People gather on the streets a bottle’s thrown petrol flares…
Shelves are cleared bags are stuffed snatch a shopping cart fill it to the brim seize a hi-fi grapple with a fridge snatch another shopping cart come back for more!
Grab your phone tell your friends the shelves aren’t empty yet and not a cop in sight…
We might pick up the pieces we might mend fences but it’s going to be a long road back.
The image shows a bust of a man. A dark thick liquid is being poured on it.
Important note: this poem was written from the photo prompt. The fact that it shows a dark liquid being poured on a white figure should not be taken as a representation of the violence that has occurred here in South Africa. The victims of the violence are primarily Black African-owned small businesses whose shops have been destroyed in shopping centres and malls, and the staff who work in the big retail outlets there.
From the very first time I stepped onto the continent of Africa in 2003, that moment when I put my foot onto the tarmac at Cape Town airport, I felt a strange tingle in my bones; I felt I’d come home. So far as I’m aware, I have no family roots anywhere on this huge continent, but nevertheless, I felt an affinity with the land. Even before connections and coincidences led me and my husband to start another chapter in our lives in South Africa, ten years ago, I’d become fascinated with the landscape, the wildlife and the people who’d foraged along the shores and wandered over the wide, scrubby grasslands of the veld.
The story of the original inhabitants of what is now the Western Cape is a sad one of exploitation, displacement and dispossession, all so tragically similar to many of indigenous populations across the world. I’ve followed my fascination with those early people, the Khoisan through works of both fact and fiction – there’s a reference list of books I’ve read at the end of this post – but it’s their legends and customs that have increasingly inspired my writing.
A nod or two to those landscapes and traditions have wormed their way into my most recent novel, Song of the Sea Goddess, and the so far unnamed sequel I’m busy with now, but for the most part my inspirations have manifested themselves in some of the short pieces and poems which I’ve shared here on my blog, like my San Man stories last year, and more recently, my micro-fiction series, Owab and Aquila.
Also last year, when the opportunity arose, I wrote a handful of poems inspired by the legends and landscape of South Africa to submit for inclusion in Creation and the Cosmos – a Poetic AnthologyInspired by Nature, edited and published by the talented tara caribou of Raw Earth Ink. I was delighted to have all five of them accepted and to have my words included amongst the poems and photographs of a such a wonderfully talented group of creatives. Here’s one.
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Call of the maiden
The breeze-caressed veld sways sending dry waves to break on a distant shore whirlwind dust-devils dance over bare earth rising up to be scorched into stillness.
Evening swells across the veld and the thorn-tree’s shadow reaches out with tendril fingers to caress the smudge-blue foothills.
As daylight fades, the breeze quickens and the new maiden emerges standing on the threshold of the distant koppie in that powerful place between hearth and wilderness.
She turns and kneels at the young man’s side offering herself to him. Limbs entwine and under the eyes of the ancestors they become one.
Darkness closes in and the great African she-moon rises pin-prick stars stab the violet-thick night and now the once-maiden cries out her triumphant ululation echoing across the empty veld.
brazen beauty strutting on the stage taunting, teasing, technicolour dreams reaching for the bright lights looking for the wrong types see me, touch me, feel me take me, make me yours
drenched in glitz and glamour splayed legs go on forever shiny skin, huge black eyes lips that shine and pout beat thumping, heart racing she can never give enough
falling, sprawling every night another bed white lines, liquid gold rolling in the sultry dark waking, shaking dress torn and lipstick smeared
it happened once too often
star winked out
peel her from your wall fold her up and put her in your pocket.
Image credit:Sean Robertson @Unsplash The image shows a painting of a woman on a wall. There are words scribbled on the sides of the wall art and people have drawn on the face too.
White-out world cold and stark bleak as the day you went away alone in the dark heart beating soul freezing night closes in no-one to love no-one to hold without you everything comes to a halt please will you throw me a rope.
Staring up, beyond the confines of my yard Up into the sky, so wide and blue Paws poised Ears and eyes alert Ready to run, jump, fly! Don’t try to stop me, no… On I go, Go, Superdog, Go!
Image credit: Elias Castillo @ Unsplash The image shows a dog wearing a shirt with “Superman” logo on it. There is a cape flowing from the back of the T- shirt.
Image credit: Dakota Corbin @ Unsplash The image shows a wall decorated by splashes of colour. There are outlined sketches of two hands on the wall. Above the decorations, the words “The best gift is you” are written. A woman can be seen walking a baby in a stroller in the front.
Image credit: Clay Banks @ Unsplash The image shows an older man sitting on a bench by a park. There is a trolley bag behind him. He is playing a stringed instrument and has a collection bag by his feet.
Thanks to Cassa of Flicker of Thoughts and Spira of inSPIRAation I have learned what the instrument in the photo is. Called a Erhu, it makes a most beautiful sound:
Darkness comes early on these winter days colour drains from bleached frigid skies cobalt tints bleed to shades of stone dripping into gun-metal water remorseless, brutal devoid of hope.
Darkness crowds in on these winter days warmth leaches from dwindling vistas landscapes recede, horizons narrow care-free life flutters out of reach fading to remembrance of times past.
A glimmer remains on these winter days a single shaft of sunlight reaches out to dispel today’s sombre skies one ray of honeyed promise for a golden new tomorrow.
Varicoloured, head spinning, ebb and flow below Easy now, no need to go Reflect on your decision. No! Taking my leave now I’m stepping out Gasping, grasping Oblivion.
Image credit: Sean Robertson @ Unsplash The image shows a view of a busy street from the top of a tall building. Down below you can see traffic and pedestrians.
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