Event: Anglo-Boer War 1899–1902—Measles epidemic in the concentration camps.
In the voice of: Sannie Botha (a survivor).
Jan’s cough kept me awake all through the night.
The children are all coughing in the night;
the fevers gave us all a mighty fright.
The red, now itchy, spots on body parts;
“Oh! Son Jan, don’t you scratch the itchy parts,
as scabs and scars will follow just like warts.”
If only I had negosiekist* at hand.
The muthi† in friend's kist – her helping hand –
but mothers dug graves with bare hands in sand.
Now I might stop to shake my balled fist.
The Tommies‡ shake their riffles in tight fists;
they're no older than Jan when they enlisted.
The torment was breaking all of our hearts
and the fragile peace brokered, never lasts.
Categories:
camps, africa, conflict, endurance,
Form: Sonnet
And then all of a sudden I was in a mysterious world,
A woman here shelling peas, for they have no rights to be wasted
Being ignored in her shop, they were two days older
She had more of the new arrivals but then she has got the power,
that to know both the peas were same inside as how they should be
I need to take her, to a faraway land, once gone
There were these captives,begging to get their pea of the day in a camp full of illusions
And those melancholic eyes would really find what grateful is, if they happen to see her
Categories:
camps, love, world war ii,
Form: Free verse
You all pray
for yourselves
ah now it matters
who, pray tell cares
about the children in camps
you empty prisons
yet fear the little children
more than any virus
moral decay
Categories:
camps, abuse, america, children, discrimination,
Form: Free verse
The Lover's Rendezvous
The wicked sense of a complete lack of control
has always led mankind down roads nobody knows
Until it unfolds
Until the Devil takes hold
Until the bodies get dumped in a hole
and the shrieking grandmothers,
whom you can never console,
clutch the little dead babies to their milkless breasts
So just confess! get it off your chest!
Peace in rest, and its all in jest
Confess! and brush the ashes from your vest
as you taxi your honey to your little lust nest
in laughter, caressed your sweet little Aryan cum-fest
as the grey snow fell, as if straight up from hell
The stench of burning flesh smell
as the guard dogs growled
and the cold wind howled
You traded a God of love
for a black leather glove
and oh yeah, lots of burning in hell
Categories:
camps, 12th grade,
Form: I do not know?
Plants in camps can be very disguised. Allowing infiltration through buds, leaves and stem. If one is having a cup of tea with a dandelion watch for remarks made. It is going to be a vast national weeding project. The directional flow from those inner places are not a marvel or a blessing. Blessings are tuned only to a blade of grass or a circle of orange. Twirling. How very naive to play with an undercurrent on open ground. Thus allowing infestation of structures in fields. Radiant radios reaching rears readily. Pointed at scenarios currently existing. Between a plate there is an embryonic ego shroud. Seek then advice from broom,wand,staffs,swords and the mythological realms of old. Who dwell in such places. Fertilisation of a fortification. Balancing act of a small intergalactic fish on a moonlit sky. And never play sports with a smell of turps omitting from words or orbs. Gathering gaining. Rain riding rivers. Bin ban. % is a biscuit frame with alot of icing sugar contained. Meteorological. Z. D y q z
Categories:
camps, age,
Form: I do not know?