NAME
Your name weighs heavy on the tongue, some days It has been taken hostage by a foreign power And rendered unpronounceable Light years away from those simple lines Traced in Aramaic on red sand That say, without pretension, ‘I am here’ Melting the heart of violence With forgiveness Buried under layers of gold leaf Or dazzling with the neon Vegas touch Moulded to fit the fashion of the times Your name is traded, branded, owned Nailed to the edifice of certainty To ward off those you do not love, at all, As knees bend fast To pick up the first stone Dragged through the mud of our self-interest The pasted overlay of our imaginings Is peeled away by time from all its lettering Restoring it to barefaced nudity Which calls out in the core of darkness To the poor, defiled and dispossessed The letters of your name Sketched out in seeds Deep-rooted in our soil Slow-growing into trees with healing leaves Breathe life into our tired skies And the windows of our souls.
Mud at the wall 