PLAAS ROMAN (farm poem)
crossing the farmyard
to my domicile
trod on something in the long grass
perfectly camouflaged
looking
for all the world
like a stick
which
of course it was
my penchant for attracting
disaster wrong this instance
not the ambush predator
viper with potent haemotoxic
venom we
both assumed it to be
nor
Cape Cobra (here in
South Africa we have
the prettiest cobra)
nor Boomslang, nor Rinkhals
nor that speed freak elapid of
supreme flowimg motion
olive-gray in colour
hero of
Tarantino’s Kill Bill
but with
silky pitch-black mouth
and me
child of 53, making me
in Chinese
terms
a fellow of that brethren
slow and quiet until called upon
then red-hot writhing, razor
sharp wire
sign of the
creature closest to the
Earth (as I am now) and
thus
with such gravitas
noodle with
nuclear chemistry, one
drop
never instil
thought here on the farm
might
get away from him
hide from the god of life-
energy where
there is
no much
life energy
everywhere I look
plants sacred
to you
and the way you crushed me,
destroyed me
injected me with tragic
beginning to fear
I might be sacred to you too
never to evade you
ever
escape your clutches
as my last days run out
and I can
no longer walk your wild
or love
your women, the ones
you singled out
chose for me perfectly
dreaming of our resurrection
wondering what
you
will tell me, what
you will ask me
man to god
(schemed as a
dithyramb)
about the shared pain and ecstasy torture and beauty
of this life
(forever fall
forever rise)
poems 2 die for 