Kaunda (1972)-V2
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Kaunda (1972)-V2
His oil-country engine lathe rotates
at eighty feet per minute, Bryn watches
as the heavy cut engages, the gears take
up the strain, they whine through tenor
to bass. He enjoys his work and relaxes,
to the chattering sounds of metal chips
as they peal away from workpiece, change
colour from light straw to purple blue.
He knows that all is well by listening
to the sounds of his machine.
The workshop is sweltering hot, the tail
end of the hot season, the weather
is changing, the air heavy with superheated
moisture.
Word had come on the grapevine, Parsons,
a fishing trip on Lake Kariba, bumped
into a fisherman from Southern Rhodesia
who'd seen elements of the 5th (Chinese),
one of two of the finest Red divisions
on the border itching for them to invade.
Andy, his foreman, watched from the office,
at Parsons gesticulating, Andy already knew
he'd heard it earlier. Bryn signalled the end
of the conversation by turning away, busying
himself with the withdrawal lever.
This changed everything, there was no point
staying to gain a gratuity, no point if war
broke out, what was Kenneth playing at.
He couldn't beat the South even with Chinese
He would have to give up his interests
in Kapiri Imposhi. Release Meghan,
his housemaid and her sister, sack
the garden boy and send the children
to bordering school at 's-Hertogenbosch,
seek work in South Africa.
A crack of thunder announced the start
of the rainy season, three months of incessant
precipitation. The air cooled immediately
the drumming on the corrugated iron roof
echoed in the shop, rain dancing, raising steam,
bouncing twelve inches on the tarmac.
Andy was smiling now, likewise his muntus,
grins all round, the change of the season
the high point of their year, like Christmas
to the expats.
Oh Kenneth, why couldn't you have just settled
down with your opulent wife, grown old
in the pleasant sun. Why do you have to saddle
your land with people who will bring ruin to Xanadu.
You are not Mandela you don't have it in you,
you'll just bring desolation and hardship on your people.
at eighty feet per minute, Bryn watches
as the heavy cut engages, the gears take
up the strain, they whine through tenor
to bass. He enjoys his work and relaxes,
to the chattering sounds of metal chips
as they peal away from workpiece, change
colour from light straw to purple blue.
He knows that all is well by listening
to the sounds of his machine.
The workshop is sweltering hot, the tail
end of the hot season, the weather
is changing, the air heavy with superheated
moisture.
Word had come on the grapevine, Parsons,
a fishing trip on Lake Kariba, bumped
into a fisherman from Southern Rhodesia
who'd seen elements of the 5th (Chinese),
one of two of the finest Red divisions
on the border itching for them to invade.
Andy, his foreman, watched from the office,
at Parsons gesticulating, Andy already knew
he'd heard it earlier. Bryn signalled the end
of the conversation by turning away, busying
himself with the withdrawal lever.
This changed everything, there was no point
staying to gain a gratuity, no point if war
broke out, what was Kenneth playing at.
He couldn't beat the South even with Chinese
He would have to give up his interests
in Kapiri Imposhi. Release Meghan,
his housemaid and her sister, sack
the garden boy and send the children
to bordering school at 's-Hertogenbosch,
seek work in South Africa.
A crack of thunder announced the start
of the rainy season, three months of incessant
precipitation. The air cooled immediately
the drumming on the corrugated iron roof
echoed in the shop, rain dancing, raising steam,
bouncing twelve inches on the tarmac.
Andy was smiling now, likewise his muntus,
grins all round, the change of the season
the high point of their year, like Christmas
to the expats.
Oh Kenneth, why couldn't you have just settled
down with your opulent wife, grown old
in the pleasant sun. Why do you have to saddle
your land with people who will bring ruin to Xanadu.
You are not Mandela you don't have it in you,
you'll just bring desolation and hardship on your people.
-
- Posts: 1619
- Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
Re: Kenneth (1972)
One of the things I like about your writing is your ability to take the reader into unfamiliar territory .I don't have to know all the engineering specs to enjoy a poem filled with technical terms. I don't know about others, but I have no frame of reference for these people or events. As such, your ending smacks if white apartheid.
Whites being in caps.
Africans grow lazy in the sun
That the Whites are entitled to Shangri La.
I know De Klerk was real. I know Mandelka was as well .it is sometimes necessary to the integrity of a poem to include certain things, if they are true.
If that's your intent here, if you're bring authentic, ok. I would submit the average reader would be as familiar as me and just as lost without more information or background.
