SAID IS DONE

Words are actions

Each one follows on

Leading from

And leading to

Giving substance

To these thoughts

Of me and you

Everyone a bridge

Straddling time

Jaded moments that could be

And the persistent possibility

That lies behind my eyes

Dispersed throughout a scene

Of an illusory memory

Stretching out before me

My footprints in places

Where I have never been

And behind me

A vaguely familiar

Windswept landscape

Constant and shifting

In the Eyes of a Child... / Dreaming with my eyes closed...

To my other brother
And my sister
And my other brother
That will be
My brother that is
Becoming now
A part of all
Future discourse...

What you looking at?

The Cape Town Book Launch...

A LOVE LETTER FOR THE EPOCH

There are still a few copies of the second edition remaining @ R120 per copy or R100 if you buy more than one. Inbox me for more info on how to purchase.

MINUS 34

Thirty four is not

Equal

To fifty-one-point-eight-million

It is not me

Nor you

It was them

The thirty-four from the headline

That are late.

Thirty four plus

Two parents each

Plus a spouse and siblings

And an average

Of two-point-four-two

Minors

And suddenly thirty four

Is equal to more than a few hundred.

Thirty four miners

Buried underground

Beneath the deceit

And piled-up profits

That pays the executioner

And buys the lies

As state-sanctioned murder

Is normalized.

Minus thirty four

A democratic massacre

More blood on the balance sheet

Of the corporation slave master

Brutal bastards who lurk

Behind manicured smiles

And doctored public profiles

That will never stand trial.

Tomorrow's Yesterday

And as one adventure concludes

we are faced

with the prospect
of so much more

beckoning to be begun.

Love, passion, life and living.

Memory.

No one truly exists

without the other.

Yet exist we do
even
if only to sustain

hope in the tumult

of progression.

A brief tribute...

In the yellow enamel mug, place half pap and fill with milk - stir with fork. +/- 2cm boiling water in smallest pot - add a pinch of salt, add pap and stir - Start at 6 & reduce to 3 once it starts to pop/boil. Add a good dollop of butter and stir.

Serve in a small, flattish white bowl. Dad will add sugar... May our memories remain alive!

Spoken Word Namibia - May 2014

Pic by Don Stevenson

IN DEATH

There exists

An extended moment

Momentarily eternal

Eternally challenging

Perpetually illuminating

Yet passing

Embracing

Beyond the past

Into a future

Inevitably without you

And ultimately me: 

Incontrovertibly true

THE HEART OF SOUND

Here

In the heart of sound

I am loathe to speak

To express

Listen

Understand

Here in the heart of sound

Where the deception

And distraction

Mean nothing

More than noise

Nothing

More than cacophony

Just more noise

No understanding

Hear

The heart of sound

Unadorned and inviolate

Pure and un-maligned

As honest

As truth can ever be

Subjective

Not necessarily

Interested in

Objectivity

Here

Inside the heart

Of sound where

I fail

To express

I listen filtering

Faltering

Unable to hear

Ambient noise

Disturbing

Disturbed

And deluded

Distrusted

And depressed

Dissonant

Dissidence

Here in the heart of sound

Where silence is 
Alien and the familiar

Is strange

Hence

I am loathe to speak

To express

Any truth or honesty

I listen