Summer's heatwaves stir up the runway
As the sun-bright nose lowers towards ground
Metallic wings gleam, and flex against the sky
A smooth, running landing, on sun-baked concrete
Beyond corridor-extensions and customs
A sea of humanity heaves and groans
Turbans, white robes, and Reeboks
The floor is littered with weary travellers
As beams of sunlight shine against
Smooth, newly-polished floors
There's the Carribean and there's Kuala Lumpur
There's Saigon and the beaches of Mauritius
Or, if you prefer, the wild savannahs of Zimbabwe
All of them a flight's distance away, if you pay
A building of concrete and glass on the edges
Of a great, heaving, smoky city: where trains
Of cars cruise steadily on silver, snake-like roads
And disappear into the wall-locked houses
With alarm systems, barbed wire and guards
And just beyond, beside the motorway
It's a homely little place, in a way
But to the Western eye, a jumble of shacks
Pieces of corrugated iron, unceremoniously stacked
Pressed together to form some kind of living-space
To give (the illusion) of some kind of privacy
If such a thing even exists in this place
And during the night, when the jackels howl
The street-lights on the motorway illuminate the sky
And a hazy-pink hue hangs over the township
(Reports say, even, that pink-eye is common here)
The air is always dusty, as is the ground
And the children have no shoes
When the morning comes the township is quiet
But the city heaves itself and begins to groan
The cars, flashes of light, move along the concrete
Towards that building of glass and concrete
And as another summer's day shimmers
Heatwaves dance off the runway's surface
Those great, metal birds of the sky
Hoist themselves up into the blue firmament
Against fluffy-white clouds, out into the world
And leave the rest of them behind
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Thanks everyone for the replies.
Beautiful Suicide, I used to live there until I was ten. I'm not really trying to point out the poverty that exists, the poem is just describing my memories of those times.
but again thanks for the replies everyone
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I go to Johannesburg International quite often - will be there next week again. A very descriptive poem with some great images of "Egoli". I think you've done well to paint the many faces of South Africa, its contrasts and all it's colours.
And it's heatwaves here in Mossel Bay too, lol! Good to read something South African!
~ Nicolette
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Are you from south africa??? This is a great poem, though most of the time people exaggerate about the situations in S.A. I am not denying that there is poverty, but we're not THAT far behind esp after this whole crash in the economic system -bush ! -cough cough- anyhow, enough nagging. Great poem, great imagery and well done. You even made me feel sympathy for these people.
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I have always found it amazing the way things change as you go from one section of a city to another. I think this is a much starker situation in Africa and South America than in many other places.
Great job.
Mike
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