco pops.
Cheesed cauliflower and pork chops.
Sugared plums, hot custard, chocolate mousse.
Chocolate anything-you-choose.
Thick, tender steak cooked just right,
Cafe latte frothy and light.
Pasta Alfredo with mushroom sauce,
Mocha cheesecake for the final course
Ravenous rumbunctious rage
Hunger is a lion pacing its cage
Kitchen Cupboard Trick or Treat
Give me something, anything to eat.
Cow ribs, crabsticks, peppermint tea.
Samp and beans, juiced celery.
Shark fin, hagus, sheep eyeballs
Birds nest soup, appetite calls!
Ravenous rumbunctious rage
Ravenous rumbunctious rage
Ice cream with tomato sauce
Creamed cabbage coconut crunch
Chicken feet yoghurt with marshmellow rice
Sardined brownies, sausage with icing
Broccolli burgers,
Delicious
Delirious
Something, anything to eat.
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
Monday, 2 July 2012
Home Sweet Home
Shut out of our own home. For the last half hour, all I had been obsessing about was a cup of bitter, hot cocoa to warm me against the Pretoria cold. And then bam. This automatic gate won't open. I can almost hear the low triumphant laughs of technology, 'they created us but now they are ruled by us. Muhahaha.'
My brother comes out of the house with the gate remote. He pushes and pushes that button. Sugababe would have been proud. But to no avail. He holds the remote right up to the gate box. The gate box ignores him like a pretty girl. My dad asks to try. My brother and I exchange looks of relief, knowing that once my dad pushes that button with his magic fingers, a miracle will occur. Lol, jk we're teenagers.
Richard runs inside to get the security gate key.
"Why don't you climb over?"
"I don't want to leave you." Half-true. My dad and I are in this together, stranded. But that hot cocoa isn't going to make it's way out here.
After a while, we started wondering where my brother was. Hunger and vacancy consume us.Time is distorted and mirages plague our mind. He has forgotten us and locked himself into his gaming world, pushing out all reality of his abandoned family. He was making himself a four course lunch. His repression skills are so developed that he has no memory of father or sister. He has always lived alone.
I volunteer myself to reach into the depths of the dark forest that is his mind and shake him back to real life.
Then I had to climb over the gate.
Our gate is one of those where you can tell the designer had made thousands of boring gates and began pining for his young days where his career dream was to be the Picasso of the millennium. In this state of mind he wistfully and nostalgically embelished the gate. This once humble security item is elevated to a status of semi-supreme craftsmanship.
Climbing it will not be simple.
My dad decided this should be a team effort. As I attempt to conquer this eighth world wonder, my dad suggests a foothold. I put my foot there and find myself in a position to envy the most acclaimed Twister champion. I try something else, only to be advised again by my dad. It's pretty clear we have different ideas about climbing this gate. I come back to the ground to take off my boots. "I'm sure it will be easier with your shoes on."
Allow for a description of afore mentioned boots. They are fake uggs, mistakingly bought a size or two too big, with a thick foam sole. If anyone should wish to spend a day in my shoes, they should simply attach buckets to their feet. I choose to decline my dad's advice.
Slowly, oh so cautiously, I eventually make it over. I say a weepy goodbye to my dad through the bars, and as I make it towards my regained home, I find a reborn appreciation and fondness for these walls. I tag out my brother and soon we are all triumphant champions, together to the end, home at last.
My brother comes out of the house with the gate remote. He pushes and pushes that button. Sugababe would have been proud. But to no avail. He holds the remote right up to the gate box. The gate box ignores him like a pretty girl. My dad asks to try. My brother and I exchange looks of relief, knowing that once my dad pushes that button with his magic fingers, a miracle will occur. Lol, jk we're teenagers.
Richard runs inside to get the security gate key.
"Why don't you climb over?"
"I don't want to leave you." Half-true. My dad and I are in this together, stranded. But that hot cocoa isn't going to make it's way out here.
After a while, we started wondering where my brother was. Hunger and vacancy consume us.Time is distorted and mirages plague our mind. He has forgotten us and locked himself into his gaming world, pushing out all reality of his abandoned family. He was making himself a four course lunch. His repression skills are so developed that he has no memory of father or sister. He has always lived alone.
I volunteer myself to reach into the depths of the dark forest that is his mind and shake him back to real life.
Then I had to climb over the gate.
Our gate is one of those where you can tell the designer had made thousands of boring gates and began pining for his young days where his career dream was to be the Picasso of the millennium. In this state of mind he wistfully and nostalgically embelished the gate. This once humble security item is elevated to a status of semi-supreme craftsmanship.
