Sechaba Keketsi – THE DROUGHT -STRICKEN CAPTAIN

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THE DROUGHT -STRICKEN CAPTAIN

THIS POEM WAS PUBLISHED UNDER THE WEEKLY MAIL POETS PARADISE MALE POETS PROJECT EARLY 2009.)

Their plane was ready for departure

To lick and caress the smooth runaway

The runway woven from spontaneous agreements

The husband the captain, the wife the assistant

They repelled their plane from the ground

Long in the air, like airborne pollutants

The plane’s nose no longer moved horizontally

Dressed with a calm mind, fed by an organized conscience

The assistant attempted to neutralize his acidity

But was constantly reminded who the captain was

 

Her nose was whipped with smell of rotten communication

Yet dressed with a calm mind, plane had to be back in order

Repeatedly kissed by salty lips of poor translating skills

The captain set ablaze the handouts of advice

Inhaled the flames, then boosted his fits

For in his boardroom, suggestions and objections

Translated to an insult to his integrity

Good thing English wasn’t his major at varsity

 

His fists consumed her face repeatedly

Sucked blood from the eyes, tears from the nose

Yet her face carried no bruises or scars

He smoked the cigarette of triumph

As the blood sucked collected into a well

Evaporated into air her lungs refused to process

 

The veins of his brutal mentality enlarged

The skin of his gun grew greedier

Lethally injected the breasts of her personality

That once fed his best interests

That once strengthened the bones of his self esteem

His non-metallic gun raped her positivity

For his bullets were words

Nothing destroys as angry, brutal words!

 

Yet still the plane had to be back in order

He continued caressing the thighs of failure

As cockpit buttons fueled sparks of confusion

Traffic controllers bellowed this and that

What success was guaranteed?

He was deafened by the wall of his stubbornness

 

Filled to capacity with trash he exhaled

Fingers of her pain transformed to a lion’s teeth

Chewed the safety belts of “till death do us part”

Two steps back, out of the cockpit

Escorted by the parachute of acceptance

Poor woman headed for safety

For she realized and accepted

The punch of bitter words sends you into a coma

Paralyze your inner being, inner beauty

Nothing destroys as angry, brutal words!

 

An onlooker couldn’t help but ask,

Who the hell taught this captain how to fly?

Couldn’t help but wish sunshine upon darkness he breathed

And said, let the captain splash into the ocean

The sharks bite him not with their tooth

But with the sharp blunt truth

That he be no different from a rapist

That no problem is solved by a problem

Or else the solution will be as useless, pointless

As abusing a woman!

©Sechaba Keketsi

SECHABA KEKETSI IS A POETRY COORDINATOR FOR A LOCAL NEWSPAPER WHERE HE RUNS A COLUMN CALLED POETS PARADISE WHICH PUBLISHES POETS’ MATERAIL EVERY WEEK. HE IS ALSO A CONTRIBUTER TO A SOUTH AFRICAN LITERATURE BLOG, U WRITE WHAT YOU LIKE (http://uwritewhatulike.blogspot.com). HE HAS PUBLISHED HIS POEMS IN DIFFERENT LESOTHO PUBLICATIONS THAT INCLUDE; WEEKLY MAIL NEWSPAPER, L’OEUVRE MAGAZINE, INFORMATIVE NEWSPAPER AND MANY MORE.

www.sechabalb.wordpress.com

www.poetryfarm.wordpress.com

www.poetryfarm.blogspot.com

www.twitter.com/bacterialyrical

www.twitter.com/poetryfarm

www.uwritewhatulike.blogspot.com

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