Failed Competition

A week back I asked one fellow poet to invite members of a Facebook poetry group of which he is the administrator to a mini-competition where they were to write on the theme; Resolutions.

Once the poems were written and posted in the group, group members were to constructively criticize each other and hence vote on the best poem. The top three poems would be published on the Poetry Farm Facebook page and the best would be published on the Poetry Farm blog.

The idea was to help inculcate in poets’ minds that unless we grow a culture of constructively criticizing each other we can’t easily kiss the lips of growth, first as writers and secondly as poets.

Unfortunately or rather funny enough no one except Lebogang Scooter (the group admin) participated in that mini-competition. Maybe it was too boring for their liking or having their poems published on the afore-mentioned platform wasn’t incentive enough.

Anyway,how faithful have you been to your resolutions thus far in 2013?

That never constructively criticized shall never be mentally circumcised ” – LB

Below is a poem by Scooter on the theme; Resolutions.


Resolutions scene one; forgiveness, hope, healing

The future is subjective it’s not written in stone
the past did it’s part.

One day
these dusty barren streets
will conceive again
a womb gathering dust and cobwebs
will be wiped clean.

When invisible pillars of the sky
rest their feet
on my heavily weighed shoulders
an erect pen will scribble
back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
until it ejaculate ink
a feat of seeing hope
irrational as it is
rationalised to see worth
in a glimpse of a dust speck
just waiting to be ingested
to sprout
to thrive
to survive.

One day
some of us will purge hatred
let it sweat through our pores
we wipe our brows to dry despise
we were given
yet all was not given
we knew so much
yet we still wine and dine ignorance.

There are still fresh graves to be dug up
there are still ghosts to raise
as for now
we hold a night vigil
for the hatchet
read its orbituary
its conquests
accentuate its sharp edges.

As the night is roused from sleep
morning will come un-announced
they’ll wash each other’s weariness with dew
an aftermath of darkness
we won’t even open sluice gates of tear ducts
what is done is done
what is done need to be undone
the leaping tongues of flames will get swallowed in its
own tongues
as did the great fiery rages
of London extinguished their self
smoke shading the sky mauve.

we will find solace in desolation
call a truce
scatter ashes
bury the hatchet with its venom
with you father
i won’t even question the long absence
i’ll just appreciate your presence.

By Lebohang Kuenane (Lebogang Scooter)

:: Lyrical Bacteria 2013


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