Archive for January, 2017


​The Damned are Banned.



when an entire people, adherents of the religion of Islam, already pummelled and damned by the savagery of war in the countries they call home, are banned from entering a country that hails its freedoms and liberty as being sacrosanct, a country of immigrants itself, a country that was built on the genocide of the indigenous peoples that inhabited that land, and on the backs of countless human beings barbarically abused as slaves from the continent of Africa, one cannot but think back to the early days of the barbarism of Hitler’s nazism and its singling out of the entire Jewish people for extermination.


but then again, just a few days ago, we heard from the powers that be that they thought the Holocaust was a “sad” thing.


Goebbels would have been proud. 


the parallels are chilling.


and this is not 1930s Germany.


this is the world we live in today.


and its 2017.

Not I* – http://wp.me/p7GMeY-zj

​they said she was opinionated, they castigated her for not following the norm, they dismissed her for being loud-mouthed, and spoke disparagingly of her for flouting cultural, religious, and sectarian narrow-minded claptrap, they damned her for unclipping her wings and soaring free into the open skies.


she is you. 


and may you always be you.

you

​when gloom sweeps down, sinking its talons into my skin, it has always been you who yanks me out of the fog, out of the doom, out of the bog.


it has always been you,

ever gentle,

ever loving,


ever true

​hope resounds.



hope resounds, across the rolling savanna, easing its way through the deltas, mixed in the silt of the rivers, embroidered in the rain clouds, murmuring in the gentle backwaters, sketched across the spice infused skies.


hope resounds, in the eyes of the children, the heartbeat of the people, the thud-thudding of a continent, through thriving cities, in quiet villages, infused in the soil of the yawning plains, embroidered into the fabric that binds us all.


hope resounds, in the blessings of the ancestors, embedded in the hustle and bustle of the towns, drawing deep breaths within the millions, exhaling the fatigue of countless souls, crackling in the fiery rainstorms, called to earth in the forks of lightning.


hope resounds, in the birdsong of the morning, the drumbeat echoing in between rain forests, the laughter of children at play, the groans of ripe fruit on trees, the sighs of cities asleep in the night, the flapping of birds in dusky flight.


hope resounds, in the hopeful promise of peace, in the joyous celebration of life, in the harmony of the crickets in the grasslands, soaring above the stubborn deserts, in the gurgling of water in the oasis, in sleepy willows, in the happiness carved into strangers face.


hope resounds, as it always has, as it still does, and as it always will. 



hope resounds.

the palette of colour 

​the palette of colour.



earthy desire awash with rustic tinged passion, hues of emotions sketched, aflame with strokes of roses,


your lips, mine, tracing feelings deeply etched, autumn browns, winter charcoal,


infusing each breath hungrily, teasing out love from the palette of colour, a desire imbibed not by bright reds,


but by the wild swirls of abandoned flower beds.



​on the precipice.



less than a hundred years ago, the most technologically advanced nation on earth fought two world wars.


in the second of which, a concerted, highly mechanised, and utterly ruthless campaign was orchestrated to kill every man, woman, and child of a specific religious group – 6 million souls perished in that barbaric attempt.


there were tens of millions of dead throughout the world at the end of that world war. 


nuclear weapons were used for the first time to horrendous effect on the people of hiroshima and nagasaki – effects of which are being felt still.


all of this happened during a time of “progress” in the fields of science, technology, medicine, amongst other human endeavours that were hailed as great leaps forward for the human race. 


the ideas of individuality were supressed by the rabid jingoism of nationalism and appeals to baser human emotions. 


robust intellectual discourse was overshadowed by the instilling of fear of the “other”. 


human beings were seen as fodder for the wars that were fought – both cold and military wars. 


this idea of “us” and “them” on a grand scale persisted until less than thirty years ago, and it’s talons are sunk deep within the mindsets of many today.


there is the simplistic nature of political discourse that once again pits “us” versus “them”. 


there is the maniacal jingoism that appeals to the very worst of human emotions. 


the most powerful technology is being usurped by the powerful to keep the weak in “check”.


today, once again, appears to be the age of the demagogue.


the politics of hate and fear is being promulgated by the very powerful against the not-so powerful.


entire races of people are being made scapegoats, entire religions are being vilified, entire ways of life, and of loving are being branded as being “sinful”.


wars of aggression are being waged, human beings once again cannon fodder for the powerful.


people are living under the jackboot of oppression and occupation.


the obscenity of the accruing of personal wealth trumps the needs of the many. 


following the two world wars that were fought less than a hundred years ago, the world came together and said “never again”.


the time is now for those two words to take on a new meaning. 



never again!

loser 

​loser.



i have lost, in almost everything that i have done or do.


i was terrible at school, worse at university, and barely scraping by in life too.


which is why i will always be thankful to you.


thank you for not letting me lose you.

walking

walking.

we walked, silently.

the lapping of the waves the only sound.

we walked in silence.

at long last.

after a lifetime of words.


we embraced the stillness of having nothing to say.

reflections 

​reflections.



the passing of the years roll on, decades distilled into momentary flashes, fleeting memories of days gone by, of feelings run dry.


reflecting, some wounds healed, a few raw, gnashing into the now, lost in the whys and the how.


standing here at the crossroads, divergent paths leading to the unknown, having walked down these roads long ago, all that remains – the endless charade, the hollow passing show.

let’s 

​I told her that I love her.

she silently smiled, saying nothing at all.


