It is such a proud thing that the mountain made it to the New 7 Natural Wonders of the World:)
Table Mountain Upper Cable Car Station
There Was a Fight
There was a fight in this house
While I slept
Unusually from 5 till midnight.
There was a fight
And someone smashed the desktop.
No, not mine
But even so …
The police were here
I heard them come
And vaguely saw legs move past my door
‘Police. Who called? Is this the house?’
Disembodied voices spoke
Then I passed out again
Not knowing why they came, nor even if
They came for real.
There was a fight last night
In this house
The desktop smashed
Because it is not his to take
A man arrested; gone to jail
A man who spoke of love and care
While anger bred relentless violence in his soul.
There was a fight in this house last night
While I slept unusually from 5 till midnight.
Why could I not wake?
Domestic Violence
©Jeanihess
I loved this when the desert sands and even the buildings took on a pink hue in the early morning sunrise.
The moon as seen from Hanover Park Cape Town on the first night of Ramadaan.
South Africa has many Toenships and Informal Settlements. Sometimes the Informal Settlements are hidden in back yards and with in the heart of Townships.
Pictures: Hanover Park Cape Town
Court Yard as Cycle Track
Barren Play Environment
Child Gangs and Gambling
Where Children Live and Learn
| Thumbs up for SA South Africa is doing well as host of the 2009 Fifa Confederations Cup, particularly in the high standard of its facilities, areas around stadiums and base camps for teams, says high-ranking football official Horst Schmidt. I have not heard much from the detractors that would that the World Cup Series 2010 will fail: that SA is ot able to host the event and that the Confederation Cup event would prove this. |
I stepped in this little bookshop in Sea Point and was drawn to pick up and browse this book. Fatal. I went back to purchase it.
It resonates with my poem TO WOMEN so I publish it here.
To Women
Daughters of the Universe,
Your Essence gives form to the World:
You are not the Sacrifice, but
The divine Source of creative life.
In the Womb you determine Destiny.
History is made by the Words of your mouth:
Be not silent for the World implodes on itself
And the Earth cries out in pain.
Free now your Passion: Let Joy gurgle up
From your belly, through your throat,
And into all wretchedness.
Kundalini, the Divinely Feminine, dwells within.
She slumber- coils at every vortex base.
See her in the surging tides and in the
Cyclic phases of the moon.
Her ascent brings forth regeneration
And creative change.
Whenever her sleep is too long unbroken
Siva Consciousness turns perversely on itself;
Corrodes, corrupts, order sickens and decay
Seeps insidiously into all values that govern
Life on a blighted Earth.
She watched your flagging spirit and your
Shrinking forms, and wailed from mountaintops,
Whispered in every cavern, spoke to your brothers
In the Womb to affirm and to inspire the feminine
Within them, urged the Earth to echo her song;
Sought to raise the tempo of the calling drums.
Hear her voice: Rise up from the dust, reach to
The summer skies, dare to touch the Sun.
Rise to the rhythm of the pulsing drums.
Let your feet beat a tattoo.
Dance in the circle of Sisterhood.
Twirling, leaping, let your chains slip loose,
Step free into the light taking your sister with you.
Sound your song into all of your life,
Let your voice ring out into every dark place
Where sisters oppressed and shackled
Seek freedom and light.
Too long your voices have been silent.
With laboured breath struggling to sustain your
Gifts of Nurture, Change and Growth
You did not hear her call when full of Love
You donned your girdles, bound your feet:
Limiting the Power of her Gift –
Divine and healing Womanhood.
Fail not her pulse in your blood.
Rise for when you rise, she rises with you.
Rise to the Councils of Decision- makers.
Breath your Wisdom into deliberations that
Foster wars, and poverty, and pain.
Infuse them with the quest to still the rage that
Sweeps this World with the violence
That once brought floods upon the Earth.
Daughters, the Ancients have spoken:
In soft hums on the wings of the Wind their voices
Come to you breathing a vision of light dancing
In gentle hues off sparkling waters where
The lion and the lamb together feed and sleep
And men and women seek to live the dream.
Rise to the fullness of your Womanhood.
Dance to the thrumming pulse, sound your song
Until the echoes fill Eternity and the Sun is
Dulled by radiant Serpentarius, the Androgyne,
Reborn in the great eclipse of Sakti’s rise to
Tepheret and the World renewed by all people:
Man, Woman, and Child
Aspiring to their Personhood dancing with you.
Jeanette Hess
On an early radio talk show white participation in public rally celebrations was discussed this morning. I remembered again how I went to rallies immediately after the 1994 elections and the subsequent celebrations and rallies on public holidays looking forward excitedly to merging with the Rainbow Nation to find that the whites and pinks were absent and the rainbow palette incomplete.
I was naive? Well why not? I think that this naivety underscores the integrity with which we approached regime change. We were all hopeful. Many of us believed that if the tone of regime change was conciliatory that our white counterparts would join the change: instead we still have resistance to change and integration after 15 years.
So there was 350 years of oppression by and advantage for white people in South Africa and perhaps this also needs 3 or 4 generations for a real change of attitude but in the mean time we are being told by this sector of our society that their youth is ‘born free’ and have neither part or benefit of the oppression.
It is of course only true that they are ‘born free’ (during or post 1994) but that they have neither part or benefit of oppression is another discussion.
The review session for ‘African Sociological Review was full of energy. An observation that raised its head a few time was how the rest of Africa viewed South Africa as colonial and how this was in the process of changing but not quite fast enough. While this discussion (which focussed on the Shoprite and MTN entry into the rest of Africa and the BEE aspect of this expansion) the logo of the Book Fair was projected on the wall in front. I kept wondering how the Western Cape and especially Cape Town could be so hung up on a colonial image and be wondering why it is so hard to shake this colonial perception: this otherness to the rest of South Africa and Africa. Insert: MTN mapping.
 | Jeanius on Liberated Women |
 | Craigslist posting on Liberated Women |
 | Mr WordPress on Hello world! |
