we were right

we were right
they were right
but we didn’t know it
neither did they

we were also wrong

they were also…

night night

night night
sleep tight
close eyes open eyes
sleep tight dark night
sleep tight
night tight
switch off
switch on
switch on to start again
switch off to switch on
light day tight night
sleep tight
night night
tight night for sight
to start again
again

FIGHT CLUB: 2016

– seconds out!

round number: one million, six-hundred and twenty-eleven & three thousand

pop! go the cultures

*

the crowd are on their feat

suddenly, an unscheduled happening…

lights fail momentarily, but not unexpectedly (that’s the way we roll with Eskom)

the microphone squeals and the commentator takes the first press-ing swing

it’s a stiff jab and it finds its mark – well exceeding the quota system

the self-crowned champion stops in his tracks for a brief moment as if to catch his breath

“hehehehehehe” he chuckles smirkishly

he staggers back and shakes his head

everyone waits,

no one dares to speak

nobody thinks

*

then suddenly he scrapes his toe like a cleft hoof in the dust

defiantly, he charges…

like a bull…

CRASH!

*

round after round

objection after objection

rebuttal after rebuttal

head buttal after head buttal

back and forth the battle rages on

the champion stands firm

but – out of the crowd someone shouts

“the champion is falling…”

“the champion must fall!”

but no, he only stumbles for a brief moment

and then staggers

he turns to his corner and fires a few of his ‘seconds’

“he must fall” some spectators shout

“no, he mustn’t” say others

*

the judges object, …eventually

“we must go according to the rules!”

“what rules? …hehehehehehehe!” says the champion

*

points are taken away

…and then added on mysteriously

*

the battle rages on into the night

*

will cultural tribalism triumph over constitutional democracy

or will it all end in unresolved conflict outside the ring?

*

[break for advertisement – Big business make their presence felt]

*

new replacement seconds out!

round number “AGAIN!”

*

the battle rages on

sweat drips,

runs into blood

(thank God blood is a consumer commodity and easily tax deductible)

*

the clock ticks on…

years turn into days,

days into centuries

decades turn into decadence

unwritten history rewrites itself

*

deadlock

both contestants drop to the canvas

bloodied, exhausted, frustrated

fights break out in the spectator seats

*

chaos

*

the fighters leave the ring momentarily

while local boxing clubs realign regional constitutions

the janitor shuffles amongst the overturned seats

all that can be heard is the slow swish, swish of his broom

*

“a point of order! a point of order!”

“the chairs have been unseated”

*

“when the lights are out its the janitor who is President”

…the sweeper mutters under his breath

the heir & the tortoise

the tortoise seemingly lives for ever
taking his good time getting there
for the rest of us it’s sad to say
it’s gone tomorrow because we’re hare today

in the land of the trees

we all have an achilles heel
those of us who work out diligently in the gym
have more visible ones

in the land of the trees
the bark is of far greater value
than the bite

those who promise to believe

promises are promising
when the promise is made
but time is the judge of most things it is said
speaking with a forked tongue
cuts just as bad
as a stab in the back with double-edged blade

but who is the culprit
who could it be
the double talking promiser
or those who promise to believe?

neon camouflage

a look at me people
but let us tell you what you see
a don’t look too deep people
in case you see through me

a look alike people
it’s who we try to be
we do it all together
we’re all unique you see

to merge into the neon lights
and shine like stars that glow
to stand out amongst the crowd
it’s the only life we know

our veneer is ultra thin
but we sure cake it on thick
parading before the dazzled crowd
it’s our special party trick

a deep superficiality setting in
many layers painted on
the center core is deathly thin
but still we sing our song

look at me, look at me
but don’t tell me what you see
looks at me, look at me
I’ll tell you what to see

all the Twits

all the Twits
are all a-Twitter
but what we really need
is a home run hitter

re:order

if there are no orders

someone will make them

natural order simply is

it poses no demand for obedience

true obedience is nothing but submission

submission is nothing but surrender to selflessness

selflessness seeks no control

selflessness neither desires nor resists

unentitled

a chameleon remains a chameleon
regardless of its colour
though it tries and tries
with all its might
to become like another
we can close our eyes
and clench our teeth
and hold our breath forever
but everybody knows
that culture grows
regardless of the smelly effect
it has on the nose