I promised her heaven and earth.

she did not respond.


I said “let’s walk this earth together for a while, knowing not where the paths lead”.


she smiled.


“let’s”

​the thorn and the rose.



the rose blooms, on tender stems with jagged thorns.


unbeknownst to the flaming rose, the thorns offer a sheath of safety.


protecting the rose, uncaring of their visage, the thorns are silent sentinels.


if only the thorns of my life, were merely a cocoon of safety, shielding me from the storms of life.


if only I were enveloped by thorns, weather-beaten, yet buffered from strife.

our embrace

​our embrace …



when we kissed, beneath the rainy Johannesburg skies, i was swept into the cauldron of aching desire.


when our bodies writhed, a dazzling confluence of two souls fused as one, i was swept away by the murmurs you whispered into my ear.


when your heart beat against my chest, the sweat slick and salty on our two forms, i was swept away by the tides of passionate need.


you swept me away on that night, merged with thunder and lightning and the torrential African rain

and

since those days of togetherness, i have been swept away by you,


time and time and time again …

our journey 

​cinnamon kisses,

sprinkled on honeydew lips,


quenched the thirst,

of parched desire.


take my hand“, she said, “our journey has many more miles ahead


we the people.



as the forces of reaction grow louder, as the fascism of right-wing politics seem to be burgeoning, as the misogyny and racism and attacks on the rights of those who love differently echoes through the corridors of power, as all of this and so much more fills the air we breathe with a noxious stench, may we the people resist! may we the people erect the barricades, may we the people look back to all those brave and courageous souls who stood upright and fought the battles of yesterday – and not give in to despondency, may we the people resist and in resisting may we send a clear and resounding message to the forces that choose to divide, not unite, engender narrow nationalism not fraternal internationalism, may our message to them be clear, concise and loud – no pasaran! you shall not pass, for though you may wield the whip of power, we the people shall not give in to your tunnel vision of the politics of hate and divisiveness, for We The People always have been, and shall remain many, many more. Take heed of history for you stand rickety on the losing side and lose you shall, despite your gains here and there, lose you shall and lose you will, for We The People have been and always shall be many, many more. many more than the 1%, many more than the vultures of capital and greed, many more than you are, and ever shall be. 


We The People are many, many more.


Amandla!

Venceremos!

Aluta Continua!

Vincent and Ludwig 




Vincent stared at the early evening sky.


Ludwig looked at his friend.



why do we feel so alone, dear Ludwig, just look at this canvas, it bathes us, blankets us, and is filled with flashes of lightsaid Vincent.

flashes of light, soaring like an orchestral crescendo, a blanket shared with a friend, yes, and yet, my dear Vincent, i feel desolate”, whispered Ludwig.




do you see the empty space between the flashes of light, my friend, that space is what your music colours“, Vincent said.




Ludwig looked up, smiling, yes, the space your colours infuse with hope, with every stroke of your brush, hope for those caught in all the empty spaces“.

hope for us all, in each of our very own, empty spaces, yes“, Vincent smiled at his friend.




empty spaces, but infused with colours, music, and hope“, whispered Ludwig, his smile broadening.

hope“.


hope

hope endures.

​hope endures … … …



in the claws of grinding dismay, hope endures.


in the talons of savage reality, hope endures.


wedged deep the thorns may be, yet hope endures.


bruised bloody the soul may feel, yet hope endures.


beyond these words, hope endures.


past this paltry rhyme, hope endures.


soaring into the boundless sky, hope endures.


running free in fields of flowers, hope endures. 


hope endures, as life batters the day,

hope endures, as today shatters the night,



hope endures, as it must, for the paths yet to be tread,

hope endures, as it must, for the perilous journey ahead … … …


a wounded heart

​a wounded heart.



picking up this wounded heart, off the emotion splattered floor, where dreams lie scattered, of all that once mattered, now just making my way to the door, searching for an exit, over the detritus casually gnawing at the core,


so don’t talk to me of love,


I just can’t take any of it,

anymore …

​inequality.




the fire rages, inequality scars the skies,

smoke billows in the air.


yet we hold the line, putting up the barricades,


for there are many, many more of us who care … 

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