What happened at Lonmin

Comrades you have a gifted self:
A voice to articulate the profound
Inequalities that you find yourself in
The knowledge of unrest and frustration
This is your journey
But now it has become part of all of us
You are all my rich blood
My Mother’s milk

A postcard to a comrade abroad:
Have you ever wondered what a picture
Of home means like to you
It’s lovely to dream and to think
That the world is so full
Of wonder and possibilities
Rilke, Neruda and Rupert Brooke
Rimbaud and Verlaine

All the classics
Have nothing and everything to do with it
With the Marakana inquiry
And the blue pearl that is this planet
Comrades I can see the kingdom
Of your hearts and your survival
The net and the countenance of stigma
I can see it already

The romancing of the revolution
Its tour of the world is as ancient as the stars
Torn from afar between the moon
And planets and the millions of other stars
So I am writing to thank all of you
For your spiritedness mothers and fathers
For the dream machines of all sisters and brothers
Facing the landscape of decay and poverty

To the children of the revolution
I know we have all felt the need
Admired the art that lies in the comfort
Of strangers and the world they inhabit
But God holds the world and heaven
In His thumbprint of the universe
The ash and dust of an angel’s handiwork
Not to ponder that is to be a non-believer.

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