Post No. 886
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The Raw Heart of Africa
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Civilisation peels back the skin
Of sophistication ~
No more than a veneer
Layered very thin ~
Over Africa’s raw heart.
I bleed to see how
It was used and abused
Bribed over generations
Corrupted, outsmarted
By men who stole its wealth.
And, infected now itself,
It cannot reverse time
But openly try to recover,
Unwrap what was papered over.
.
©Denise G Allen, 16 October 2015 13:30
Post No. 822
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Innate Pride
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Walking tall
Toddler tagging
Newborn
In kangaroo pouch
These women
These mothers
Hold their heads up high
Patient without equal
Uncomplaining
Self-sustaining
Proud to be
Who they are
And what they are
Women, mothers
.
©Denise G Allen, 17 June 2015 15:59
Post No. 809
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Cry
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Cry
My beloved country
The backlash held in place
Has been let loose
The floodgate opened wide
As the frenzied tumult smiles
And rage has set the stage
A country polarised
Emotion rules the nation
A shower head, a laughing stock
A president, a precedent
Weep
While the world’s asleep
Judgement day will come again
And the cross will be our shame
Cry
My beloved country
Cry
.
©Denise G Allen, 31 May 2015 01:54
Post No. 808
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Veld Fire
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Skin crackling crisp
Blackened, peeling,
Exposing raw tissues
New life, new blood
Sanitized, purified
As the fynbos* renews
Year on year
And we watch
The regeneration
Following
The degradation
Full circle again
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*Fynbos
Fynbos is the natural shrubland or heathland vegetation occurring in a small belt of the Western Cape of South Africa, mainly in winter rainfall coastal and mountainous areas with a Mediterranean climate. Wikipedia
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©Denise G Allen, 30 May 2015 06:27
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Goodbye, goodbye, and goodbye,
Madiba,
Bright son of Africa,
Our hearts are saddened to see you leave
But Heaven has called you home.
.
©Denise G Allen, 10 December 2013 00:47
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The music breathes into my soul,
phantom fingers stroke the keys,
draw breath to blow the ‘bone,
wisps of smoke curl overhead
‘gainst the naked globe.
Far, far away atop a craggy hill
the lone, plaintive cry
of a pennywhistle fills the sky
and the mist rises and curls
t’wards the ascending sun.
Nineteen years and what has changed?
Promises unfulfilled ~
The world stands still…
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©Denise G Allen, 27 August 2013 04:00
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The calm of the jungle at dusk,
The soft sounds of creatures
Returning from the waterhole, spent:
Crackling branches, bodies brushing
Against dry bushes as they went.
.
Silence descended slowly as night fell.
We sat relaxed around the fire,
At ease in the surrounding peace,
Sipping our after-dinner drinks
And dreaming of the morrow.
.
ROAR!
RROOAARR! The second, a demanding bellow
Then a series of grunts to follow:
GRUNT, GRUNT, grunt, grunt, g r u n t…
Fading slowly until dead…
Silence dropped heavily back in the hollow
And we all retreated to bed.
.
©DGA 24 January 2012 09:33
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Living on the wild side
To the drum beat
Of the unrelenting heat
Simmering air expanding
Respiration harsh beyond belief
Skin weeps
Until the pouring rain
Brings some relief
.
©DGA 12 January 2012 07:39
GOODBYE AFRICA
Rich velvet voices,
Voices of molten gold,
Silver threads embroider
An audible picture
Of beauty in the wild.
Harmonising sounds,
Shades of dark and light,
As the Painter wields his brush
Creating His portrait of life.
Songs of joy,
Traces of sadness,
Goodbye Africa departing,
The old replaced by the new,
Gold replaced with dross.
Image: Flickr –
Bedik village of Iwol, Southeast Sénégal
by gbaku
©DGA 15.05.2011 06:01
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