The "f" word - By Charli Wiggill

 

Socially abhorrent

Latent adolescence lingering

With no apparent value

Used all too frequently

Western decadence imploding

The “f” word’ll do us in:

Fast food will kill us all.

reading - by Charli Wiggill

 

forests of words create unique landscapes

turn a page and new vistas appear

crafted by worldly wise wordsmiths

who plant twigs of phrases and

graft splints of clauses

 

fine trees emerge

tall and strong

branches of detail in different directions

now and then cones of fruitful information

and regenerative seeds of truth

 

forests inhabited by small buckpuns,

creepy similes and squishy metaphors

coloured by exotic birds flashing wit and

twittering, indigenous shrubs of irony

peopled by forest folk full of alliteration

 

as time passes and the tree matures

more subplots spin webs in the leaves

characterisation nests in its branches

lichen grows on our psyche, and

climaxes leave issues even less resolved

Underberg Road

Underberg Road                                                        Charli Wiggill

 

In the dense, dark mist

just oozing through
s l o w l y
w a r i l y
w e a r i l y
via Underberg,

having left too late.

 
Smothered in space
by gusts of blind faith.
Grey shadows with feint haloes
spirit by, floating cautiously -
Travelling on the edge of time.
 
Roads department throws a lifeline,
a rosary for safe passage -
bright fluorescent beads
strung together with
white, luminous road paint.
 

So, dangling from this precarious string

we thread our way
and gradually encounter our destination

Headline News

HEADLINE NEWS                          Charli Wiggill

‘Darra-dada, Darra-dada, Darra-dada…

“These ees da News at ate
Presee dent Mbekee, jus bek from Pees Tocks
Sed Zim Bob wee wos on trek
 

Een hees spitch  ata relly in Mtata

She sed of So then Afreeka
‘Da Afreekan Rinay Sonns bee geens et hom’
 

A lokil sed, ‘Arwa dee monds are

Free dom een ebbon errors laaik Harrare
Da pee pulls is suffa reeng’
 

da rehality een da weld too day

Far too meny wee pons like AK47s
Itch and aviary sitizin wonts pis
 
Wekkas wont more mo nee for produk tee vee tee
Dey hed weds weeth da Meeneesta end
One striker wos bitten weeth a steek on hees hed
 
Een Johennes beg these mor neeng
A nother beeg beel ding wos con dem med

End to end on da spor teeng front
Da Cape to R10-00¹ Race was won by…”

 

¹ “The cape to R10 (ten rand) race” – This is quoted verbatim from a SABC3 News Broadcast a few years back and prompted the writing of this piece. Shame on the director (and not the news reader) who allowed this oversight without helping the news reader.

 

local erections

This has been posted before, but as we have national elections in 2014, the profusion of posters has already started destroying the rain forests...
Oh, and our northern neighbour is undergoing their national elections at the very time this is reposted - Zimbabwe, may your country enjoy peaceful elections and move into this century in a belated, but dignified manner...

local erections          

Dedicated, not to our leaders who are true, but to the politicians whose salaries we pay…
abrupt overnight profusion of posters
wanted for your ward placards
(just like in the untamed west)
and brash erectioneering
pimping gimmicks and gadgets -
legalising abortion – what is our cut
procuring peaceful war machines – what is our cut
serving beetroot and African potato - what is our cut
ignoring Baba Robert up north – what is our cut
unequal non-equal equality – what is our cut
unrascist non-racist racism – what is our cut
but your Honour – what is our cut…

when voting
pick your prick
a mistaken cross
(not a tick; get it?)
once erected
some proud members,
huge in stature
stand to be counted
many, less endowed, flaccid
bald head down in the back benches
some swapping parties
some swapping partners
some swapping conjugal rights
for very adult childish games

those upstanding
discuss
pubic amenities
tax cuts
the unkindest cut of all
circumscribe, the cock and bull
while others just work
on keeping up with the Zumas
(quite hard to do… no really!)

at the end of the day
politicians are just like penises:
for the most part – unavailable,
shrouded behind zippers with
two indolent guards just hanging around
at pubic expense
promising big things, but
on delivery
frequently rather disappointing
frequently shooting from the hip
frequently missing the whole –
point
frequently abandoning pregnant pauses
and many bastardised laws

and, mostly, the public get exactly what they want -
after lame pick-up lines,
productive propositioning,
stripping off the truth,
a little fumbling and foreplay,
then voted into orifice –
we get soundly screwed
oh - and the biggest prick usually wins anyway!

Pongola Game Reserve

a harbour

a harbour                                                      Charli Wiggill

 

like freebies from the cereal box

one dimensional plastic goodies
pasted onto extremity of horizon
dinky ships stuck patiently
glued to the deep dark depths
 
harbours lie subserviently
wait vacuously for the masters
vaginal openings, awaiting docking
vessels, cumbersome, take their time
 
then the ships thrust up the channel
to’ing and fro’ing ‘til snugly berthed
copious produce spews out from the bowels
satiating the quayside sheds with cash
 

with succeeding trimesters

local economy grows and swells
proud clan we are, look on
Durban gives life to new berth
Durban gives birth to new life