#moneypowersex: the blog

the online interactive zone that provides a space for the free-flow of words, images, thoughts, discussions, and ideas around the OpenForum 2012 theme, 'money, power, sex: the paradox of unequal growth.'

Download Programme
Posts tagged "Robben Island"

Water boils


Black rage


African veins

Open boat

The endless waves

A desert          a prison

In themselves

Coastline shrinks

You stare unblinking

Through bruised and swollen eyes

Drink it in

As salt water

Slaps your face

Like the South African police

When they broke

Into your house

Arrested you

Beat you

In front of your children

Blood stains

Where they play

Coastline hazy

As mist

faces seen through tears

You struggle

With everything inside you

To cling to shore

Like you struggle

to cling to hope

The lingering taste of escape

Slapped out of your mouth

At you gape at the nothingness

That is everything

The ocean consumes Capetown

Sharks following

The wake of blood

Behind slave ships

Tears sweat blood sea water

Sting and bite

Your broken lips

Who can cross these waters

To reach you

Reach into cells

Mangy as street dogs?

They have turned

Even the sea

Against us

One last look

But home






The island

A mutation

A prison

Built over a leper graveyard

Even the trees grow


A symptom

Of the disease


Your ancestors’ land

Now your tomb

Your own arm

Turned against you as a weapon

Comrades who turn


Under the weight of torture

Guard towers

Menace the beach

This island

Is always watching

No visiting hours

No commissary

No yard time furlough family visits

Transfers possibility of early parole

Just hay pallets on cold freezing ground

Stripped of clothing              not dignity

Cells smaller than the kennels guards keep

            Guards who bite more brutally than the dogs

Crushing work in the lime quarry

Food unable to sustain life

Letters that never arrive

Voices that scream                never heard

Just damaged vocal chords no longer capable of speech

Decimated eyes no longer capable of tears

Faces so swollen parents no longer recognize children

They will do their absolute best

To crush you

Boot to bone

To break you

            Skin burst open

            Like budding flowers

To erase you

            Your history slaughtered by foreign tongue

You know

all of this

You know

they will try their absolute best

You know

they will not succeed