raindrops,
like celestial nectar,
drench my winter coat.
i stagger,
wounded,
half-blind,
though no longer filled with dread,
for i walk on,
unsure,
oh yes, most certainly so,
yet filled with murmuring promises,
as i welcome the myriad paths that lie ahead …
A New Dawn …
shackled,
the noose tightening,
stealing promises,
of tomorrows yet to be born,
yet still,
hope takes root,
offering solace,
a glimpse,
of a less harsh tomorrow,
as the moon resigns itself,
to the embrace of the coming dawn …
Eternally Optimistic …
morning breaks in,
shattering the mute night,
infusing the silence,
with the joyous mishmash of all that that little thing called hope brings,
that no matter how bleak the weeks may seem,
and how desolate the minutes may feel,
every night of emptiness must end,
as with each new dawn,
the sun does its renewing warmth,
to us all, extend …
sweeping the remnants of bygone yesterdays,
under the carpet,
festering,
stewing,
mutating,
time scampers,
whispering lullabies,
teasing slumber,
surrendering to the night,
embracing the cocoon of the dark,
shedding the detritus of the now,
soothing and gentle as the softly departing light …
The Naked Face of Racism …
I met some folks the other day,
and they spewed bile and hate,
to put it bluntly,
they had nothing but shit to say,
talkin’ about ‘Kaffirs’* with self-righteous hate,
vomiting forth on the imminent doom of the South African state,
Oh but I did try some old fashioned reason,
only to be barked down,
it must have been my socks, cos’ my socks you see,
they don’t fit in with the haute-couture of this springs’ season,
and so these pleasant, well-fed, well-clothed business folk kept on blabbering,
about how stupid and corrupt all ‘blacks’ are,
and all this and more said in tones sickly-sweet,
as they guzzled their Blue Label whisky neat,
still I tried to reason,
though in truth I do confess,
I was tempted to terminate the fascist shindig,
and say,
fuck you, you racist pig,
but alas I tried and tried in vain,
but I was left cold, empty, shaking with anger, and filled with a deep pain,
that after all we have been through as a still-healing nation,
we barely haven’t even left the train station,
and I thought of my heroes,
Walter Sisulu,
Oliver Tambo,
Nelson Mandela,
Bram Fischer,
Govan Mbeki,
Ahmed Kathrada,
Chris Hani,
Moses Kotane,
Chief Albert Luthuli,
Lillian Ngoyi,
Helen Joseph,
J.B Marks,
a few amongst so many, many more,
giants of our collective struggle for equality and freedom and justice for all,
just like Dr. King who dreamed a dream while standing proud, dignified, and tall.
And so I left at long last,
stunned, broken, and aghast,
at the raw face of naked racism that I came to see,
in truth I was shaken to my very core,
but,
but,
but let the racist fascists know this,
and they better know this well,
that we shall always be many, many more,
and we shall consign them to the trashcan of history where they belong,
because their hate and their racism,
can never, ever,
and will never, ever,
silence our unfinished song,
a song nourished by the blood of those who died for the internationalist ideal,
and that,
that is something even those hate-filled businessmen can never, ever steal!
*’Kaffir’ – a racially derogatory term used to refer to black Africans in Apartheid South Africa
“As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.” – Nelson Mandela
“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” – Nelson Mandela
Scribbled Verse 