Solitary Confinement 1
SOLITARY CONFINEMENT 1 : Number Four
Many chains, many locks and bars
clattered at four in the morning
black bitter coffee drugged
a single bucket of cold water
it was winter
I had ten minutes to speak
with a small piece of soap
then bucket and soap was ripped away
whether I was still
naked or not
a thought of throwing the
water over my head
tangled with a thought
of throwing it at the cell door
a tangle like a tango
unlike my taut steel
nerves
I counted my toes over
and over again, then its hairs
to stop reading prison graffiti
on the cold grey wall
they were my loyal friends
I couldn’t think of names
for them
except “Hello Toes”
A warden brought me a
wooden coloured cube
hidden in his dirty hankychief
as a gift
to play with
heedlessly grateful
was I
At four the next morning
Station Commander
confiscated it
seemed to like that hour
I remembered that Ouma Lama
said : “Four is when the ghosts leave”
In my prison cell, this was when
they arrived
~~~
Four a.m was my birth hour too
on the fourth day of middle month
I guessed four pillars to hold an
ever-crumbling roof
the roof of my mind
Casspirs circled this hour to
circumference my home for a pick-up
At the calculated dark time neighbours rose
sensed war as a moon waned
peered at rifles through
half drawn curtains
Four Casspirs, eight police-vans
too many soldiers to count
surely a multiple of four
for a forty-two kg body
a hilarious drama of fear
How did mind know it was
four in a house with no clock ?
It did not !
Gut knew the precise hour
the hour I started breathing outside the womb
~~~~
Smiley wily warden wrapped my
one daily meal in newspaper
winking “something to read…”
I read the four sheets over
and over again
marriage and death notices
Memorising dates and names on the oil
stained paper
At four the next morning
Mr Station Commander burnt the
newspaper pieces at my
numberless cell door
number should have been
four, yes, you guessed
since the station had four cells
only one boasted a body, my pipsqueak one with
four intact limbs
their threat to crack my bones
could not succeed
I was too connected to external pylons
and what with standing for 24hrs at a stretch
in the interrogation room
my bone calcium strengthened
Commander and door both
relished a smell of fire at that hour
curling smoke was breakfast
I saw marriages and corpses go
up in momentary flames
shed tears for the individuals involved
it was my marriage and my corpse
time of no sequence
small dried leaves found their way
into the cell
A mystery of How ?
no teeny slits anywhere
or any slit of sunshine to sail on
Winter leaves wanted to
shelter
lice
crawling on a dark grey blanket
over the plastic floor mattress I
tried to sleep on
or perhaps leaves wanted me
to make music
crushing their veins with my veins
a floor never swept or wept
the smell of …. dead mice
the day of a little fire at the door
I ended up screaming at a
minuscule wall grate
near the ceiling
“Bring me a fresh daisy or a mirror !”
It brought me
the next darkened police vehicle
to Caledon Square
for another session
of 24 hr questions
Unanswered
©GhairoDanielsPoetry1981
Copyright © Ghairo Daniels | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment