Phases
rainstorm, thunderbolt
in the desert
umbrella promise to protect us betrayed
a flash flood washed away our treasury empty –
into capital banks of self, less of -ish democrats.
lost, disillusioned
in the forest
broom’s vow to clean up and lead us to paradise
turned messy and blood gullies trail
the paths of the delusive retro-, I mean pro- gressives.
anxious, desperate
we must awake, wait for the second or first coming
of either the rhetorician or the labourer!
Literature
In a kingdom full of textbooks
There stood a documentary brooks...
Literature
Take thy literacy from out my heart
I am sworn of my descartes
The paper bound proficiency pretesting
My encyclopedia festering
Literature
I awoke and flung the philosopher
'It's that rhetorician,' I muttered
And its eyes have all the writing
Inciting, with my handwriting
Literature
Elaborating and elaborating with my wordsmith
There stood a non-fiction writing
Still is inviting, still is inviting
This verse is so over written..Literature
This write I write who am I kidding
Something a politics professor once said
has been crashing round and round my head.
He said: "Zara. You could convince white
that it was black and black that it was white instead.
It's also been said that I struggle with reality -
that black-white; wrong-right polarity -
because I see white as blacker and black as whiter
right as wronger and wrong as righter.
So I am become a writer -
rather than a politician -
because any rhetorician
has plenty proof
that politicians tell the truth to lie
while writers lie to tell the truth.
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