Dominique Botha

I don’t want the great poet to die

the poet’s friends eat magritte paintings
while he dreams of archiving wind

swallows wet their wings on his tongue
dazed by providence

yesterday’s news is sold at a premium
to a roman exile with a small silver trumpet
a genie undoes the bridge to the mainland
a déppaneur fills his dancing card
the aga kahn pulls a thorny secret from his bare foot

they drink flowers here
bury the dead in hollow trees
everything is negotiated
even love

a goat under flamboyant shade
kicks a futile hoof white as milk
communicants in hibiscus
walk pale fathers to church

a moon decays over a decaying town

we could fix up the arched palace
a room for my piano
somewhere for him to write
seas will roll on
nights smoulder away

I want to lie with him
die with him
dry his feet with my undeserving long dark hair

doors slam shut
raptors mass over the island
flying back at the breeze

wind is  intolerant

inshallah he will go
with long steps
over the yellow mountains
carrying japanese canaries in paper bags
fishing out the drowned moon
over the equator belting the world
to his father’s house

This entry was posted in Dominique Botha

Comments

Colleen says:

Beautiful and touches the soul. xx

Natasha says:

Beautiful and inspiring!!

Seater says:

So much feeling & so much depth. Your writing is amazing!

Beezy Bailey says:

Paul Botha is laughing with the stars that shine like fireflies inside your inspired head,I am so happy to have a friend who is true poet,one in millions.you are a great artist ,you have arrived.

Dom says:

beautiful ‘shki, thank you
keep rolling on, smouldering away

sandra says:

Hierdie maak my voel dis ek wat in Goree is. Jou beelde word werklikhede. Ek verwonder my daarin.

Leonski says:

Dom, I’ve just re-read this poem, and what strikes me about it is that it reads like a Breyten poem in english. It is terrifyingly beautiful. A major new writer is busy arriving on the scene …

Jody V Ford says:

Beautifully crafted, and like ingrid says very evocative of the different senses, I can can feel everything that you have written and see everything that you say, simply sublime.

ingrid says:

Remarkably evocative thank you