Archive

Flash

 

his head

like a bullet

he talks with

whippoorwill

terms
of endearing

facility

he turned a zero

to a one

and the world fell asleep

at his feet,

legend told

See the edges

of the bones

the skeletal measure?

 

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017

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This one is for You:

 

While talking to myself

I was stunned to learn

that it took

several blows to the head

to learn it took

a longtime revision

of the psychiatric

process to get the right

delusional diagnosis,

that it took three men

to hold me down

before they took me away.

It took a longtime

view to see it was

the effect of the blow

that took my wind away from

me

and that left it all

at sea, my work and I.

 

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017

It’s too far to walk,

to negotiate these avenues of ardour

back to when we first grew

our orchard of lusts

the cherries still hang

fertile and abundantly set

amid blossoms of deifying

order. We were Gods,

now we worry about std’s

and the fruit cackles

as it is cut from the tree.

 

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017

 

One day he realised he had forgotten to

get married –

He was over fifty

with no family.

He wondered who would come to his funeral

when he found out none of

his friends remembered him fondly.

He’d placed miles between them

according to the proverb

he who travels fastest travels alone

and he had left them all behind

and had come to a halt too early.

Now he had only death and a meagre

funeral ahead.

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017

THE BIG CHILL

 

 

I just bought this movie on DVD (an old favourite) and found it not nearly as funny as the first time I watched it. Still brilliant but very thought provoking. I lived in apartheid South Africa at the time of the movie’s release and it has its echoes, from university student idealism and romanticism to casualties of this war called life. So I decided to write a poem of the same title. This is MY view of the BIG CHILL:

 

 

Take a pill for the desire

another for the rentboy to collect

on time

oh time of the also ran

through the brushes with the law

I have my army call-up letter

 

in a frame on my wall

memories of life that separated

us into those who did and did not

Fear brings us close to forgetting

the useful embrace

of a mother who chooses

now to forget and reject

us. There’s not enough room

for us all on the wall chart

marked Afrika.

 

Everything seems to come from the South

these days. I stand in the moist wind

and enjoy its soothe, mixing with

my tears.

Nothing is as it seems.

 

 

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017