Don Beukes

In One’s Hand

In one’s hand

deeds could be controversial,

My existence is ambivalently universal

all intentions are inherently pure

yet beyond yesterday

have regrettably caused

apocalyptic dismay,

Millennia have passed yet

a biblical blast from the past

left scathing scars,

The power to make a stand

still lies in one’s hand,

I ably struck a brother dear in fear

overcome by jealousy

it remains my scandalous

pitiful legacy,

My self immature

erratically erupts my nature.

 

In one’s hand,

Hibernates a power grand,

With one swift calculating gesture

I may cause centuries of hate to fester

only I have the power to influence

my actions lead to humanitarian negligence,

With my finger on an atomic button

I alone can end you all of a sudden

in solar explosive light

blinding cataclysm,

I am however

guided by your wisdom,

I do admit

I have a tender touch,

My outstretched virginal hand

loving you too much

so here I am

holding your pre-marital hand,

Sweet heavenly promises

my weak nemesis,

With this ring

my love for thee confess,

A ceremony

meant to seal our

holy matrimony

yet there you are

quivering shivering,

Dreading the loss of liberty lost.

 

In one’s hand

might be locked a shameful past,

My appearance reveals secret scars

of marauding battles

burning shackles ,

Outstretched

I expose sun-kissed blisters

violet sores throbbing

from perilous persistence,

Stained with indigo ruby veins

of unspeakable pains

nothing gained,

In

one’s

hand…

 

 

The Buzz

I hope I never lose this buzz

such a welcome fuzz

like a shiny mirage

organic words in my charge,

Creative juices flowing bubbling

meandering rushing

literary sting,

It entertains

frame by frame

obstacles looming

refusal painful shame,

Critical whispers fuel

my pen sword pistons

oiling my dictionary persistence,

Curiosity creating

literary animosity

resulting in a celebratory

cultural ferocity.

This jovial

uplifting poetic buzz

now my daily

determining cross

keeping me afloat

a welcome load

adorning me in a multi-cultural

creative coat

inspired by echoes of time

creating artistic language sublime

weaving

knitting lexical knots

engineering timeless

eternal clocks.

I hope I never lose this buzz

such a necessary

never-ending crush

of ideas

quelling deep-seated

fiendish fears.

 

You See I See 
You see a new born baby

as just another mouth to feed –

I see the miracle of life continuously

reminding us of a spiritual need –

You see a misbehaved child

shrieking for attention – I see

a young soul craving for a loving

touch, not asking for much – You

see the decay in an autumnal display –

I see a necessary cycle of nature

securing a floral furture – You see the

frosted smile of a neighbour as a rude

gesture – I see a kind attempt to keep

relations content – You see a different

colour skin as a threat – I see an

inherited biased fear, fed by parental

ignorance and neglect – You see a

thorn as a natural weapon of scorn –

I see nature’s centurion protecting a

floral aromatic haven – You see

depression as a weakness – I see

a victim of abuse, a soul bruised –

You see a lion killing its prey as an

evil creature – I see a predator

following nature’s intention, inherent

instinct to feed its offspring – You see

a refugee as a menace to your

culture – I see a victim of extremism

urgently needing to flee, in a

desperate hurry – You see a beggar

as human fodder – I see a person

shunned by society’s discriminating

collar.

You see me

as a curiosity –

I see you drenched

in pitiful prejudice –

Acidic animosity.

I am Refugee

Another foreign face
just another alien place

a futile survival rat race

taking place at stellar

pitifull pace but do not

mind me – I am just in

a desperate horrific

hurry as you brand me

refugee –

Endless footage document

my failing crumbling courage

desperation fuels my

hesitation to abandon my

birthright habitation –

Circumstance limit my

human circumferance

insatiable lust for

power my hinderance –

Echoes of loved ones
I lived for once

maimed savagely shamed

their humanity callously

claimed – Culture ravenously

raptured a nation’s soul

violently fractured

extremist beast disturbingly

nurtured me its feast

devouring my very nature

a godless heinous creature –

Global coverage diarise
my demise humanitarian

disguise expose your EU

lies – Herded cleverly

channeled you pass me along

like a nationless centurion

my personal story

my passport to humanitarian

glory – A perilous journey began

with family accross land and sea

devastating heart – wrenching

loss of an infant son lost

tossed out watery grave

choking humanitarian cloud

political fallout the daily shout
I am what it is all about

fractured status sudden realisation

how much I am hated – Trump

prophesising armageddon

in the US what a shameful mess

branding me useless

what planet is this ?

My religion your chosen
confusion your hateful rhetoric

no illusion – Merkel shaming

the UN her passion humanely

driven – Cameron foolishly

debating his conscience flaking

excuse my perceived

intrusion – Your bias not your

 

intention I was just never

mentioned my background

whispered in scriptures

historical fractures –

Made to sound like leeching

maggots have you bothered

to ask what I’ve got to give ?

A talent to share
maybe a useful gift

turn your prejudiced stare

you don’t really care what

I can achieve –

No thanks remove your

untimely white flag

hankerchief and if I seem

ungrateful well that

will be my own grief –

My journey now painfully
perilous hoplessly penniless

what existence is this

what does it mean to be free ?

I ask you this –
For

I

am

refugee

 
 
Don Beukes is a retired teacher of English and Geography, originallyDon Hat Crop-2 from Cape Town South Africa and was born, raised and educated in the last two decades of Apartheid. His poetry deals with themes such as racism, death, conception, womanhood, prejudice, nature and other global issues. His poems have been published in venues such as Dissident Voice, Prachya Review, Indiana Voice Journal, Tusk Magazine, Poebita Magazine, Dead Snakes, Duane’s Poetree and Syzygy Journal