Portal for Writers and Poets in South Africa
I look to the Sky.
As the blood rain falls.
And washes over me.
On my knees,
Hands raised in screaming question.
I look to the Sky.
Begging for answers.
On deaf ears fall my plea.
With gut wrenching,soul devouring sobs.
My shoulders slump in defeat.
I look to the Sky.
Finally understanding why he cannot speak.
The rain of blood is tears.
When he looks down upon me.
The God of creation weeps.
Love Seeker,
Seek no more
As seeking hearts give off a scary roar
The more you look,
the less you find.
And waiting for Mr Right will drive you out of your mind.
Lonely hearts have pride too,
they run when on demand
cause “love me” from some-one you cannot command
So hush your cries,
it will only make you weaker.
Keep strong my precious little Love Seeker.
1
I wandered the plaster path to nowhere
As always,
Counting the bricks of days,
Tracing my finger along the indent
Between them where the cement is lain.
How secure!
What a foundation!
‘The basest of bases’
I thought to myself as I
Counted the bricks of days
As always…
One two three four five six seven
And thought of that number
That made me ponder heaven
So I raised my eyes
To find
I had forgotten about the roof.
2
The cage growing
The house metastasize metastasize
The earth becomes a house and all grows
But me
…As the roof stretches across the sky
Blocking the stars
And the sun.
3
Brick by brick, I die
Moment to moment, I lie
Stagnate.
Waiting for my bed to finally
Swallow me.
Window to window, I try.
Brick by brick, I die
As all goes by.
And the house metastasize metastasize.
The roof stretches across the sky
Blocking God.
The refrigerator feeds
On me, feeds on me
And I forget why
There are windows while I am blind.
The house live,
I die.
Sitting still and eyeing the fireplace
While the roof stretches across
The entire goddamn sky.
What is it that offends you so?
Is it the genuine smile on sight that scorns your eyes.
The warmth of my embrace that scorches your skin.
The enthusiastic enquiries that grates your mind.
The happy tunes hummed from my lips that screeches in your ear.
The gum i chew that pops your mood.
The job i do that fills my curious hours with satisfaction that drains yours.
My passion for dancing that fills my energetic hours with satisfaction that drains yours.
The comfort I enjoy from knowing my own self that robs you of the same pleasure.
The love i wear for Love,Life and Lord that fails your fashion taste.
Or is it simply me?
Screeching wheels,
My life flashes before my eyes
I’m so close to the end I always perceived far.
My breaths get deeper and futher apart
The enemy whose face could has never been described is laughing before me,
His face is the last you’ll ever see.
I lay lifeless
I lay breathless
Ready to give back what had been lent to me,
Then he intervened
Silently yet so powerfull
I could never see his face but his presence I felt
Why I was spared I still wonder.
legs i’ve lost, pain i forgot.
Arms i’ve lost, pain i forgot.
A piece of my heart ive lost, pain I remember well.
Pain that digs deep.
Pain that feels like yesterday is everyday.
Pain thats boils pain.
Pain that builds more pain.
Pain I cherish.
Pain I appreciate.
Pain I grow ontop of.
Pain that is painless in time,
in time of the calling.
The calling of peace.
The piece of my heart.
The one I lost.
The one I searched far for.
The piece that brings peace in my pain.
Dead.
Dead to me.
Is the concept of compassion.
And yet here you stand before me.
Your soul laid bare,
Your dignity gone.
Your pride,
A bitter pill to swallow.
You stand here and speak to me of truth.
Your eyes betray your words.
You stand here and speak to me of patience,
Your nervous twitching betrays your haste.
You stand here and ask for my counsel,
Your heart will never listen.
Your mind will only hear,
What you want to believe.
Turn around,
Walk out my door.
Walk out my life.
I have nothing for you.
The Royal Court runs long-term play development projects in many different countries, helping to stimulate new writing and bringing many of these writers and plays to London for further work and sometimes productions. At any one time, the International Department will be working with dozens of playwrights through specific projects. Long-term play development relationships now exist through projects and exchanges with writers from Columbia, Brazil, Cuba, France, Germany, India, Mexico, Uganda, Nigeria, Syria and many more. The British Council has been a key collaborator and supporter of many of the Royal Court International programmes and is delighted to be in a position to extend this work to playwrights from South Africa and Zimbabwe.
