Wednesday, March 1, 2017




with anguish a hunger  a heart that seeks
with plagues pains of the past
deserted roads of dissident dust unjust
with deceased spirits
voiced words of poets of old
(not with diamonds and gold)
its homes  hums with a sad song
its trees rustles with violent diphthong
dismal disgrace that its grass sing
rebel rain that its contaminated clouds bring
echoes with dreaded disease
cruel crime’s unease
its defiled rivers run old atrocious tears
new brutal fears
its wicked wind breathes absurd
whispers a massacre message unheard

Africa has become possessed to possess
somehow here guilt shoots no arrows
and this long awaited new noon
casts putrid strange shadows
under a liberated moon
‘the dark river that moved many wheels’
now tolerates those that murders rapes steals
poets let us write  let us again expose
not remain comatose

land of freedom’s greatest son
land of sailing ships in sun
where elephant buck and buffalo run
of shacks and shelters drums and slums
land of laurels of  loving  dazzling high rise buildings
threatened by envenomed yearnings
nights flashes blue sirens red lights
airports busy fights
many begging plights
amongst native flowers indigenous trees
above magnificent mountains
amidst nature’s wilds that beat that throb
along infected eroded blood spilt roads
hear the babies the children widows weep and sob
listen to aged the victims the dejected the deprived
how much brutality will this future forgive again survive
other evils sneak faceless in the crowd
so much is overlooked allowed
children no longer freely play
whilst citizens just walk away
just  hope  just  cope
gather in steepled churches
visit malls of glass concrete and steel
shop   travel   try to ignore this ordeal
huddle home to fenced secured insulated fumigated
air-conditioned bonded brick houses

it is our rainbow Africa that calls
with penury malady suffering
it begs  it cries
too many lies
infected livers  lungs  eyes
too many deaths
festering too many flies
too many prisoners
distressed unsafe citizens
it weeps it screams
with excretion  depletion
decomposed dreams  beg   cry
drowned in the frenzy flood
of what we deny
Africa of too may why’s
it suffocates in murdered blood
it speaks it wreaks
it shouts  as it dies     as it dies     as it dies



it was an endless wicked white winter
yet spring bloomed blushing hopeful colourful
awaiting calm of freedom’s balm
justice’s psalm
black beautiful ebony nights
colourless cool pastel days
survived in chameleon ways
however more suffused
times threatening ominous confused
now the psychedelic streets
rivers and tears run red
again flowing blood         flood
a devastating time of famine fear
emptying bowls
haemorrhaging souls
crime stained cryptic autumn came
khaki security patrols
orange prison overalls
this silver season stripped
more than bark steel and wire
disease pirated our people
it hijacked hopes
it rooted up trees
raped dreams
smashed tombstones
orphaned children
old age and mental patients left to die
left us all hopeless homeless
we can not see a blue sky
or an innocent yellow bird fly
our eyes are again filled
with cruel crimson sorrow
our ruby hearts and bellies remain hollow
waiting for a better evergreen tomorrow?
listening to that drummer
playing a ‘promised purple summer’!

Mari Ballot (C)

Africa’s children.......

their desolate moons         festoon too many inane eyes
their hungry winds            exhume their starving cries
a never ending hostile season   sucked their smiles
tiny fists and feet    hurling stones
unborn bones   infested faceless foetuses
begging without words
their desperate deaths        shall dwell at our laden tables
scrape our wombs
castrate our worlds
bleed  us  wounds
inhabit our words
the barren sky breaks   the sun scores
a hand not a hand
a mouth not a mouth
a child not a child
no laughter
no toys
no games
no dreams
we will never know their tormented names
little slow  stunted steps    meagre  minds   forsaken
unknown beakless birds
their unspoken plead
pitiless shadows of a different war
a milkless mother comforts croons
empty spoons
humanity mocks
nothing shocks
fatherless figure sticks
thin thread twigs
brittle silhouettes
bulging eyes
like animated anatomies     hollow palms  has-beens
urge unto our plasma screens
from callous coffinless places      where we have never been
into our luxurious family rooms
between million dollar ads  and  fads
diseases famine we have never seen

our earth is not holding them      what is their deserving
whilst they stare voiceless at a heartless heaven
that they know nothing about…..


MARI BALLOT: Country South Africa. Nationality: South African Living In Stellenbosch near Cape Town Mother tongue was Afrikaans. Wrote her  1st poem at the age of 5. Have written hundreds more but now finishing her novel.

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