day/poem 22

-- good friday --

they've come in their hundreds, hundreds and thousands

come marching, come chanting, beseeching, demanding

come streaming, come huddled, they're hurrying, calling

come from their homes, come to the townships

come from obscurity, come into focus

come from their silence, come into protest

and the response - reports left me wordless

raining down terror, spiralling death-tolls

show of life taking, sweeping, haphazard

that as your answer, that as your warning

skin flaying, feet churning, arms raised, scant shelter

bullets and shrapnel seek homes for sharp edges

ripping their way in, forcing all entry

foreign bodies, such speed, no immune, no defenses

puncture bodies that stream with no room for the outpour

bodies that slump, smashed, grabbed away life force

 

bloody ballistics, sweat mingles with life streams

boots stamp their way home, prints trailing behind them

feet stamp their way, drag their way, find a way home

home to recoup, to recover, rekindle

home to reboot, to regroup, to re-engage

and again they will come, in their hundreds and thousands

come with their voices raised in defiance

come with their chants demand retribution

come for your answers, your response is lacking

come for your answers, come to be heard