Rhyme And Reason, vol 1 | Page 4

around the coastal settlement , all manner of architecture, decorations, signage and paraphernalia suggest an ode to the sea and a boatman's lot.
The utilitarian magnetism of a rugged painted scene experienced live. Water's surface beside ravaged outskirts of the docks. Rusty submerged pillars and barnacles, so common a sight, they go unnoticed.
Foam formations and breaking foam. Reflections of the surface on a good sunny day like fluid sequins , they gleam. Vessels off to the wide open and vessels approaching. The mutable tide and current. Bobbing buoys and crafts.
An assemblage of scattered generators, expelled fumes, sputtering engines with cadence of speech merge to form a union of din. Picture perfect for a tourist. It's an average day in the lives of those whose fortunes depend on the day's catch and nature's dictates.
Tobacco smoke, grunts, gruff ramblings, murmurs, occasional raised volume, wellingtons, raincoats, overcoats and windbreakers. Footsteps upon tarred passages. Shadows of beings cast on cobblestone walkways. The stooped, hunched, sprightly and nimble.
It's a rare sight for a pristine boat to be moored at the docks or a seafarer in uncreased gear, whose presence is devoid of telltale salty scent. Eyes accustomed to the regular scene spies a newcomer with ease. 8>)
WANDERER'S NOTATION
A trace of superstition still hangs upon them. The past is as tangible as actuality. They live it, they breathe within dominions of their time and those once trod by their forefathers. The legacy is both strong and benevolent. Hence , so is the affinity between generations long parted and the living present.?The departed have never truly departed from the consciousness of those still living, though not every name is known but their presence is persistent. The people here, they're a mite superstitious. Youthful formative years were liberally imbued with rhymes and odes of folklore where there is no sharp divide of legend from history. The structured education of logic, truth and reasoning heap upon indentations first forged by lore, diligently learned during childhood.?A clear innocence flavour their pursuits. A sense of unobtrusive dignity pervade pursuits spanning from exalted undertakings to prosaic chores. If there is a place where a wanderer would gaze back with longing in heart and a vow to return, it would be this.
NO. 11?(A PIECE ABOUT ILLEGAL WEEKEND RACING)
a trail of cold wetness?a passing rain's legacy?a weekend's night?at the square's hub
pungence of pumping exhaust?hazy light beams streak?their path through the murky blur
the public mingle at street fringes?as streaks of lights?mark their motorised presence
has anyone found their night's beacon ??or is it only tonight's attraction?destined to be next morning's faded memory ?
screeches and skids?upon asphalt surface?burning rubber doused by moist surface
thrills in a rush?bets on the line for momentary glory?without flawless display?a reckless fool he becomes
how we've lived and where we're heading vanishes?when adrenaline shoots from a quick draw?all philosophical speculation abruptly cease
has anyone found their life's beacon ??or is it only tonight's attraction?destined to crack up and fade at first light ??8>)
MARKET PLACE
Peddlers and buyers parley. Each trying to inch to a compromise. When the deal is struck it is a mutual reward of patience for both. Both profit at an agreed cost. Hear peddlers hail and rave indiscreetly about their wares to passers-by with the purpose of making buyers out of browsers.
The market place is where material desire pursues realistic needs and perpetuates the jousting between persuasive wit and adamant refusal. Sweet recommendations slide up to those who pass by without a list and fill their minds with the lure of the next bargain.
Barrage upon barrage of humanity locked in bargaining, scurrying to and from , browsing without purpose, seeking with marked intentions. The market place is where friends with acquaintances , kinfolk with strangers tread the common way. Fresh links hooked. Old ties renewed. It is up to the individual to disclose or evade the throng of queries.
Smoothen frowns caused by fretting . Weary minds, take a hike along the market place. There's variety to be had within the stream of humanity there. It teases interest and flicks a spark on the fuse of humour. With senses and caution, join the jostling. Emerge none the poorer. So much the richer.?8>)
CORNER STREET
A mob masses at a side street. Something which they hear intrigue them so. It rises above their routine bustling hassle.?A booming invitation from a corner street salesman who hones his pitch to perfection. He nets commuters with his velvet lure of promise... for a fee. Wielding his selling lines like a coveted bauble while he tugs with his words. Those touched by his pitch tow along like an entourage of mice, latching on to the Pied Piper. The horde crane their necks for a ring side view , stretch limbs to advance nearer and strain sight for a close up. He stands high , above all heads , on a concrete pulpit