16.06.1976
For Unknown 16/06/76
a frozen face
on a white wall.
open mouth
rigid arms
your eyes
are the eyes of your comrades
children
with weighted shoulders
and loud voices
muted by the captured moment.
but I hear it.
decibels of scaled anger
your suffering erupt,
holding out its arms to me.
am I worthy of embrace?
1976- not even a seeded thought
in the mind of a girl I call mother.
you are background
context to your time
framing the “struggle”
painting it with your essence
as bullets tattoo your fate.
A bricked acknowledgement
that you were felled on that day
now bedded on gravel
bordered by the crunching tourist tiptoes
echoing now-impotent jackboots
the granite speaks
of more bodies,
not nobodies
but somebodies
with names
and for others without
there is a brick
in a yard
on the gravel.
(conceptualised after a visit to the Hector Pieterson Memorial in Soweto, June 16, 2005)
See what I've pinned
the poem was so quiet. i liked it
To Hector Pieterson and all the named and nameless whose senseless deaths are not always as meaningless as they may at first seem to be.
profound