As men who died like heroes of a life of quite misery and
Terrors enforced by compulsive usurpers of might,
A joke was envied by many daring fate,
Pronouncing life as duty won
All infallibly and blindly vain,
Wedding death in a bed of echoes
Here with complicated impulses,
Beloved stores of un-judged sins
Lingered in corridors asking for names erased with faceless graves
Those added unto piles and dunes of earth’s entrails,
Divorced from rock
And people mourning that morning
Of an agreeable crime smeared in death
***
Eyes shut to barking and shrill sirens
Summoning rage and delirium,
To glistening bodies of bloodied comrades…
Hostile lords wrestling with their conscience and nonchalance
Sipped dementia from cupped hands of slain workers
Without fear of God or man
Followed by lawmen
Sauntering leisurely among drifting dusts
Those other men were seen as suspicious game in an artful way
In this art of unstable sight and profit,
Where flatlands before the rise become a wave -
An ocean of souls in disarray,
Glossed by diabolical elements and
Facts beseeching their cries
Inquisitive like those of their newborn’s eyes
Who bore the asylum of hostel dwelling with a nagging dream
***
Loved ones watched and told of more primitive gunslingers
Who popped holes deceiving like ulcers
Bitten by mites and silicosis,
On that ecclesiastical day of unrest ended with souls marred
For their un-budging aims for better party and semblances of life
It was with blankets and coats
In broken stitches of camouflage inadequate
Among shrubs and trees in thorough insanity of heat waves and bullets
A twinkling moment
When scarcely a dozen armed in uniformity
Fired live ammunition unto lives lived as incapable fruit of broken trees
***
It was then, like now, as we scale ruins that we found buried bones
From centuries saddled with tyranny, with no impasse nor victories
But the enslaved, tainted with a reality of complicity of raping their mother
Disgraced as fools in a paradise that despises us the trusting recipients of pain
***
On that fateful day
Glints of sweat were as eyes that gleamed in recognition of death and
A thousand recounted massacres played out like mirages
In a heat wave that rose with dust and gravel
War-men glancing at clocks ticking a countdown
To those blemished moments of terror conducted with candour
With indignant manners of beasts scanning the horizon
Souls tamed as problematic were dealt a blow with sputtering of rapid fire
Immortal souls slain for an exchange between fathers
And their born slave sons nurturing dreams of dark shafts and bold rock
Yet, all in a brief moment of pandemonium about the dying and resuscitated
To view their departure for seven minutes in a world seeming phantom
Marikana became a death-zone and deadest creation of cruelty
That craved punishment and varnished coffins
For all bodies mauled in an absence of grandiose tombs and rewards
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