streetlights

with apologies to Sylvia Plath

hovering above the traffic

ever-present

all seeing

watching us

our humanity

our frailty

waiting patiently

great globular bowls of light

floating above the street

disciplined

precisely in line

lunar craft

billions of them

quietly strategising overhead

extra-terrestrial saucers

camouflaged in apparent tranquillity

feigning peace and co-existence

benignly illuminate our safe suburbs

bide their time

await the appointed hour

Straw Berry

She lies, reclining

Sensually to one side

No gaunt glances from

This fleshy model -

No mass-media hype

Or anorexic analogies

Rather, great

Voluptuous scarlet

Hips and thighs thrust out

Quilted with golden buttons.

She wears a dainty, starry

Wreath about her head,

Laurels of a distinguished past.

Inside, her delicate

Fine flesh

Pink, inviting

Welcomes the prodding tongue

Opening up her fine

Moist secrets.

The loss of innocence

She captivates the imagination

She captures your soul.

proliferation of silence

scientific argument looms lunaticlarge

international community shouts realdollars

developed world in educated superiority

developing world grasping vermin of society

accusations pointed both at each, rife

foundations fund concoctions of antidote

shout publicity of humanitarian aid

scientific argument looms lunaticloud

silently, my car zeros at the traffic light

surveying the numb ooze of idyllic city scenes

swamped by orphaned toddlers up on tippy-toes

gazing blankly into my quiet home comfort

glue bottle readying the quite cold comfort

silent unsaid messages stated loud and clear

I stare blankly through their veiled pleas

silently, my heart zeros at the traffic light

silently, I sit at your side, next to you

bedclothes steaming, a crumpled tangle

eyes adrift in a tempestuous, stormy sea

misdirected and focusing behind beyond

many unasked answers in your emaciated face

government plods ponderously, retro-virally

society silences the inevitable, we silence silence

silently, I sit far from your side, next to you

Seascape

                                  Seascape

                              Sceptical salvo

Of Saliferous saltarellos

            Soulful sayings stridently sounding

    Sizzling and stewing, the sullen spectre sits

Solidly on. Ships squat silently                 brooding

On the speculation of what might                    be.

The swishing and swashing, swiping

At sand and stone – swallowing shells

And squelching. Spattering spray away

And scattering seagulls. A slippery silvery

Tongue salivates a sudden saline shoulder

To the sedentary mass. A smash of solidarity;

Constellation of candyfloss sans substance. Just

Superficial  snowy sherbet.  Synthesised structural

Sculptures  stolidly  on shores  settling  to surface and

Sliding silently southwards, seawards. A lone gull sweeps

Overhead – screeching the most heartrending tale in birdspeak

A few yards away its mate spread-eagled – plastic packet punctuating

Its putrefying plumage. Shimmering silica settles – a stoical scene survives. 

Leapfrog - (written in South Africa in 2004)

ten years on

contraction of conscience

leapfrom

sloboutCOMFORTABLE

plumpsofamind to

abyssof chance

dare to risk,

grow faith,

tweak conscience,

proposition this jumpyear

sleep with hope,

swim the justiceRubicon and

spawn tadpoles of change.

eye the fly and

‘ribbit’ the lie:

don’t heed amorphous bullfrogs,

don’t heed amphibious speech

slithering in slimyhalftruths -

don’t frogmarch to conformity.

so

forget spongyteeveemind

squashdoubt with webbedfeet

outcroak loud negacroakers

jump us to world agendas

Africa needs visionaries