Untitled poem from a South African writer in exile

Somehow we survive and tenderness, frustrated, does not wither. Investigating searchlights rake our naked unprotected contours;

over our heads the monolithic decalogue of fascist prohibition glowers and teeters for a catastrophic fall;

boots club the peeling door.

But somehow we survive severance, deprivation, loss.

Patrols uncoil along the asphalt dark hissing their menace to our lives,

most cruel, all our land is scarred with terror, rendered unlovely and unlovable; sundered are we and all our passionate surrender but somehow tenderness survives.

From ``A Simple Lust: Collected Poems of South African Jail and Exile,'' by Dennis Brutus. Heinemann Educational Books Ltd. Reprinted by permission.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK