Archives for June 2013

Living in Bridgebottomville

Under the old bridge next to the honoured Mandela Bridge, on the way out of town, where cars, buses, taxis and motorbikes all drive fast and furious, always in a hurry to somewhere, live the people of Bridgebottomville. To proud to stay in Shanty’s, the make-shift zinc homes, they chose the underside of the old bridge to make their home. “It’s close to town”, they say, and close to food too with so many people around, their pockets always ripe for the picking, their hearts to soft for a beggar child and its mother.

With only one street, Jacob Zuma Street, named after their beloved President, the 25 community members live in 4 abandoned, run-down used to be factory shops, sharing 1 Tap and 2 toilets. Everything for them is in walking distance.

The Zunga’s live in the green one room used to be Bunny-chow shop. They are father George, a factory worker, mothers Thandie and Suzan, their four small children all under the age of 6 and Sizwe, 12 years old whose mother died years back, who’s going to be a doctor and cure all the people with AIDS. With only two beds and 2 mattresses, and affordable plastic bowls and cups, everything is shared. Mr Zunga refuses to be a beggar and dreams of one day owing a house in Sandton with a big garden.

The blue used to be Game shop houses Gogo Nono and her 3 daughters, all pregnant with 6 children between them already. A widow for 15 years now, her husband having died of TB, Gogo prays daily for her children, while selling fruit at the taxi rank to feed the little ones. Her girls get child support but she knows they all have AIDS and that one day soon she’ll have to be a new mother all over again. Nevertheless she still believes that God will save her out of this hell hole she now calls home.

The Cleva Mzwai’s are the gang members who live in the orange house and wreak fear in the hearts of all. They steak and fight, causing trouble everywhere, but with Lucas as their leader, they always stay out of jail. Their two room home houses five of them but on weekend’s women from all over can be seen and heard coming from their place.

Nice Time Shabeen is the red 3 room old butcher shop that serves as money laundering house, slash disco. Sis Lindiwe and her “husband” Chiefs Morabie, own it. During the weekends many people come and the small abode overflows with people and money exchanges many hands for many “favours”. They make most of their money with Bridgebottomville’s girls and the surrounding areas. “Poverty makes you do funny things” she says but she has no regrets at all.

Life is hard at Bridgebottomville but they survive. With Wits giving out bread every morning to the homeless and the religious centres providing lunch and supper: with the odd jobs around plus cheap schooling around for the children, they all dream of winning the Lotto and finding Prince Charming with his 1 Series. There is many more South African like them, many more people worldwide living in their own “Bridgebottomville”, and many times we fail to notice them because we’re so wrapped up in ourselves and our issues. They don’t need our pity or our stuff. They only need hope and know that someone cares and believes in them. To understand that their not lazy and that this life they didn’t plan. Things just happen. So the next time you drive over the “bridge” take a look outside for the people of Bridgebottomville.

Written by Jacqueline Friedman

The fears I have

I fear, I will not be enough for that world outside,
I will not measure up to that who they expect me to be, want me to be.
I fear the one I breathe… the one I see, will only see another.
I fear for these faults I have, these weaknesses… those flaws.
Who will cherish, who will want… those flaws I have?
I fear, for my weigh on a machine…
It says repellent, it says obese
I fear, for my length on scale…
It says unattractive, it says midget
I fear the night, how I prefer the light instead, the bright instead
Those owls and rats and bats; those foul creatures of the night.
I fear the world, will misunderstand these thoughts I have
Misinterpret these ideas I have.
I fear the world will not appreciate;
Those hours on the mirror, those rivers I sweat.
I fear I shall not attain those goals I have, those dreams I dream
My enemies will prosper, while misery and despair are paired with me
I fear they will change my parts… make me into a thing with no heart
A thing with no face… and look down on my race!
I fear the questions I have, the doubts I have
But more than ore, I fear I shall die before I live,
I fear I shall not live till I die!

A song

You’re my kaleidiscope dream
And I was praying that you and me might end up together
Baby, I’ve loved you for a thousand years, and I’ll love you for a thousand more
You’ve got me twisted

Even though my sex is on fire,
and I’d be the best he ever had,
he’s even locking himself outta heaven
And for him, I’d bleed myself dry, and even wear no make up today.
I’d even tell him he’s right when he’s wrong, and show him he’s so much better than he’s knows.

