Beloved Country
It seemed such a natural request
On a hot dry afternoon
In a once provincial capital
Trying hard now to grow worldly, cosmo
Aware, modern, hip, could I sip
On some iced tea, please.
Of course, and furnished with some ghastly
Syrupy concoctioned cocktail
never shared the same world as tea
And even less ice in sight
Sent it back for the real thing
Which we don't know how to make.
My chance to be Jack, it's five easy pieces
A cup of ice, pot of tea, slice of lemon, spoon
Sweeten to taste, Serve and grow rich.
No need to hold anything between your knees.
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Years, and the land awash now
In the bottled counterfeit
Still can't find refreshment
In the pure simple pleasure
Of iced tea in the shade on a hot day.
The photogenic wonders of the Cape
Bested, overawed the camera's hold
Found a port to off load, but lacked the
Forgotten connection, found in the last
Shop of the day, will this serve, tried the fit,
Found it and the price most fitting.
The consummation of the deal
Called into play the technocratic wonders
POS, supply control insist
The thing Itself does not exist
Cannot then be sold
I'm looking at it, begging for the buy
We cannot sell what isn't here you must allow
The electronic truth to trump the eye
And leave now empty handed.
I lost my shirt in Cape Town
Gambling on the honesty of men unseen
Who promised to deliver that which had been
Forgotten in a taxi. Retrieved,
everyone denied holding it
Passed it on, and nevermore seen again.
The taxi driver, hearing the story
Once a courier himself, solemnly advised
-----If you hope to wear it once again
Don’t send your clothes by courier, or
mark it medical specimen, bodily fluids.
Halfway round the world
Slithering into the entombed earth
To discover humanity's cradle
With all the people searching
For novelty, insight in the land
Hidden, denied by correctness.
Groping in the dank caves and
Misty waves of forbidden pools
Edging toward the moment of truth
An image merges from the verges of
Vision, another searcher, wearing
In the fashion of the day
A shirt proclaiming home,
In the cradle of civilization
Blinded by the booster of a cafe
Bridges, not a mile from the home I left
Back on the surface
Halfway round the world.
Home means something
More than nowhere else to go
Some commitment transforms
a place, makes it your own
You have to choose
To call it beloved.
Just a lusty, wild affair
With an exotic land
All the excitement of unexpected
Tingling thrill of indecision
To flirt or consummate-
Much obliged, I'm sure-
Inseminate with words
Noncommittal, carry away
only mementos, memories
people and their places;
Leave nothing but ideas
And respect in the parting,
Still waiting for the leopard.
About this: In 1995, I was invited to a conference in Cape Town, an event that began my twenty year involvement––a lusty, wild affair with a land that remains exotic and, on occasion, madly frustrating!