Heroes Small Enough [REVISED]

A new James Bond film Skyfall surprised & inspired me,
I thought Daniel Craig could only play in terribly violent
films of the series - wrong, in this instalment he showed
devotion to duty & his stern boss, stiff-upper-lip lady M

Concepts of values, devotion to fatherland & loyalty to
principle always quicken my blood, make my heart beat
faster, confer meaning to life; having read of destitute
families after fire destroyed their homes and seeing

A TV program about a little Chinese girl with fatal, and
inoperable facial melanoma life was so sad - but James
Bond took care of it, watching 007’s adventures I feel
inspired to make a difference in my colleagues lives

I must confess Mandela’s life makes me feel devotional
& pious, but it is is too holy to inspire me; I feel small,
insignificant when confronted with forgiveness he showed
his jailers - I don’t see anyone following his example

Enemies still fight each other; yet James Bond holding
lady M as she lay dying, both remaining faithful to their
country in opposing the enemy agent trying to kill them
creates fiction enough to replace despair I feel seeing

Unconquerable, otherworldly morality set by a saintly
Nelson Mandela. Thank goodness for heroes small
enough to capture the fancy of us little people who
cannot forgive our enemies the way Mandela did

There Might Be [REVISED]

When I explained why I could not follow my colleagues’
conversation you pointed out they were right and I was
wrong; it made me glad you’re as normal as they - and
sad I wasn’t like you or them, but so it is, precisely

And why should I expect your understanding, I married
you because you were normal - and thus it ground me
to earth - frequently I’ve said I could never survive with
someone like me. Regrettably you don’t think my

Weirdness brings much to you & yours - another thing
I have to accept, plus being outsider to normals who
routinely take charge of everything – oh well, maybe
in heaven* there might be a place for me

[*heaven = any other place but this earth]

[26 December 2013]

New Hostilities [REVISED]

You watch reality TV, British celebrities illustrating
their own Christmas dishes while I want to watch
fantasy movies with tinkling glass dolls animating,
failed magicians saving others by illusions, robots
helping old men with heists

Then you tell me off in strident terms for eating
forbidden bread - today’s happy, floating feeling
completely flees, the atmosphere changes, we’re
worlds apart - my glittering snowflakes and nativity
scene are banished from the main sitting room:

Snowflakes and sheep and baby Jesus covered
in gold - the results of my more zealous phase,
we’re smothered in disappointment by these new
hostilities, you watch your reality TV and I’ll live in
my preferred fantasy world…
[24 December 2013]


[ORIGINAL:]

You watch reality TV, British celebrities illustrating
their own Christmas dishes, I want to watch fantasy
movies with tinkling glass dolls coming alive, failed
magicians saving others using illusions, robots to
help old men with heists

After you told me off in strident terms for eating the
forbidden bread the atmosphere changed, the happy
feeling floating me through the day completely went
away, we are worlds apart - my glittering snowflakes
and nativity scene banished from

The main sitting room: snowflakes and sheep and baby
Jesus covered in gold - the result of my more zealous
phase,  disappointment with the new hostilities, you
watch your reality TV and I watch my fantasy…

[24 December 2013]

More Of A Saint

After two weeks of steeping myself in Mandelalore - I watched
until the channel broadcasting his life closed down - I’m so struck
with the miracle that played itself out, I’m speechless – and can’t
write any more. To contemplate the liars who concocted racial
segregation and sold it under Biblical justification and separate
but – and here’s the biggest lie of the century – but EQUAL
opportunities; and the foolish voting public who accepted the
lie without questioning it – makes me furious; angry at myself
as I never felt interested in politics and did not know that
those evil politicians were dishonest to the Nth degree.
 
Then comes the miracle: how everything they threw at Nelson
Mandela to kill his spirit and obliterate his name from the world’s
consciousness, made him stronger and nobler and increased the
world’s interest until the day he walked free and behaved so saintly,
it charmed everyone, from trusting children to other evil politicians,
beyond description. And I feel cheated when I see his smile and the
little jiggle he gave when others danced, because I never got the
chance to see him. Not meet him, too many were in line – only
see him; that would have been enough.
 
Mandela’s fixation on his one goal, freedom for his people and a JUST
dispensation in his country, enabled him to overcome all hatred for his
jailers. His determination to understand his enemy led to his studying a
new language and read their history and literature – in the end he knew
more about them than Afrikaners know about themselves. His endeavours
brought about something never encountered in fiction because writers
love to reinforce the image of the vengeful warrior returning to destroy
his enemies, failing to visualise a visionary who can do the opposite –
thus failing to be visionaries themselves.
 
Nobody could visualize such a scenario until it happened for real. How

privileged we are to have a Mandela in our history, how delightful that he

averted the scourge of war and created a new society by the force of his
personality. Today my grudge is that the special Mandela channel was
closed before I had the chance to see everything about him one more time
– or twenty times, given my obsession. And the most marvelous thing about
Mandela is, he did not wait for any god or higher force to GIVE his vision to
him, he worked at it himself. He respected all religions but never trusted in
man-made ideas of what godly beings should be and do for him; he simply
went ahead and did it all by himself.
 
