Illusions

One of a dying breed -
an elegant smoker - you lean
casually against the wall
and watch the dance-floor
through the mirror.

You kiss your girlfriend
and whisper a smokescreen
of lies, while you reflect
on another woman.

Your girlfriend keeps
a voodoo doll in her purse -
savage with pinpricks.

Smoke burns her eyes.


previously published in Anon Magazine and in my pamphlet Unthinkable Skies

haiku

cold November day -
why are so many people
carrying their coats?

Haiku - Hallowe'en

country graveyard –
the spirits of the dead
gather round us.

Chichewa - the language of Malawi

Prompted by a conversation I had on Twitter, I thought I would share some of the phrases of Chichewa that I still remember twenty years after leaving Malawi.

Chichewa is the main language spoken in Malawi (along with around 11 other native languages, plus English), though as Chinyanja it is also spoken in Zambia and other parts of southern Africa, apparently it is the third largest African language in Zimbabwe. Chichewa is a Bantu language. There is a basic phrase book here.

So, here are the phrases that I most remember and am likely to still throw into conversation (!):

Zikomo - thank you, excuse me, watch out
Osoandola - don't worry
Chabwino - okay
Tikupita - let's go
Tsalani bwino - stay well
Pepani - sorry
Sindikufuna - I don't want

I don't have much opportunity to use Chichewa in Scotland (so I'm unlikely to develop my skills, despite my Chichewa book!) but I have occasionally spoken a wee bit with Malawians I've met over here and I did once get involved in a Swahili conversation because of the similarity of some words with Chichewa.

Anyone else remember bits of a language you used to speak a long time ago or from a country you lived in or visited?

Shadowy Stairs

Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh, taken earlier this year

South African Poetry at Edinburgh Book Festival

Last night I went to one of the best events I've ever attended at the Edinburgh International Book Festival featuring the South African poets Keorapetse Kgositsile and Lesego Rampolokeng. I hadn't heard of either of them before the event, but I'm always interested in discovering new poets, particularly those who probably don't visit Scotland very often.

Both poets are very politically engaged and the poems they read reflected this. Kgositsile has a much quieter style while Rampolokeng is a speed reading hip-hop poet. Both poets are unafraid to speak their mind but are such skilful poets that they can negotiate the fine line between polemic and poetry.

After they had both read they discussed the links between poetry and music and the importance of politics to their poetry. The discussion was fascinating and entertaining, moving organically from topic to topic. One minute the dangers of idolising political figures (such as Nelson Mandela) the next minute the dangers of believing what you read on the internet. The event over-ran its time as much as an event at the Book Festival can over-run and I have a feeling that both audience and poets would have been happy to have stayed for quite a bit longer.

Passing Shadow

She carries her mourning
gravely through the streets
her sombre blurred reflection
in a café picture window
mingles oddly with a laughing
hen night out.

................The bride-to-be
falls silent for a beat
as she sees her shadow pass.




Previously published on Concise Delight

When I Was A Work of Art

I try to read one novel in French every year and this was the one i chose this year. 'Lorsque j'etais une oeuvre d'art' by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt is a wonderfully strange, compelling and entertaining story about a man who becomes a work of art.

Tazio is saved from committing suicide by a mysterious benefactor who puts to him the proposition that he become a work of art. Many plastic surgery procedures later Tazio has become Adam, a public art installation, owned and controlled by his so called benefactor.

The narrative is compelling and at the same time puts forward very thought provoking discussions on issues around human identity, human rights, the concept of beauty and what is a work of art? It's also surprisingly easy to read in the original French, so I read it almost as quickly as I would have done if it were in English.

Lorsque j'etais une oeuvre d'art by Eric Emmanuel Schmitt published by Le Livre de Poche.

As far as I know this novel has been translated into English!

Paul Squires

I was shocked to hear of the death of Australian poet and blogger Paul Squires, at the age of 46 after an accidental fall. Paul blogged at Gingatao and shared some of his poetry with us on Bolts of Silk. He had a unique poetic voice and was a generous and entertaining commentator on other people's blogs. He'll be much missed.

Shadowy Sculpture

Foil by Anthony Caro in the grounds of the Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh