Colour – it’s time to reflect On what defines us and the goals that we set Apartheid once ruled ‘Baasskap’* was the tool We are better, much better, than that *'Baasskap' was the Afrikaans term used to describe white supremacy in South Africa during Apartheid rule.
Black lives matter - All lives matter from someone living in the most successful and harmonious multicultural nation in the world.
Why do we accept at base What is shown to us in lies Is it because whilst on the screen It’s right before our eyes Are we so shallow not to ask If what we see is true Would we prefer to leave slow thought To someone more like ‘you’
Broken wings Trees collide The river’s safe in bed
Time raced past midday to afternoon light and saw a glint in the sun on the field in the farm Smile dropped in - Joy came to stay and the dog said will anyone throw a ball and come play
I met her at a cafe she was on a common wall out of many one from behind the counter, standing tall She grew impatient quickly and asked me if I own my home No, I’m renting; I’d retort (what business was it of hers I thought) that’s personal – for me to know and me … Continue reading Choice
The camera shot me as I am And not as I had been – Was like the grass in time of drought Before rain turned it green. The bird appeared to be my friend Before he fell on me The ocean was azure blue - Dirt floated to the sea. As I recounted photos, past, … Continue reading Of character a face can tell
It happened.finally.only yesterday I realised whyFires burned day and nighta day at the cinema changed my lifewe came home that day to a shell of a placepossessions lost – distraught, defaced.The rest of the war spent in another’s armsoutside London on a bourgeois farm.but where to now – a Southern Hemisphere yard?where brown grass turns … Continue reading Lucky
I have to print it out to break it down I have to read again to understand I separate the lines to see them flow and build a construct and watch it grow If everyanything* can be done and we make a life from one block – two then somebody’s something we grow to behold … Continue reading a poem
Whenever I sit in the grandfather’s chair I dream what I wish for – that you would be there in a disorganised muddle – I fuddle about stumbling on affection – tripping on doubt yet in your eyes I see a girl – sweet and serene – as if you’re careening – I canoodle and … Continue reading The grandfather’s chair