ROCKET
good rocket morning
to express
my love
a rocket
is on its
way to
you
watch the sky
should arrive
in a
couple
of seconds
expecting the flaah
I will be
watchimg
the sky too
ROCKET
good rocket morning
to express
my love
a rocket
is on its
way to
you
watch the sky
should arrive
in a
couple
of seconds
expecting the flaah
I will be
watchimg
the sky too
LIVESTREAM
.
woke up
minutes
before
the dawn
still alive
so made
some coffee
read the news
being livestreamed:
no nuclear
war in the laat
quarter
of an hour
quiet
hosannas
and hallelujahs
hope that
despite our
terminally insane
rulets and
leaders
the world might
just survive
the hour
ZADIE (3)
Oh Zadie
your words
hurt me
I was wandering
along the periphery
eating an onion
gifted me
by Roland Barthes
when
I overhead a word
that hit me with
all its 50 megatons
and so, I had no option,
but to
take it to heart
which
would have killed me
had not realised,
it was
not
actually a bullet
and only like a bomb
by virtue
of
analogy
a prime (should I say
“primed”) example of
metaphoric
thinking
and I rose
to go on
my way
fight again another day
but then another bullet
hit me, though
you may say
I just walked into
it
but luckily, was
a recent arrival, via
plucky trade
a miracle, God be praised!,
and I was saved
its manufacture British
Oh Zadie your
barrage, blast, MG-42 spray
so totally
nailed my argument.

POLICE BE
police be
a reality
peace
uphold
the vanity
steamroll through
happy metaphor
such as
carnival
of Peace
cracking heads
breaking ribs
the like it when
you go
crunchy
(much prefer
to smooth)
came in ranks
came in files
along
the flanks
a navy blue line
many navy blue lines
that
in storming
the stairs
fell
out of step, became
Mongol horde
become
throwback
sheriff and
all those deputies
Bob Marley missed
rowdy, bouncy,
sad that
there have
to be prisoners
their mission, God-given,
all about nipping whatsoever
with
measure
of violence
in the bud
HIND
your last moments
how
can we forget them
ever forget
them
now they are
seared into us
like
a cannon flash
and we
here promise you
little angel
to clear the world of this evil
make it safe
from
the power that is
death and deaths
league
of demons
let us return
its agents
back to the dust
from whence they came
naming
the darkest places in
the human heart
after them
placing them
in the innermost circle
of the forever Hell
that
is satanic mind
OUTSIDE YOUR TEMPLE
that line from Robbie Williams
about talking to God
floating
through my brain
woke up
and suddenly found I had
strayed into your
encampment
masquerading as sort-of
poet, philosopher,
lover of Zen
and all bladed weapons
watching you agog
amazed: every
action small
and large, every word
both long
and short
a telling truth to power
something about
the semiotics here, though,
a red, red flag
to tormented souls
skewered by the fatal ironies
of such massive, cosmic,
toxic contradictions
their Empire
a prison
from which they
cannot, dare not,
refuse to
don’t know
haven’t the faintest idea
how to escape
this dream world best
world
worst of
all possible worlds
****
and here
is a figure too, West Coast
Italian in
robe soiled and tattered
barefoot, perhaps
those feet
not having seen water since
the Pope kissed those toes
crosses in
front of me, of
pure
holy squalor our
most iconic figure
a figure
so joyous
hard not
to hazard a guess as
to who he
just has to be
****
the police are here
in riot gear
they
have their
orders
they
beg
to differ
what happens from hereon
in
is scripted
like a victim selection
bombing program
it was authored by machine

JOSEPHINE AT THE PANTHEON
she danced funny
went bananas
sang so sweetly
every
trill a thrill
(full
chanson)
danced across
Europe and North Africa
all
around the Gestapo
and so
when they needed someone
to put the PAN
back into pantheon
rub
shoulders with
dirty old Voltaire
this daughter of
Africa
queen of diaspora
maiden
of humanity
was a natural choice
DEMOLITION JOB
My Mother’s voice
am overhearing
telling someone eager
to listen
they knew what
this place was like
they knew what they
were coming to
did they not know
what to expect
front page
back page
centrefold spread
Greek chorus
gossip horror
the shock
the shame
character assassination
and they
or rather he the husband
having Army training
explosives, sabotage
blowing up
things behind Nazi lines
now
out there consorting
with the men of shadow, figures
in the night
feared
shape – shifters
blowing up pylons
disrupted the sacred electricity supply
and me
that night all night
hearing the Indian Ocean waves roaring in to
crash on the shores of False Bay
so much Sun here, Sun
Sun
Sun for everybody
this man and his
accomplices
attempting to take
this Sun
away
****
sixty years
and we have crossed them
in a heartbeat
so much of that time
faintly remembered
not even
taught in schools
(sad that
somehow we
have so relegated history)
but now
a different narrative,
a whole different narrative
a whole different way
of thinking of ourselves, this place
and how
we came here
stifled, imprisoned,
imposed our colonial mindsets
stuck our future in tiny cells
on an island in Table Bay
for long
bitter decades fearing
no hope of solution, no path
to a liberation
that migh
allow redemption
a moment of memory
viewed
with
a self-
forgiveness
graced by the acceptance
of the perspective of great change
****
and here we are
my dear, absurdly conversing
in the light of all those years
democracy waiting
in the wings, or rather
on an inhospitable island
time
become its true essence
as pure
duration
imprisoned consciouness
until
it was not
you born
in the year of its ending
of the release
salvation
far
from its memory, vague
on its history
of the swirling eddies and currents that
despite every counter-
possibility produced
a dawn, a new
day
and now
history has done
a demolition, removed
those back-then voices
that spoke with such
blind conviction,
presumed authority
as
it slowly, inexorably
whittled me away
but across
land and ocean
the old monster
has
found lease of life, more
hideous incarnation
the drive to inflict the worst
of which we are possible
on fellows
of our species
as they, we
did back then
would have done to you
(and now this voice
those voices
who do
they belong to, what
are they saying?)