At one point, I was thinking, its us against the world
That only you can get it
And I was gonna cater to you
Oh and how I said I just gotta have you, and all I really want is you
You had me walking on the moon

But all I keep getting is such sweet nothings
And I’m tired of dreaming of you
So right now nobody knows but me, how I’m dying inside.

By the way I tried to say I’d be there.
Let’s not waste anymore time on me, you are still the voice inside my head
But I will not see what I cannot have forever
So its time to fly these pretty wings around

Dear Lord

Dear Lord
A gift for words and questions
I hope You don’t regret,
Because I’m kneeling here and I have many for You

I am grateful, please don’t think I’m not
I know full well that I have a lot
But Lord I must I ask,
Did You not see that I really needed my Mummy?
Lord you know I’m thankful, yes I had her for a bit.
Lord did not see what he was doing to me?
Lord you know I’m humbled, you kept me alive
I still cannot believe….

Lord you’ve been there when I didn’t see
You were always company for me
You held my hand and kept me warm
But I still ask You these things,
These are things I cannot understand, they are only for You.

I have and will doubt things to come
Please don’t think I’m unworthy Lord
You tell me I’m not
For what its worth Lord
Your love is the only thing I’m sure of.

Docile Davey Delaney

“Davey, where did you get that?”

The man rubbed the wine stain profusely. His favourite shirt, completely ruined by overindulgence and assorted silliness. Muttering, he gave up. The stain would have to remain…

“My dad never locks his cabinet. Look at it, Martha…It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“David…your shirt’s a mess.” His wife was a neat freak. She had seven arms, no breasts and a monolith in her stomach. That’s how he saw her. “Ja…Ja…It was a silly accident, Jennifer…Nothing to get pissed about,” he hollered towards the kitchen. She never knew when to let something go. “Then you mess it up worse by trying to clean it. Why didn’t you just leave it for me?” He bit down hard on his teeth. “One of these days…” She came into the room. “David, I’m talking to you…”

“Davey, be careful…Please…”

He loaded the red stained, rolled-up carpet in the back of his dirty bakkie. “Have to stop by the carwash first, then go to the supermarket, then I have to get rid of the carpet…Lastly, I have to pick up the girls, can’t forget the girls…”

“Don’t be such a baby…Nothing’s gonna happen!”

He bought himself a tall strawberry-flavoured crushed ice and invoked brain freezes, whilst loading the cart with boxes of custard and yogurt cookies. He waltzed in the isles, attracting stares and sniggers masking secret admiration. Then he found what he was really looking for…He was a gap-tooth kid again, doing whatever he felt like with no fear of the consequences.

“Davey, you always get us into trouble…DAVEY, WATCH OUT!”

His favourite song, “Break my stride”, served as the soundtrack for his journey. CD on loop… The clean bakkie stopped by the side of a road overlooking a steep embankment. He wrestled the heavy carpet from the vehicle with great difficulty. He ensured that the coast was clear, before rolling it over the edge. He stood there, staring entranced as the carpet rolled to the bottom where it joined an army of other lonely junk. He felt free at last, severed from useless responsibilities…

“Martha! Martha! Please, wake up now…Open your eyes, Martha!”

The two girls sprinted towards the bakkie, competitive to the last. “Ja, good one, my girls… Linda took it!!” He laughed uproariously. “But don’t worry, Sandra…my little angel…you’ll get another chance tomorrow…” The girls giggled in stereo. “Is mommy home yet?” He stared off into the distance, suddenly distracted. “No, Sandra…Mommy’s not home yet…”

“Please Martha…Please don’t leave me…” The blood dripped from the walls and pooled on the shaggy carpet, more blood than he had ever seen before…

They arrived home at last. The girls ran into the house. Davey stayed in the bakkie. He turned up the volume on his favourite song, “The king of wishful thinking”… CD on loop…The girls screamed…

“David…Dinner’s ready… I made your favourite… Thanks for buying them those dolls; they’ve been nagging for weeks… ” Jennifer kissed him tenderly. “Ja, I found those dollies on special this morning. There were just two left, how lucky was that, babe?” She smiled. “Very lucky, Davey…” “Ja, I bought the dollies home and put them on their beds. You know, to surprise them…” She ran her hand through his gruff hair. “I’ll be there just now, babe.” His wife was his loving inspiration. She had auburn locks, flawless skin, timeless curves and a new future in her stomach. That’s how he saw her. He had fallen asleep in the dirty bakkie. He gathered himself, shaking cobwebs loose. “Count your daily blessings, Davey…” This refrain looped in his head, as he went inside…

16GB Capacity

I plugged the USB stick into my neck port.
No option to abort.
Less than 16GB to upload.
So little data.
My whole life experience,
zipped into one neat folder for convenience.
This is all I have.

