Lost or Found World
Mongane Wally Serote
By Adrian Mackenzie
Skies of truth are now scenes
At the mercy of my curtain eyes,
I wink often more often,
To draw the curtains
To cut and forget the skies.
The sea of identity is tears,
A too salty expression
Bleeding my blue veins that’s my pen,
On the loose sand that shall sip,
And the wind shall help cover it,
From the needy arteries
Mountains of hope are flowers,
Passes attracting cars like bees,
For the precious modern honey,
That is money.
This modern madness
Snaps flowers from their stems
Leaves dry dead bodies, walking up the street.
Old wishes is present deeds,
Bright with blinding for old
Dark with wonder for the new,
That’s where we are
Lost or found world!
Notes on Poet:
Writes poems often about black identity
Writer from Soweto
This poem handles transition in a post-apartheid context.
Mongane Wally Serote
By Adrian Mackenzie
Skies of truth are now scenes
At the mercy of my curtain eyes,
I wink often more often,
To draw the curtains
To cut and forget the skies.
The sea of identity is tears,
A too salty expression
Bleeding my blue veins that’s my pen,
On the loose sand that shall sip,
And the wind shall help cover it,
From the needy arteries
Mountains of hope are flowers,
Passes attracting cars like bees,
For the precious modern honey,
That is money.
This modern madness
Snaps flowers from their stems
Leaves dry dead bodies, walking up the street.
Old wishes is present deeds,
Bright with blinding for old
Dark with wonder for the new,
That’s where we are
Lost or found world!
Notes on Poet:
Writes poems often about black identity
Writer from Soweto
This poem handles transition in a post-apartheid context.
