My World.
- Thabiso Nkoana
- Mar 11, 2015
- 2 min read
I dwell upon a rock
where the death of an old man
brings life to a sudden halt.
Where enemies transform to charlatans
falsely interpreting the neoteric gospel
to propagate a stature they lack
a schizophrenic tendency to elude the blind
and shout sour somethings to the deaf
This realm which within I view
the foreign adorned with gold
made more precious than the earth from whom that wealth they stole
for their comfort the space remains of old
to secure for them a home from home
whilst buckets remain in fold
This is how to distract the locals
misdirect them
so all they speak is the racial story some fools foretold.
Do not misconstrue this poetic pose
Okay, let me bring it back to earth
The “Washing Laughter” regaled
amidst sounds of dissent
with tales of revolutionary, people focused leadership
while his people hoard cattle
into kraals built by the people
with the people’s assets
So too did the “Bar Rack” display bottled messages of tranquillity
in a stately drone
not long after his disturbance of the peace
inebriated the uninvolved
with the stench of death
from a flowing faucet of blood
Do not misconstrue this poetic pose
as the neighbour of a Moon
tried with might to confuse
the weather weathering crew
with utopian views and reconciliatory news
while at the same time they subdue a peace-honouring muse
and they misuse his meditative few too
Oh, let me not mention the curators of uncommon wealth
paying respect
displaying incest
conveying content
maintaining the mess
that is first and third debt
Oops, I did mention
For I do not wish for you to misconstrue this poetic pose
it is simply a map to find an end to hypocrisy
to expose a lie and seek the truth
You see, we need to refocus our energy on the politics of community
spend our time on the often quoted re-shaping of humanity
sink our ink into papers to draft clichés of simplicity
Okay, let me bring it back to earth
The guardians of your security should be fed a smile
more than once in a while
in fact, acknowledge their wives
and give credence to their children’s lives
See the door next to, in front of and behind yours
as a space to explore
to learn more
not to ignore or abhor
with that,
“Ag, they think they special, but both sleep on the floor and they snore!
So loud, we can hear them even while our television roars!”
I am convinced,
there is now not a way to misconstrue this poetic pose
composed in this realm which within I view
the common adorned in gold
made more precious than the wealth the earth does hold
no way to misconstrue the poetic pose
composed on this rock upon which I dwell
where the death of an old man
brings life to a sudden halt.
Thabiso Nkoana © 12/12/13
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