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May 17, 2018

Depression, and drug free,

Drugged, with no effect.

Not yet. I wait,

In a former favourite hall.

Now it’s nothing. A wait,

At home, there’s little.

Little for me, little to do,

Technology’s out of control.

Those from outback places know best,

I knew a world once.

I knew a word,

There was a silent letter.

Silent, but it changed the sound,

Change: silent e, changed sound.


I watch as a machine cleans,

It does its thing. I’m blind.

Blind and tortured. Blinkers on,

I can’t see right or left.

A cruel event,

The animals fall

To the ground. A broken leg,

Then a bullet.

Then mince meat:

Fit for a king.


A useless greeting,

A loud entrance.

Tell me he’ll leave,

I’ll guard his place.

Some are trusting,

I stole from here.

It was all too easy,

A bat of the lashes. I’m gone.


No one suspects the flirtatious,

She charms and charms her way through life.

We give little. She takes a lot,

Ridiculous care given.

No hand washing allowed,

Give or take, we follow this rule.

Though we may say it’s unjust,

I’m from a rural town.

A rural African town,

The clothing is festive.

The famine a little less,

We consume our dead.

Our little ones,

Then, they live on within us.


The ghosts of children passed on,

In a galley, in a gallery, we stare.

A silent, sombre tomb,

Stand. Stand and bless.

Give your best,

It means little.

Give a little,

It’s theft.


The church is packed to crowding:


Religion was raised by theft,

I was raised on cold medicine.

I’ve a sore throat,

Soon, it will be easier.

So they say,

So some say.

There are no solutions,

There are no answers.

It’s never clear,

The children built this wall.

It locks them in,

It keeps them hid.


The invading force got lost,

Without change, they could not pay.

A roll of fifties,

That which we’ve never seen.

Asking for change,

We’ll change when we’re good and ready.

Change: silent e that changes the sound,

We teach children with song and dance.

They learn little, but it’s creative,

I forgot to send word.

The children are waiting,

I’m ready to break down their wall.

With my bare hands I’ll work,

For years and years I’ll work.

Diligent, this I’ll be,

Passionate, for my cause.


Cause and effect. I await the effect,

Right now there’s sunlight.

This is prone to change,

Prone to call forth to action.

Action steadies us,

It readies us. The door opens and opens.

A bitter young lass,

Blonde, she thought of another life.

She dreamt, as a child,

She dreamt of a washer and dryer.

But now she’s here,

Losing her self-respect.

It smells of chlorine here,

There’s no pooled water.


Backstroke, to the end,

The name of a girl.

The title of a song,

A song of joy: an ode.

I sit cross legged,

The girl had wished to stay.

He stole her seat,

He lives a fantasy.

It’s fantastic,

Former worlds open doors.

At my doorstep, there’s war,

My name’s called. I cower.

In distress, they say,

I’ve merely never been addressed.

Neither by first name nor by last,

My family’s pride. Its name.

Its name’s now lost,

I let it tumble tumble.

With my death, it’s gone,

I await this death.

With drugs,

Which have not taken effect.


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