The sword of daybreak
snips the shroud
of the night from the sky,
and the morning
peeps through the blankets
like a baby rising
from its cot
to listen to the
peal of the bell.
Arise! Arise!
All Workers!
To work! To work!
You must go!
Buses rumble,
Trains rattle,
Taxis hoot.
I shuffle in the queue
with feet that patter
on the station platform,
and stumble into the coach
that squeezes me like a lemon
of all the juice of my life.
snips the shroud
of the night from the sky,
and the morning
peeps through the blankets
like a baby rising
from its cot
to listen to the
peal of the bell.
Arise! Arise!
All Workers!
To work! To work!
You must go!
Buses rumble,
Trains rattle,
Taxis hoot.
I shuffle in the queue
with feet that patter
on the station platform,
and stumble into the coach
that squeezes me like a lemon
of all the juice of my life.
8 comments:
lovely
Thanks, on behalf of Mbuyiseni.
No sooner did I fall in love with that first sentence than I just fell in love with this whole portrait of early morning life. It seems that some things, at least, are the same all over the world.
I think there's stuff we can't get around, wherever we are in the world. And BTW, that first sentence did me in, too.
Nice poem :)
I have a blog site with a "Flag counter" which collates visits from Bloggers in other countries; I am up to 185! But sadly missing Lesotho.
Please visit my site :)
http://domsweirdnews.blogspot.com
dom,
I'm a Mosotho blogging from France, where I live. So the only flag I can give you is the French one, which you have lots of already.
Best
Rethabile
Enchanting opening- simply gorgeous writing. Mtshali contrasts this in his closing so well. As alway, thank you for sharing more S. African poets.
(I'm not sure if I told you that a woman in my real life book group was born in South Africa? None of the rest of us are from there nor have we visited the country. She is a wealth of information. Upon her recommendation we read the Nonfiction Book A White Boy in Africa by Peter Goodwin. She captivates us with history, knowledge, and experience).
I love how you introduce us to other writers in addition to your own well-written poetry.
Ritual of an early morning, beginning a working day, certainly saps the creative juices. I have fought that intrusion all my life.
(At least in my mind!) But on the outside, I still perform the same rituals and secretly write poetry by night.
Gemma
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