Nah, he's guilty. Jurors looked past wealth, past fame and past celebrity. Proud of their work and ourselves.
No one is above the law.
red-bellied turtle
add the tomatoes
No one is above the law.
red-bellied turtle
add the tomatoes
 Firefly, firefly my elusive neighbour;
Where did you spend the winter? Where is your abode domiciled? Active at night, what d’you do at day? And, where else do you fly at? Firefly, firefly my mysterious neighbour; Tell me; why & whom do you blink for? Say you have a fuelling station yonder. When do you go for refuelling or recharging? And, when is your lights-off? Firefly, firefly my extraordinary neighbour; I finally came with your compliments. Among luminescent, you’re just humble; Your soundless flights are the friendlier; And, you are a wonder: magical yet harmless! Danielle powdered her pale cheeks
and forehead, both as soft as tennis ball fluff, while she gazed into a looking glass heirloom. Cautiously, her mother’s face and niece’s profile emerged from polished metal shadows yet Danielle kept intimate awakenings to herself and avoided verbal comparisons that other people might pretentiously identify and critique as literary clichés rather than personal epiphanies. Harkening back to drawing rooms and deathbed mirrors that capture souls most progeny appreciate, a mother’s reflection gave Danielle enduring counsel. The May light has faded,
she hears the birds sing, trees have lost their colour now becoming sinister, their branches swaying in the spring breeze. She stares at the city below illuminated with urban lights, each house with its own little dramas perhaps worthy of Shakespeare's pen. The indifferent moon is full, a cat strolls down the street and there's a shiver in her soul for she is alone with just her fear as darkness deepens...the night cold and clear. The crux of the matter
most everywhere is you’re rich or you’re broke, you’re white or you’re dark. In Palestine it is you’re armed or you’re harmed. She stares into the meandering river
painted azure by the summer sky. It seems to sparkle with a myriad of gems as she remembers days gone by wishing times had never changed for although everything appears serene it really is just a tragic scene sewage contaminating the water and all the swimmers have disappeared. She recalls their names and laughter wiping away a stray tear viewing ghosts in the tranquil river, wild swimmers for a while without a care now in her soul...there is only despair. From the shade of an old plane tree I watch
Negotiations; harsh and loud At first, then softer as the crowd Disperses in the noonday sun Disburdened, hands are lightly run Down bony withers; lesions ooze. Thirst slaked, he shakes his scabby head Drips water on his saviour's shoes. A chicken scuttles as he’s led Across the dusty village square To comfort and a clean straw bed And just before he’s loaded on The two of them are standing there Together, bowed, relieved Work done They gawk and gape at each of your heirs,
forming a cue with their long line of stares. “Goodness! Are all of them hers?” Like birds on a wire, they twitter in pairs. “How do you do it?” they gush and say, not really wanting to hear the way, nor caring that in the night you spread fantasy wings and take flight To exotic beaches and sun-kissed sands, still recovering your dish-soaped hands. Leaving behind the painted shell dressed up in heels and glossy hair gel. Your friends go out to dine and chat but you decline, no money for that. You’re in it for life, give or take a year. Just smile and nod, that’s all they want to hear.  (Image: Toni Verkruysse) His own eyes follow him to the podium,
faint remorse in heart is muted by feat of glory, easy is the lesson learnt when it can’t fail, spraying bullets in combat and hurling grenades, champion if vanquish, martyr if vanquished, a soldier can do no wrong. Years later victory fades and the accolades flake off, the heart remembers when the mind grows dim, or worse, it all replays through disparate lenses, and when the past comes calling it becomes the present, now and forever you are a killer. We never finished the song
but I remember lyrics on a sheet which seemed so beautiful yet they remained incomplete. Suddenly it was all over, she disappeared like a cloud, I searched for her in vain amongst an indifferent crowd. No, we never finished the song, I was so much younger then and I know this poetic couple will not write together again. |
PoetryThis is the section where fiction prose becomes something else. We still expect the poems to be short, though – sonnets, perhaps, or around that length at the very most. Please feel free to comment (nicely!) on any poems – writers appreciate it.
Just at the moment, though, we're moderating some of them so there might be a slight delat before they appear. 
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