Phase One – Elyse Dodgson, Head of International Department, Royal Court will travel to South Africa where the workshop will take place, accompanied by two workshop leaders to conduct a 7 day workshop for a total of 12 Zimbabwean participants. The aim of the workshop is to support each individual participant in writing a new contemporary play. The workshop will be designed for the needs of each writer, explore individual interests, and in the end each writer will be asked to propose an outline of a new idea for a contemporary and original play. The first draft of this play will be submitted three months after the end of the first workshop. The workshop will consist of group and individual sessions and there will also be time for writing.
Phase Two – Once these plays are received, they are read (in their original language by one of our readers/translators if appropriate), who will then make recommendations on how or whether to proceed with each play. The team, predominantly the same (but we try to include a director if possible), travel out to work on the plays individually with the writers and do more group work exploring some common problems. Sometimes at this stage actors are used and workshops and readings done of the plays. This again will last about a week. At the end of this phase, the writers are asked to work on a next draft.
Phase Three – The new drafts are again read, assessed and translated before the team returns for the final phase of development work. This can sometimes involve public rehearsed readings in the countries, either of extracts or of whole plays as well as individual meetings with each writer. Sometimes at this phase we attach the writers to local directors who will help to facilitate the development of the plays. The first three phases usually last between 18 months and two years.
WHAT WE WILL PROVIDE
THE SPACE & ACCOMODATION & CATERING
The workshop will take place at Mokoya Lodge www.mokoya.co.za South Africa. Accommodation, food and workshop spaces will be provided.
LOGISTICAL SUPPORT
The British Council office in Harare will book and pay your travel as well as pay for visas to get you out to South Africa for the workshop. Please be aware that you will be required to have a valid passport in order to attend the workshop. The British Council will not be in a position to help pay for any costs related to obtaining your passport.
THE TIMELINE
8 March 2013 – disseminate open call
19 April 2013 – application deadline
10 May 2013 – announce participants
26th June 2013 – Fly to Johannesburg, South Africa
27th June – 5th July 2013 – Workshops
6th July – departure from South Africa
There will also be further activities as described in the 3 phases above, by applying you are committing yourself to being involved in the project for up to two years.
http://eliotmoleba.com/2013/04/04/royal-court-call-for-playwrights-zimbabwe/
I see a scene
Of thousand dreams
Of shattered skies,
dead butterflies.
Broken glass is drawing blood
on feet stained by years of mud
Faces stained red by tears
Eyes go dark, veiled by tears.
Hearts will clench in iron fists
Swallowed by the blackened mists
Dreams will live and dreams will die
In this deathly lullaby.
When you pass me on your way to work
When you stare at me with disgust
When you look away with shame
Please remember that:
I AM STILL HUMAN!
Ignoring my existance won’t extinguish me
Spitting on me won’t make me disappear
Turning a blind eye won’t vanish me
Please remember that:
I AM STILL HUMAN!
When I bow to you begging for a penny
When I give out my dirty hand unto you
When I gaze at you with innocent eyes
And when I smile at you with yellow teeth and a bad breath
Please remember that:
I AM STILL HUMAN!
Sleeping on cold concrete street floors
doesn’t make me less of a human
Eating out of gabbage bins and dumping sites
doesn’t make me a dog
Wearing dirty old clothes and not taking a bath
doesn’t make me a virus,bacteria,or some disease you should be scared of
Begging all day long
doesn’t make me inferior to you
Having no place to call home
doesn’t make me an animal
Please remember that:
I AM STILL HUMAN!
When you sleep at night
please thank and count your lucky stars
When you think that you are too fat
please think of the starving
When you don’t like the clour of your shoes
please think of walking with cracked heels on a winter day
Please remember that:
I AM STILL HUMAN!
For I have a heart that pumps blood through my veins
For I have feelings of love and pain,like when you spit on me
For I still have hope for a brighter day:
that oneday you would look past my
unhygiene,my begging,my starving,my stinking scent,my poverty
That you would one day look into my eyes
and see the grace that I have;that I am a nice person and well mannered
that you would listen to me and hear my hopes and dreams alongside
my passion and ambition
that you would listen to my heartbeat and feel the love I have inside of me
and that you would give my hand a helping hand
and not ignore me but encourage me to reach my goals
by teaching me how to fish
by remembering that I am God’s image
by remembering that humanity is lost when we stop fighting for one another
And most importantly remembering that:
I AM STILL HUMAN!