He is more of a saint than any one of those saints people have concocted
before…

Our Own Anarchy (REVISED)

Finally, and in retrospect - the Anglo-Boer war takes on
deeper meaning, it seemed an economic war between
two white cultures fought over nationality and greed: a
stronger nation, Britain, set out to extinguish the Dutch
culture here through a scorched earth policy as Boers
rebelled against the idea of British colonisation

But Madiba studied Afrikaner history - realised any war
would result in needless death of women and children,
saw our nation was determined to sacrifice all for right
to govern itself, that both sides would suffer too much;
it would destroy our lovely country - and Madiba only
ever dreamed of a glorious, peaceful reconciliation

On Robben Island he applied his insight, won respect
of wardens, taught fellow prisoners; saw his vision of
reconciliation in light so clear he influenced each and
all by his presence while negotiating a new constitution
for our country after his release - conferring freedom
to all people, irrespective of race, colour or creed

Mandela spoke perfect Afrikaans, hailed the excellence
it brought to the fold by keeping the Springbok emblem,
engaging Zelda LaGrange as his personal assistant &
saying all Afrikaners had to be freed racial segregation
to free the nation, and he freed us - thus charming the
then President, all of the people and the whole World

But for lessons of the Anglo-Boer strife we might have
faced full-scale war, our mettle didn’t need testing and
by viewing us the oppressors nothing would stop ANC
progressing their aims; Mandela knew that fighting for
our freedom came from our forbears who had been
oppressed in Europe, the Cape then the new Province

Transvaal; our history was fighting all odds to be free -
Madiba could see our subjugation fears by recognising
we’re survivors, the Netherlands - Spain 80 year war,
religious persecution of believers - the Edict of Nantes
in France - we’d nowhere to go unlike other Europeans-
in-Africa with safe homelands; we’ve a new language,

Afrikaans, a far cry from Dutch origins, literature of 100
years - if there’s war amongst African tribes we won’t
leave, we’ll stay, fight for our country’s progress, lives
of our people and indigenies - with whom I found such
joie de vivre I willingly trade stiff upper-lip western
incredulity for our own form of African anarchy…

My Mythical, Biblical Mandela

This is how I see it; Mandela is the prophet who
brought me out of slavery and into equality of the
promised land. The joy it brings me can never be
tarnished, he set me free before I knew I’d been
bound by sins of my fathers or learned the cost to
break free from manacles of prejudice

I love him, the world worships him, and I love the
world that upraises Mandela high, to me he’s the
Legend & Myth expected on earth; shall forever
delight in his coming to realise lost Hope of South
Africa who waited for all races to come together in
the Cape to populate Southern Africa;

They fought until Mandela paid the price required
to become a myth engaging the whole world in a
fight against a cabal of oppressors heeding only fire
or blood, but their ice-cold hearts melted in warmth
of his forgiveness offered with LOVE and integrity;
Mandela had so much love, it overflowed to

Include everyone in the world so we all bathed in
it as in the warmth of the sun; he understood his
suppressors had been persecuted to the brink of
extinction - feared annihilation; he promised them
survival then redeemed the past with a love that
prevented war and destruction

So leave my Mythical, Biblical Mandela alone, in
peace, nothing anyone says can lessen the glow
of his love - the magic of his wondrous integrity

[Monday 9 December 2013]


-------------------------------------------------------
[1]

To me Mandela is a prophet who brought us out
of slavery into the promised land of equality and
the joy THIS brings ME can never be tarnished,
he set me free before I knew I was bound by the
sins of my fathers and what the cost would be to
break free from the manacles of prejudice

I love Mandela and the world worships him, there-
fore I love the world that raises Mandela up high –
to me Mandela is the Legend and Myth expected on
earth; I shall forever delight in his coming to set free
the lost Hope of South Africa who waited for all the
races to come together in the Cape

And populate Southern Africa; they fought each other
until Mandela paid the price required to become a myth
that could engage the whole world in the fight against a
group of oppressors who only heeded fire and blood, but
their ice-cold hearts melted in the warmth of his forgive-
ness offered with LOVE and integrity

Mandela had so much love, it overflowed to include every-
one in the world so the whole world bathed in his love as in
the warmth of the sun; he understood that his suppressors
had been persecuted to the brink of extinction and feared
annihilation; he promised them survival then redeemed
the past with a love that prevented war and destruction

Leave my Mythical, Biblical Mandela alone, nothing
anyone says can lessen the glow of his love nor the
magic of his wondrous integrity

[Monday 9 December 2013]

Our Own Anarchy

Finally, in retrospect, the Anglo-Boer war takes on a
deeper meaning, it used to seem like an economic war
between two white cultures fought out of avarice and
greed: the strongest nation at the time, Britain, tried to
extinguish the Dutch nation here through the scorched
earth policy as we rebelled against British occupation

But Madiba studied Afrikaner history and realised that
war against us would result in the death of our women
and children again - because our nation is determined
to sacrifice everything for the right to govern ourselves
and both sides would suffer too much; destroying our
lovely country - Madiba dreamed of reconciliation

