"Perhaps love is the process of my leading you gently back to yourself. Not whom I want you to be, but to who you are." Antoine de Saint Exupery
I scored a hardcover collection of Ted Hughes’ poetry cheap cheap last night. While bonding with the pages I came across this: To be a Girl’s Diary Crumblings, glanced into By strange smiles, in a saleroom, Where the dust is of eyes and hearts, in proportion, As well as of old shoes, meteors, and dung … To be an heirloom spoon, blackening Among roots in a thorn-hedge, forgetful Of flavours as of tongues, Fleeting towards heavenly dispersal, Walked by spiders… Nightfall collects the stars Only in a manner of speaking. Everything is inheriting...
Read MoreLiving up to words
“Here might not be a permanent, but is there a possibility? Or does it remain a far-fetched utopia?” I haven’t felt this way since I was a wee lass getting onto a roller coaster for the very first time. I was eight, or nine, and my (still) fantastically, brilliantly, awesome friend, Fatima sat beside me. I think it was a first for both of us, the rest were better schooled in the disambiguation of the world-out-there. We were only just catching on. It was a primary school field trip to Gold Reef City, but I can recall the way I felt as if it were yesterday, a...
Read More>Touchy-Feely
> There is touch In the collision of eyes in a crowded room In the unfurling orchestra of taste on a hungry tongue In the meeting of minds in a desert of thought In the pen’s kiss of paper prodded in previous disappointment In the ear’s dance to words that deign to prove true In the fortuitous brushing of hands headed elsewhere. There is a quiet contentment There is a wild ecstasy Cradled in touch, Fumbling too quickly to feeling. It may be for the sake of that moment and that moment only, But it’s been. ...
Read More"The re-evaluation of the world cannot be indefinitely deferred." Trevor Manuel
If the things we face are greater and more important than the things we refuse to face, then at least we have begun the re-evaluation of our world. At least we have begun to learn to see and live again. But if we refuse to face any of our awkward and deepest truths, then sooner or later, we are going to have to become deaf and blind. And then, eventually, we are going to have to silence our dreams, and the dreams of others. In otherwords, we die. We die in life. (Ben Okri, 1997) Trevor Manuel raised the sin taxes once again. All ye smokers will have to cough up some 80c more for a pack...
Read More>Writing on Papyrus
> ‘Most editors are failed writers. But, then again, so are most writers.’ T S Eliot I’ve spent the past few nights, burning the midnight oil, etching my undistinguished, ordinary scrawls onto papyrus, hallowed by history and steeped in significance. I remember reading some sort of writer’s manual a while ago, not so much a self-help bible as much as a writer’s advice to wannabes, where that author cautioned that in order to call yourself a writer, you actually have to have written something, that’s all it takes, write something. To the uninhibited...
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