Saturday, September 17, 2016

60... 80 Souls

60... 80 souls,
Corpses claimed by politicians' muses,
60... 80... servicemen, fighting the devil, in Syria.
Felled by weapons of western cherubs,
By 4 flying angelic aerial sets.

Truce, they said, truce, they bet.
60... 80... souls now lost.
Angels killed them from above their heads.
60... 80... scores of men,
They say an 'error of targeting' bombarded them dead.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Black Dog! Suicide! What is ur .. Insanity .. I ask .. ?

Poem by Marc Aupiais

Darkness! You call it! It takes you!
Again! The Black Dog!
The Bitter Omen! In your hope!

I look at you! Lying there!
Bed all messed!
Mattress out!
No! They said you had no sheets!
Just ..
The mattress!
Nothing else!
In your flat!

You taught me once!
Afrikaans!
But now you are gone ..
And they whisper how!
They said you did it!
Money or the Black Dog!

And then the garage owner!
Before you!
And that other man I knew!

And another and another!
What Is Your Insanity!
What stopped your heart?

Stopped so many hearts!

And you are the Black Dog!


It did Bark! It ought not Bark!

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Falling bombs - on Tripoli

Poem by Marc Aupiais

OH! The men of war!
OH! The handsome murderers!
How them we adore;
Parade like heroes;
These KILLERS of women and children;

Indeed; the Ape-Men of Libya;
Sent to pillage and rape;
To kill the villagers;
To throw them off the plateau;
Unto rocks and bamboo piles;

And yet;
Even then;
Were the children spared;
Women not murdered;
Babies not slaughtered;

Though ape men then;
Only warriors; not worriers killed;

And above does the falcon stream;
And below does the gunship patrol;

As again and again;
Suspicious for nationality; killed;

For America bombed Tripoli;
And Tripoli are people;
Not war-men!

As elections start to approach;

Again ... Does Nagasaki sound!

Friday, June 10, 2011

Poem of desolation

Poem by Marc Aupiais

I think of you:

Nation; death!

I think often of you,
I imagine a spark,
Or something more!
I look for weakness!

I serve Carthage against Rome!

I wait for weakness!
Opportunity to revenge!

Black steel netting,
Weaved with black deadly cobra snakes!

I wonder at our enemy!

And I hope for some weakness!
And rejoice as it hurts!

I learn of my enemy!
I wait and await!

Comeuppance!
A word!

And I wonder at my enemy!
And watch her enemies rise!
With glee!
With hope!

Though I still catch myself!
Its only now dislike!
Its only now dislike!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Ground war!

Poem by Marc Aupiais

How, you abuse, you always have!
You act as good, but bad you are!
In your crusade!
For the greater goods!

And we The BRICS!
We fight your lies!
We ask, dear why!

And if you want to save civilians!
Why bomb them in Tripoli,
And refuse any peace treaty!

And where were the planes,
Now helicopter gunships?

And what of war?
do you hide the Underground!

And fight to kill the free,
The dictatorship of false democracy?

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Death of an enemy!?

Poem by Marc Aupiais

It confounds me, my hatred!
It perplexes, me!

The joy at your death!
As I watch the end of your last breath!

Perhaps on a tv set!

And I hope,
Should the death count rise?
And the evil enemy of your people,
I cry when they die!
Because they were killing you!

And I look at you!
Propaganda people!

And I image: in my mind:
Your flag burning!
Your capital on fire!
Nuclear holocaust!

Oh! Such joy!

I wonder!
The death of an enemy!
Even of an unborn child?

Your manners, your evil ways, of death!

Surely!
I rejoice should you die?

Yet!
Though the news says I should,
And the views call you monsters!
I think of one of you,
Just of one!

And I'm glad!
I never burnt your flag!

And I was not the martyr!
The television set subtly praised!

Propaganda people!
Pitiable force for goods!

Likely you will destroy us all!
But I cannot hate!
Whatever the tv and world does slate!

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Devil's own land

Poem by Marc Aupiais

I'd been labelled.
I'd been accused,
Tried, convicted.
Neo-Liberal- the class accused.

When I defended the wizards,
And said they had human rights too.

She'd spoken of a trial,
How she watched them confess.
She never mentioned the burning,
Though we all knew it implied.

And here I was.
Driving north.
Deathly black clouds.
Mythic mists.
Death by night.

A strange feeling.
Elephants. Hyenas. At night!

And though I argued.
For their lives.
Those accused of witchcraft.
Those murdered lives.

In the Northern Country,
I wondered at the lies.

Devil's own land.
And people less civilised.
They'd kill me as easily as their witches.
I told myself,
As I hoped to drive past.

And seeing a hyena.
Right by our car.

I swear he was calling.
His mistress. It's time.

And though I left Up North,
Where the massacres still occur.

Women and their babies,
Children young and old.
Soaked in gasoline.
The child forced to set mother alight.
The child killed also,
As with possession,
With house.

The "New South Africa"
They wanted.
Where witches never survive.

I drive quietly by.
And pray I never here do
Roll fate's dice.
For here, one rolls the die.

And though I'm white,
Not black,
Man, not woman.

Not witch.
Just the God forsaken
"Little White Dog"
Enemy to be quickly shot.

Yet I wonder at our nation.
And the unaccountable lives.