Days march as a tattoo
To the trombone; To the drums
Of their drama, dazzle and defeat
And I wonder at the weight of
My Book of Sins
I am only but a pair of feet
Acts of commission; acts of omission
Of a Constitution in selective retreat
Long reads
Like writing lines in detention
Punctuated by blotches held by stained hands
Lost in the pile
I am only but a pair of feet
So reads the logic of every leader of every State
As acts of commission; acts of omission
Grow and coalesce
Into blood stains and screams
Into blood stains and screams
Blotches of the armies
Of the pairs of feet
The People shall govern
In acts of commission; acts of omission
Reality defined
By the pairs of feet
Aaishah Mayet hails from the City of Gold, Johannesburg, South Africa. She works in the Healthcare sector which, for her, has bridged the frontiers of our shared human experience. As a self-confessed bibliophile of many years, literature remains her teacher and her sanctuary. Her works include Haiku published in the Lotosblute, as well as works published by Agbowo, Praxis, Poetry Potion, Active Muse, the Brittle Paper, The Lote Tree Press, the International Human Rights Arts Festival and Amaliah.