The low-res pictures are of when I was born,
inserting myself into a complicated equation.
I became taller, so that I could stomp the sand.
I (drowned) swam and I (fell) flew.
I build wives and broke them down too.
The hi-res pictures are of how I aged,
like a bitter wine.
Every wrinkle, every line.

The standard definition videos are clipped fragments.
They show me laughing at despair.
The sound of my own voice,
shrill and constantly begging for choice.
I was filmed as I filmed myself,
stacked up upon the highest shelf.
The HD videos are of how I died,
like some dehydrated butterfly.
Every truth, every lie.

Miscellaneous files adorn the rest of the package.
Haphazard mp3.
At the gates and Lionel Richie…
Spreadsheets and presentations,
filled with my wisdom and cruel machinations.
BMP’s of how I painted bloody rosaries.
A reflection of all I represented in crisp binary code.

I didn’t do enough.
Just the bare minimum.
Just within the margins of a glib outline.
Just enough for me and mine.

I wish it was 16TB.

No More Hallelujah

My love for you will never fade
You locked the door; my bed I’ve made
A face in the crowd reminds me: so you
The smile at tilt; the voice that lilt
The auburn hair; the skin so fair
My tender heart skips a beat: Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your eyes held mine, a magic spell
The pain I felt was a pleasing hell
No one could e’ver compare to you
You touched my face with your hand
The time all round came to a stand
From my soul I moaned: Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Love’s tender touch now in the past
Around I’d see: Nothing e’er last
The things I did could’ve blew’ you
The cars I drove at such high speed
The fast life our friends would lead
We did not understand the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I tempted you with a bit of *snow
You didn’t at first want to know
If y’ didn’t know how I’d show you
The surreal dream showed on your face
Everything moved at a faster pace
You shouted my name: Hallelujah!

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You pulled away then from me
I was begging for you please to see
What this was doing to us; to you
All that mattered was the crave
Your life given over to a rave
You’ve shut me out in this Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your beauty faded before my eyes
The pain you caused with all your lies
I couldn’t bear to see what we did to you
Your dreams had fallen and paranoid
The reality, now null and void
A syringe, your only Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

On our true love I will always dine
To’ve turned back to another time
To happy times I loved and knew you
For bringing you into this ruin
Sorry! This was all my doin’
For me there will be no more Hallelujah.

NO MORE HALLELUJAH, © 17 January 2013 Suzette Crous

*snow: slang for cocaine

Inspired by the song HALLELUJAH copyright © Leonard Cohen

Revelation

My whole world is crushed,
I wish I wasn’t here.
I think that they’d be better off
if I could just disappear.
Please forgive me for my sins,
I have lost a part I’ve known
Why does this torment me so…
it was easier when my heart was my own.

I planned to walk out the door…
and leave all my troubles behind.
I would run from my past demons
and pray that me…they wouldn’t find.
I would forget all my built castles;
just leave them there in the sand.
I would forget how much I loved you,
and how hard you tried to understand.

I would pretend that I had the nerve
to do something so vile.
I would believe my heart was a stone
and I could do it with a smile.
I would convince myself to break my vow
and disappear without a trace.
I would show you and the world,
that I could live without your embrace.

But the truth, you see, that I have found
is that I could not be so unkind.
I would spend my life with much regret
of the life I had left behind.
You’re a part of me, and I’m a part of you-
no one could ever take your place.
We need to create our own happiness,
in our own time in space…

You are

You are my love
i pine for you
ithirst for you
my heart ache for you
as i see you walk pass from a distance
i’m longing and hence
my eyes are waterful
as my lips needs your kiss
as for you i miss
and my life is incomplete
without you i’m naked and plain
you’ve always been my help,
in all my sorrows and pain.
You covered me with care,
from all the cold and rain.

Don’t …to a woman

You’ll never know what can occur
when the clouds have gathered rain,
and the woman’s eyes are in pain.
And tea drops on the palm of her hands
and tear drops fell from her chicks.
No matter how you try to fix
all the suffering she endured.
Hey!
Do not provoke a woman.
You don’t know what goes in her mind.
As you know not where the wind blows,
or how embryos grow on her womb.
Don’t undermine a woman