Tag Archive: poetry


i woke up this morning to the Twitterer hashtag #IfIDieInCustody sparked by yet another police vs person of colour incident in Americaland. i have already blogged about it here, but the semi-poet in me kept screaming words and phrases and so eventually i sat down and came up with three different flavoured micropoems, for three different groups of people:

= = = = = = = 

white america

to those

of you

who have

made the

jump

from ‘those people’

to

‘our brothers and sisters’

there is

but one small

leap left to make

when your cry

becomes

“Stop killing US!”

maybe then

someone will

take notice…

= = = = = = = 

justice for Sandy

they found her

a life taken

by her our own hands

and as i

rush once more

to vent my

frustration

on another hashtag

the policeman’s

stammering justification

rings in my ears

= = = = = = = 

white american church

how dare you

remain silent

as she tries to

work out a melody

using only

the black keys

on your

grandma’s old piano?

rise up

and let your

privilege be heard

as your fingers

crash down upon

those ivory keys

and your integrated song

helps to

gently lower her body

into a sandy grave

= = = = = = = 

With huge thanks to Original Dante who got me inspired to start pouring my many words into just a few.

[For my 2015 Micropoetry journey so far, click here]

i believe

there is

a town

where you stay

called competence

it seems

you never

venture far

outside of

its boundaries

because any time

i need some help

you appear

to be

still

very much there

[To read more of my shorter poem vibes, click here]

i dial

your number

hoping

this time

will be different

but that

elevator music

is playing

once more

[For more of my Micropoetritic attempts, click here]

i have been well inspired by my new friend Original Dante who has an exceptional gift at writing Micropoetry to try put together some of my own.

i have no idea how he manages to fit SO MUCH into so few words which has clearly always been a problem of mine and so maybe tackling some Micropoetry will help me in general to write more using less.

So here goes – these are the Micropoems i have published this year – i hope you will enjoy them:

about turn

closed – people who have to tell you how open-minded they are often aren’t

coffee – the truth behind the addiction

good intentions – does my desire to help you outweigh my present comfort?

hypocoffeecracy – one of my wrestles at the moment

idiots – this one inspired by my wife, tbV

in competence [an ode to Telkom phone assistance operators]

knowing her

phone bank

racist – the words we use betray us

robbed – my best friend lost the battle to cancer this year

stop the noise! – If you have nothing good to say online…

the alchemist – watching a man turn my trash into gold

their pain – when someone else is going through grief and you have no words

triple threat [three poems to different audiences in the wake of #IfIDieInPoliceCustody and Sandy Bland death]

[For other longer poems i have written in 2015, click here]

her voice

whispers yes

but

it’s the sadness

i see

behind her eyes

that reveals

the honest no

[For some more of the poems i have come up with in 2015, click here]

i recently discovered the incredibly gifted Dante who writes incredible micro poetry on his blog, Original-Dante. Thinking my poetry would definitely err on the macro side we decided to do a collaboration and use the same title to inspire two different poems and so here is my offering:

THOUGHTS FROM THE BLENDER

i gaze into the mirror
and the person staring back at me is not you
i cast my eyes across to your face
slowly becoming aware of
the lines of a well-worn path
have i even set foot on that road before?

i stare more deeply into your soul
only to have pictures of my life
flood back at me
i fling them to the ground
as i ready myself to dive right in
but am blocked by the life-sized
lifeless cardboard cutout that stands in my way

me
my life
my words
my thoughts
and my experiences
trying to tell your story through my voice
only rings in my ears
like a much-repeated but long-forgotten fairy-tale i thought i knew
so i close my eyes

and it takes a whole long time
minutes pass like hours
or are those indeed hours
that i am waiting upon
until what is ours
eventually starts to ever so slowly fade

days pass
and i can just about make out the
pathetic sad little robotic figure that is me
waving one last goodbye final wave
as it slides out of the peripheries
and i am gone

still me
still here
eyes closed
waiting
listening to the heaviness of
the air being breathed in and out around me

suddenly
as if you had always been there
watching silently from the shadows
my ears catch sight of you
through the words i’ve taken time to hear
to really listen to
and a picture of you begins to take shape
and you look different than i had ever taken time to imagine

i pull my eyes more tightly shut
knowing that to open them again
would ruin my chances
of ever truly opening them again

and i look once more
as your sound travels towards me
in wave after wave of deep illumination

rich colours are realised
and this new person that is you
more you than you have ever been
and yet completely the you
you have always been and are
the you i never got to see
beyond my stereotypic perceptions
of the you i have always ever painted you to be

oh but when you paint you
what a glorious you
you turn out to be
words become stories
which take shape
in, through and around the pain
that lies scarring your embattled torso
and i see
the you that is you is nothing like
the you that is me.

and it is good.

[To read my new mate Original Dante’s much shorter poem with the same title, click here] 

Also we would love to hear what you think of the experiment of doing a long and a micro version using the same title as inspiration – once you’ve read both, please comment on how you experienced the combo…

Toying with the Idea at Hand

the unholy matrimony
of knees falling to the ground
as the king rides past

in the background
the flag is being hoisted
and draped over
the crossbeams of the steeple

as i hear my words
pledging their allegiance
i dip my hand
into the offering box
and draw out two tiny coins
believing Caesar already has enough to go around

the silver coins scattered
around me on the ground
remind me it is getting late

[This poem was inspired by the style of my friend Michael Toy who writes much better poetry than me which can be found here and you should definitely consider buying his book ‘Blame it on the Huehuetenango’ which is really great]

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