My World.

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

#politics #southafrica #history #spokenword #poetry #wordsmith #poem