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The Caversham Press

- An Archive of Our Prints -
  • Home
  • Artists A-L
    • Deborah Bell
    • Garth Erasmus
    • Bronwen Findlay
    • Robert Hodgins
    • William Kentridge
  • Artists M-Z
    • Colbert Mashile
    • Gabisile Nkosi
    • Andrew Verster
    • Sthembiso Sibisi
  • Curated Exhibitions
    • Art Meets Science
    • Spirit of Our Stories
    • Baggage
    • Hourglass Project: A Women's Vision
    • Happy 70th Birthday Verster Portfolio
    • Decade of Young Artists
    • FNB portfolio
    • Hogarth in Johannesburg Portfolio
    • Little Morals Portfolio
    • Ubu Portfolio
    • New Page
  • About
    • What we do
    • Where it all started
  • All The Other Stuff
    • Friends of Caversham
    • Links
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  • Contact
Walker, A.  Rwandan Refugees , 2001

Walker, A. Rwandan Refugees, 2001

Displaced

September 27, 2013

What is so black -

The people or the night

With border bleeding

Fight or flight...

Rushing forth from rut and hollow

On displaced waves, endless masses ride

36 million human lives treading dirt

In oceans without water

Too much chatter, skimming surface-

Worn tires like people, seize upon the shallow

While lexicons cannot decipher

That which makes us -

Insider, Outsider, Strange

Smells, washed and unwashed, everywhere

Flesh barrels bone towards relief or slaughter

M-16, TB cough, collective breath

Threads unravel like people, disconnecting

Until a voice, rich and simple:

‘Please, please, go ahead…’

A man, strong and trembling, holding out

Nuts, spicy sprigs, manna bits from mobile markets

Wrapped tight, unlike the bodies, strewn and scattered

‘No,’ I hesitate - ‘but thank you, still…’

What is so dark -

The futility or the persistence

Arrogance or grace

Both masticating

Too much thought, silences none can alter

No such thing here as chew and swallow

Scales of weight and cups of measure

That which makes us -

Weak, Noble, Strange

Tastes, advancing and retreating, to nowhere

Human heart changing what it does not color

Good, evil, individual action

Kindness, an explosion unstained by rocket fire

Wrapped in wrinkled meaning

Like precious parchment, old and tattered

He walks lines ignorance won’t dare travel

Between us and them, his and mine –

‘Share this with me’ - desperate words - ‘or we both will suffer.’

What is so threatening -

The darkness or the light

He and I, soul and dust

Humanity bound in lifting shadow.

 

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