Climbing it will not be simple.
My dad decided this should be a team effort. As I attempt to conquer this eighth world wonder, my dad suggests a foothold. I put my foot there and find myself in a position to envy the most acclaimed Twister champion. I try something else, only to be advised again by my dad. It's pretty clear we have different ideas about climbing this gate. I come back to the ground to take off my boots. "I'm sure it will be easier with your shoes on."
Allow for a description of afore mentioned boots. They are fake uggs, mistakingly bought a size or two too big, with a thick foam sole. If anyone should wish to spend a day in my shoes, they should simply attach buckets to their feet. I choose to decline my dad's advice.
Slowly, oh so cautiously, I eventually make it over. I say a weepy goodbye to my dad through the bars, and as I make it towards my regained home, I find a reborn appreciation and fondness for these walls. I tag out my brother and soon we are all triumphant champions, together to the end, home at last.
Sunday, 1 July 2012
Electric Blue Words
There is something about the bible. I read it every day but I don't read it like I brush my teeth. (I don't want to exactly but it's kind of necessary so I'll spare 2 minutes.) If I had to compare it to some other daily task it would maybe be to eating Future Life. (A breakfast cereal that has made into one of my top 10 reasons I love life. Maybe even top 5. It's that delicious and nutritious. I ain't even mad.)
Ok so the bible isn't really like breakfast cereal.
It's God's tool in my life. "A living sword." I get this picture in my head of a long sword that's white hot and glowing an electric blue, the kind of blue you get in a really hot fire. That's God's words.
He says whatever He needs to say to me. Some days He corrects the way I think, some days my actions and habits I need to change, some days He just uses it to show me what beauty is, what love is. God uses the bible in my life as a microphone, a dishcloth, a light switch. He uses it to give me a hug. Man, the way I live for those hugs.
It's truth. Truth is pretty hard to come by. Sometimes even with friends and family, I get confused as to what is truth, what is implied, where should I colour in the gaps, where should I take people at their words. But the bible is pretty solid. It's straightforward. There's nothing in it that can be proven a lie. It is not in any way tainted. And that really clears my head. God shows Himself to be real, and He also shows what He expects from me.
It's tough. In a life of frivolous conversation and shallow facebook updates, the bible is so very refreshing. It challenges me in so many ways. It whispers that God is real, heaven is real. Life is real so don't mess around. Don't live half-heartedly. Run to win. Run with everything you're worth. Don't build your life on things that are unimportant. Build your life on something that's going to last. But more than that: reading it is like trying to reach the horizon. The more you learn, the more there is to learn. I love the way the Jews describe the Word: it's a seventy sided jewel, hold it up to the light, the light shines through it in the most amazing way, but turn it just a little and you see the light refract through it in a different way, and again and again. It's beauty is so limitless. I just want to go as deep as I can.
The bible gives me hope like nothing else. It's a tool, it's the truth and it's tough. Nothing in the world is as satisfying.
Ok so the bible isn't really like breakfast cereal.
It's God's tool in my life. "A living sword." I get this picture in my head of a long sword that's white hot and glowing an electric blue, the kind of blue you get in a really hot fire. That's God's words.
He says whatever He needs to say to me. Some days He corrects the way I think, some days my actions and habits I need to change, some days He just uses it to show me what beauty is, what love is. God uses the bible in my life as a microphone, a dishcloth, a light switch. He uses it to give me a hug. Man, the way I live for those hugs.
It's truth. Truth is pretty hard to come by. Sometimes even with friends and family, I get confused as to what is truth, what is implied, where should I colour in the gaps, where should I take people at their words. But the bible is pretty solid. It's straightforward. There's nothing in it that can be proven a lie. It is not in any way tainted. And that really clears my head. God shows Himself to be real, and He also shows what He expects from me.
It's tough. In a life of frivolous conversation and shallow facebook updates, the bible is so very refreshing. It challenges me in so many ways. It whispers that God is real, heaven is real. Life is real so don't mess around. Don't live half-heartedly. Run to win. Run with everything you're worth. Don't build your life on things that are unimportant. Build your life on something that's going to last. But more than that: reading it is like trying to reach the horizon. The more you learn, the more there is to learn. I love the way the Jews describe the Word: it's a seventy sided jewel, hold it up to the light, the light shines through it in the most amazing way, but turn it just a little and you see the light refract through it in a different way, and again and again. It's beauty is so limitless. I just want to go as deep as I can.
The bible gives me hope like nothing else. It's a tool, it's the truth and it's tough. Nothing in the world is as satisfying.
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