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Archives for July 2013

Ringtone Identity

Evolving possibilities
That’s the tone for Maria

This one is a firebrand
Perpetual forward motion, nothing bland
She ticks me off, but only in good ways
The frustrating challenge of a maze
defeated only by the satisfaction of overcoming it
I like her, I like her very much
Maybe more

Spirit
That’s the tone for Dominique

This one is beyond mystical
Emitting radiance, nothing prototypical
She broadens my mental horizons, in stunning ways
The head-scratching riddle
overcome only by the satisfaction of solving it
I like her, I like her very much
Maybe more

Classic phone remix
That’s the tone for Esther

This one is just there
My default girlfriend for the past five years
She puts up with me
Accepts the mood swings
Stays out of my vivid dreams
She helps me solve the problems
But she frustrates me with her ordinariness
She’s OK, yes…just OK
Maybe more

Marcus, he’s my boy by Esther
He’s about five
I’ll teach him to survive
When he grows up
He’ll be just like me
A man who knows how to stand on his own two feet
He is mine
I made him

The ringtones help me keep the arrangement organised
I have a different phone for all my official business
Everything is in line
I am in complete control
Everyone knows their place, although they don’t know about each other
As long as the different strands don’t tangle
no one needs to get hurt or bothered

A man has needs
My happiness comes in threes
A different woman for each facet of my multi-layered personality
The excitement, the mystery, the routine
All accounted for in my impeccable choices
I like it, I like it very much

Maria POV:

I met this guy three months ago
He’s just so-so
I had just ended a serious relationship
Was looking for nothing more than casual friendship
He just sorta came out of nowhere
Decent listener
Funny-ish
I call him up sometimes when I’m bored
But he tries too hard
This?
Us?
David is just a friend, nothing more

When he calls me, it’s my default ringtone…

Dominique POV:

I can’t remember
Seven months, somewhere in November
He helped me when my car broke down
We began chatting
Daniel is a nice guy
I told him about my mystical devotion
He enjoyed that very much
I call him sometimes, to hear how he’s doing
Mostly he just listens
I’d prefer if he opened up some more
In fact, I don’t really know that much about him
He’s like a notch above an acquaintance but a notch below a friend
I don’t see him in THAT way

When he calls me, it’s my default ringtone…

Esther POV:

I was very young when we met
Wasn’t even sure of who I was yet
I didn’t have experience with boyfriends
He was the first
I guess, I guess I loved him at one time
Right in the beginning
Or maybe that’s just what I thought I felt
I don’t know
I guess I’m still with him because of Marcus
My boy
I don’t want him growing up without a dad
You know?

Donny is a very quiet person
He doesn’t really tell you how he feels about anything
He has a few friends
Goes out sometimes
Gets some calls
But at least he provides for us
He is a good father
I think Marcus is the only one he really talks to
The only one he really cares about

No
I don’t want to marry him
It wouldn’t work
I don’t think we love each other enough anyway
It’s just a routine
And before you know it, five years have past
And everything is still exactly the same

Yes
I’ll focus on Marcus
I only want what’s best for him
I just wish we could love each other more
For the boy’s sake

When he calls me, the ringtone is “Take my heart away”
Johnny Clegg and Savuka
That’s my favourite song

I love Marcus
I love Maria
I love Dominique
I love Esther

I love them all and I know they all love me
I’m singing

Wait…
My phone’s ringing…

Dedication – Part 2

One track
That mind of yours
Kissing
Strangling away the hours

One thought
Paramount
Ensure your security
Feelings and love don’t count

What feelings?
What love?

The shy girl gives way to the powerful woman
You realised what you’re capable of
How can you go back, when you’ve tasted the inside of your own mouth?
There where control and confidence pools
Threatening to spill from your soft lips
Threatening to engulf those perfect nail tips
That body
You

I remember how you made me feel

Afraid
Exhilarated

You look bored
What can I do to help?

Dedicated to 14

13 Days: A poem about adoption

13 Days

She walked through the wide open double doors,
With her problem of 13 days
The problem she would now finally leave here for good.
13 days ago her shamed had been exposed,
In the back room of her Nkgono’s house,
With her mother as the midwife and lots of warm water and towels.
For 5 months she’d managed to walk without anyone knowing,
But the last four months it all became evident.
She’d laboured for 2 days unable to cry aloud.
13 days ago she’d first seen the little white, bald, Boer baby girl,
Whose skin hid Sesotho blood.
Who weighed 3.5kg and only had her brown eyes as proof,
Who gave one loud scream before gently suckling her brown breast.
Now she walked slowly to the reception desk,
Her problem wrapped in a thick pink baby blanket, wearing a blue Crawler
Her birth certificate, dummy and socks in a Shoprite Checkers packet,
Her little problem now fast asleep in a Moses basket.
She wasn’t supposed to love her because she didn’t at first
She wanted to keep her,
But white babies don’t belong with black unmarried maids,
She hung her head, ignoring the call of nurse,
Walking fast as her tears dropped and her heart broke,
13 days of love and her name was all she would be left with now.

The Veil covering the moon

She holds the basket steadily on her head,
Her moon face completely covered,
with only her eyes lighting her way,
Her long beautiful black locks,
Her straight Cleopatra nose and delicate elongated neck and prominent cheekbones,
Hidden behind a veil
meant to keep her safe, pure and sacred.
The veil that prevents her from learning anything besides the holy book,
The veil that says she cannot finish school and dream like her brothers,
The veil that forces her to get married to someone she doesn’t love and
Have children her body can no longer carry,
The veil that makes her wish she wasn’t a girl,
didn’t have breast and had the right to say no,
This veil that covers her beautiful moon face daily and can only be seen at midnight,
When she daringly takes it off and dreams

They only win once you give up

She stands on pointe, her hands in fifth position,
listening to Madam Clair count out the beats till the next step,
Seeing the other girls tiring of the strain,
Ignoring the pain in her own legs,
Fighting the voices in her head that says she’ll never amount to anything good.
That she’ll be just like her uselss mother
Words from her grandmother that she adopted herself and now had trouble letting go of.
Words she learned how to block out because of the maid, Ouma Dienkie,
Lowely in the eyes of others but filled with wisdom and love that she freely gave away,
Remembering her words…..

He sits with the pencil in his hand,
Writing in his final answers to the paper that will give him his degree,
Making sure his answers are correct,
Watching the time tick down slowly till his journey ends here,
Only to begin on a different course.
He blocks out the little boy that couldn’t read and was beaten because of it,
He blocks blocks out the dyslexia that made him stupid,
He blocks out the father that teased him and the mother that didn’t understand him,
And tries to listen to the teacher who gave him hope, books and attention,
Who taught him how to fight his disease with patience.
Remembering his words..

“They only win once you give up.”

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