Die Kind

Die kind asem hoop

skryf sy drome op venster wasems

Lag trane 

van donker druppels in rooi riviere

Sing vals 

uit volle bors die lied van die oranje god

Met toe oe

die spook van pieter se seun in sy arms

…Hom…

Die kind van hom…
Dit is die storm in sy bloed
Die lawaai wat raas in sy siel
Bloei blomme in sy denke
Soekende arms na vrede bomme 
Ja
Die kind van Tata
Tata se kind

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The End of the Affair

How do I feel this morning?

As an immigrant I fell deeply in love with America. I saw the beauty and the promises. I loved every part I could see and got to love the flaws too. Because those flaws were what made it so unique. I loved the sweet words it whispered in my ears. I simply fell in love and knew this was it.

I woke up this morning feeling dirty. The love I felt betrayed. The words and promises empty. America cheated on me.

It will never be the same. I now know the flaws run deeper than I imagined. That those words empty.

America did not just cheat on me. It lied and abused me. It hates my family and my friends.

It will never be the same. The honeymoon is over.

But I will stay. For the kids. And try to fix this. Because I still love America. But now my eyes are wide open.

 

Christian Values

You don’t get to claim Christian values and close your house and country to those in their most desperate hour.

You don’t get to claim Christian values and love those who count their money and brags about how rich they are. 

You don’t get to claim Christian values and support those who who sexually assault women and cheated on their spouses multiple times.

You don’t get to claim Christian values and speak hatred of others who are different from you instead of washing their feet.

You don’t get to claim Christian values and believe doing everything for yourself instead of others is the essence of leadership.

You don’t get to claim Christian values and hate your neighbor instead of loving your neighbor like you love yourself.

You don’t get to claim Christian values and embrace those who spew hatred and lies believing they will represent your values.

You just don’t.

The lies Christians tell themselves and the fear they hide in their hearts during this election is despicable. Someone actually played the Christian values card with me AND said they will vote for Trump because he will have policies consistent with their values. You cannot have it both ways. You either believe in Christian values and never compromise or you don’t ever compromise those values. I will judge your beliefs because it is bullshit when you believe only when it is convenient. If you vote for Trump then simply be honest with yourself and say “I am suspending my Christian values for a few weeks to get what I want”. Don’t lie to yourself or to your god.

And to those who say “but it is not all Christians” I say bullshit. It is the loudest amongst you. It is the loudest shouting for Trump. Like when they ask for Muslims to speak out against those terrorists who claims to be Muslims – you can’t ask them to speak out but allow these “Christians” to hide their hatred and fear behind this false veneer of beliefs. Your silence is deafening.

Christian values. Is it a menu you can pick from when you want to have them? Bullshit artists.

 

I Don’t Want To Wait Anymore

I don’t want to wait anymore.

I don’t want to wait for them to be on our side.

I don’t want to wait for the change to happen.

I don’t want to wait for more people to die.

I don’t want to wait for it to get better.

How much blood must flow while I wait?

How much blood before it gets better?

How much blood before it stops?

It doesn’t get better when people die.

It doesn’t get better when it’s blow after blow.

Just make it stop.

Now.

 

Little Hands

I see little hands.

They played over the water. Once.

I see little hands. Little hands holding. Holding on. Tight. So tight.

Those little hands clinging. To a dress. A shirt. Any piece of clothing will do.

I see little hands grasping. For mom. For dad. For anything. Anyone.

Those little hands.

Little hands reaching. Up. Higher. Pushing harder. For something. For air. Just a little bit will do for little lungs.

Little hands splashing. Slapping water. Fighting water. So much water for such little hands.

Those little hands. I see those little hands.

Little hands searching. For me. For you. For us.

Those little hands.

Those cold little hands. So cold. Blue.

Gripping.

Even just my little finger would do. They are so little. Just a little bit would help. They will hold on forever if they could. Hold on to me. My little finger for those those little hands. That will do.

I see little hands.

Still.

So still.

Just quiet little hands.

I see little hands. I see little hands do nothing.

Just little hands. Still. Not moving. Ever again.

Those little immigrant hands. Those illegal little hands. Those fleeing little hands.

I hope it gets a warm hug somewhere.