A place not called home by BL Dineo

BL Dineo | March 11th, 2023 | poetry | No Comments

Poet Bio

Buzzing like a marketplace.
Incessant beeping, rolling trolleys, spinning red lights urgent from far away.
Passing white robes with magnifiers, blue gowns with barren eyes
Some glazing over wide-eyed, others with sunken eyes, others with twinkles.
Trading time, negotiating with the Master of the only certainty.

There are those wearing an array of colour clothing with a foreign scent
Joyously welcoming a new life and others praying and hoping for the Master to postpone
Even if it is only for a pinch of time.
Some visitors you can feel, raised hairs on your arms but unseen
Giving a helping or healing hand.
What a place, I must say, the hostess of the samsara.

But, for me, I am just looking for an in-and-out
With answers as I walk in, with a quick magic healing drug.
So, I can get back to being like a flamingo,
And to bite into the sweet geometry, joyously licking off the yellow liquid of life.

But most importantly, my heart yearns
To sit on my favourite spot on our plush couch,
Surrounded by my kids, and fur baby
Having pizza, laughing, and watching Netflix together.

Poet Bio

Patricia Pretorius, pen name BL Dineo, resides in Cape Town. She believes that writing is not just a creative outlet, but one of the oldest and greatest healers.

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