Tsunami by Bernadette Richards

Bernadette Richards | October 25th, 2018 | poetry | No Comments


the Siamese triplet of hemlock and hope
sheathed in pious discourse
with obstinate fingers furled around blind spots
I’m the hiker whose paralysed heels can’t not
I’m watched over by a Sherpa whose skin is so thick he has none

I’m the screaming drunken tirade,
on the lips of a multi-scorched homeless man
Because I have appearances to keep up
Because I speak vicariously through people with more guts,
through people who are not overcome by CAPS LOCK,
through special characters who demystify black holes

I’m resignation and future acceptance
I’m the uncool, unpopular, unattractive you’ll discard first chance
I’m the uncomfortable silence when we realise our bond is broken
and the branches overshadow the fruit
and the branches loot their own fuel

I’m the root you don’t know will still rise when scarcity howls
I’m restraint that soldiers on,
while your voice of privilege and moneyed sense of power
wants to tell me what’s what
I’m resilience when it all goes to pot
I am, yes, I am
the hundred-foot tsunami that will make some of it right

Poet Bio

Bernadette Richards is from Cape Town. She is inspired by diverse forms of art and believes that creativity is one of the best forms of therapy.

Click to rate this post!
[Total: 0 Average: 0]
(Visited 83 times, 1 visits today)