So right there on Robben Island he applied his insight
and won the respect of his wardens, educated his fellow
prisoners; seeing his vision of reconciliation so clearly
that he influenced everybody through his presence when
negotiating a new constitution for our country; conferring
freedom on everybody, irrespective of race and colour

Mandela spoke perfect Afrikaans and hailed the excellence
we brought to the fold by keeping the Springbok emblem
and engaging Zelda LaGrange as his personal assistant,
saying Afrikaners had to be freed from racial segregation
so as to free the whole nation – and he did free us; charmed
the serving President and the whole nation

Without the Anglo-Boer War we might have faced a full-
scale war in South Africa because our mettle would not have
been tested and nothing would have deterred the ANC to start
an armed war thinking we were simply oppressors – as it is –
he knew we were used to fighting for our freedom because
our forbears had been oppressed in Europe

And in the Cape, then in the new province called Transvaal –
our history spoke of fighting against all the odds to be free –
therefore Madiba could address our fear of subjection, knowing
we were the inheritors of the 80-year war of Spain against the
Netherlands - as well as the religious persecution of believers
in France through the Edict of Nantes

We have nowhere to go unlike other Europeans-in-Africa with
a homeland; we speak a new language called Afrikaans which
is a far cry from the original Dutch, we even have a 100-year
old literature - we cannot return to a fatherland  - when war
breaks out amongst Black tribes, we cannot leave

We have nowhere to go so we stay and fight for the progress
of our country and the life of our people among the black
tribes of Africa – amongst whom I found so much joie de
vivre, I willingly trade stiff upper-lip Western boredom
for our own form of anarchy…

Myth Of Cynicism

The wind is disturbed, the sea madly advancing,
a whirlwind creating waves ruffling their crests
the forces of nature are paying their respects for
the loss of the land, of a saint, a man above men,
Mandela, the prisoner who forgave everyone
who incarcerated him

The wind creates havoc everywhere, chasing us
inside to stare and wonder at this show of such
immense perturbation - of strange events, and I
think it is all caused by the loss of the soul, the
greatest of all – Mandela, our first President, the
prisoner from Robben Island

The freedom fighter who knew when to give up
and bring the universe to its knees with his sweet
humility - the wind and sea are thundering their
praise for Nelson Mandela – the father of our
nation, the leader of our age and the man who
destroyed the myth of cynicism forever!

[Saturday 7 December 2013]

Honouring Those Who Persecuted Him (Revised)

Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison paying for the
right to be spokesman for Africans oppressed under the
policies practiced by Europeans living in Southern Africa;
he made the supreme short-term sacrifice for long-term
results - sacrificing a hedonistic life for a world in which
equality is acknowledged by every player on the board

He set a quintessential example - changing the world by
changing yourself, choosing persecution and prison - an
irrational choice when he could have had peace; chose
to set aside vengeance and anger - totally irrational, no
dignity satisfied, no feud settled, no dispute laid aside -
terrible, deplorable - acceptance of the inexorable

So the whole world was won, prejudices overcome; yet in
South African political circles his legacy is trampled by the
President following in his footsteps using public office to
enrich himself - paying homage to examples of European
monarchy; still, the reconciliation brought about by Nelson
Mandela, our nation’s Madiba saved a country from burning

Saved Africans from reverting to savagery; kept South Africa
from becoming a second Zimbabwe - the former Rhodesia
who revered a Mugabe as saviour, killing people on street and
reaping despair at his hands - while South Africa rejoiced in
the forgiveness of a Nelson Mandela and tries to live up to
his superhuman example of unconditionally honouring

Those who mercilessly persecuted him…

6 December 2013

Alive Again! (Revised)

Tiaan is back, everything intact after a raging rave and many
mistakes – the taxi was late, friends denied entry to a perfect
place, well, it seemed perfect at the time, girls turned away –
the boys hunted in packs – and now he’s back, went down to

the beach with me like Nici yesterday, but with Tiaan it turned
into a feast of witty remarks and commentary, he froze while I
jumped about in surf - conquering a few big wave-breaks over
me – felt like a ride on a steam train right into the bubbles

Then he played beach ball with a friend Nici made, the happy
noise of the boys changing our quiet place into a party night –
I’m so happy, Tiaan is back, all had to wait until now – this is
when it is happening for me, I’m alive again!

Until When (Revised)

Tiaan at The Rave, Nici off with friends, it’s just us two, the sea
the sky and sometimes the sun but not now as it’s dark - quiet
just as you like it with no-one around, no-one to talk to except
the odd cashier at the shops, no drama or intrigue other than
your own

You expect people to respect your intricate intrigue while you
scrupulously respect their right to privacy; the most amazing
thing is I have no feelings left - so maybe swimming in the sea
damaged either my brain’s left or right lobe, I feel nothing like
Phineas Gage after an iron rod penetrated his brain

He lost ability to set priorities and thus lost his job, family and
life - all I know is I’m growing much more careful in the sea, not
allowing waves to roll me head over heels, curling up into a ball
when the wave is too big, I’m curling up now to stay in my shell
until… when…