Now I'm off to Google.
Great, engaging writing as usual.
PS. In no way an I implying you're racist because I know better.
Whites being in caps.
Africans grow lazy in the sun
That the Whites are entitled to Shangri La.
I know De Klerk was real. I know Mandelka was as well .it is sometimes necessary to the integrity of a poem to include certain things, if they are true.
If that's your intent here, if you're bring authentic, ok. I would submit the average reader would be as familiar as me and just as lost without more information or background.
Now I'm off to Google.
Great, engaging writing as usual.
PS. In no way an I implying you're racist because I know better.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: Kenneth (1972)
Thanks Kenneth
Bryn certainly had little faith in African leaders and subsequent
events since 1972 bear that out.
Bryn certainly had little faith in African leaders and subsequent
events since 1972 bear that out.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: Kenneth (1972)
Your storytelling skills are good. You should look to trim, and to improve your ending. As usual, the narrator's voice is strong. I look forward to a revision.
The crux of the poem is here...look here as your focus...and to play off for a close. I like the setting here....
This changed everything, there was no point
staying to gain the gratuity, no point if war
broke out, what was Kaunda playing at.
He couldn't beat the South even with Chinese
divisions. He would have to give up his other
work interest in Kapiri Imposhi, send his wife
and children home to 's-Hertogenbosch
and seek work in South Africa.
The crux of the poem is here...look here as your focus...and to play off for a close. I like the setting here....
This changed everything, there was no point
staying to gain the gratuity, no point if war
broke out, what was Kaunda playing at.
He couldn't beat the South even with Chinese
divisions. He would have to give up his other
work interest in Kapiri Imposhi, send his wife
and children home to 's-Hertogenbosch
and seek work in South Africa.
-
- Posts: 1619
- Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
Re: Kenneth (1972)
Frank. Now I have some research to do. Yes all those things you mentioned are considered objectionable. A poem with those things in it would not get pubbed. One of the reasons I brought it up my friend
Re: Kenneth (1972)
FRANK---
BADLY LOST.
Kanuda.
did he once flirt with Red China?
Kanuda, i presume, of Zambia.
came to visit two or three us Presidents. one party rule for a long time. think he deserves =better then your last verse.
here is Kippling:
We've fought with many men acrost the seas,
An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not:
The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese;
But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot.
We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im:
'E squatted in the scrub an' 'ocked our 'orses,
'E cut our sentries up at Sua~kim~,
An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces.
So 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;
You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
We gives you your certificate, an' if you want it signed
We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you whenever you're inclined.
We took our chanst among the Khyber 'ills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,
An' a Zulu ~impi~ dished us up in style:
But all we ever got from such as they
Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;
We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say,
But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oller.
Then 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the missis and the kid;
Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did.
We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't 'ardly fair;
But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.
'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own,
'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,
So we must certify the skill 'e's shown
In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords:
When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush
With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an' shovel-spear,
An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush
Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a year.
So 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' your friends which are no more,
If we 'adn't lost some messmates we would 'elp you to deplore;
But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call the bargain fair,
For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!
'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead;
'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive,
An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead.
'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb!
'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,
'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn
For a Regiment o' British Infantree!
So 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;
You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
An' 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air --
You big black boundin' beggar -- for you broke a British square!
Rudyard Kipling
BADLY LOST.
Kanuda.
did he once flirt with Red China?
Kanuda, i presume, of Zambia.
came to visit two or three us Presidents. one party rule for a long time. think he deserves =better then your last verse.
here is Kippling:
We've fought with many men acrost the seas,
An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not:
The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese;
But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot.
We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im:
'E squatted in the scrub an' 'ocked our 'orses,
'E cut our sentries up at Sua~kim~,
An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces.
So 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;
You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
We gives you your certificate, an' if you want it signed
We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you whenever you're inclined.
We took our chanst among the Khyber 'ills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,
An' a Zulu ~impi~ dished us up in style:
But all we ever got from such as they
Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;
We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say,
But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oller.
Then 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the missis and the kid;
Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did.
We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't 'ardly fair;
But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.
'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own,
'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,
So we must certify the skill 'e's shown
In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords:
When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush
With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an' shovel-spear,
An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush
Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a year.
So 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' your friends which are no more,
If we 'adn't lost some messmates we would 'elp you to deplore;
But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call the bargain fair,
For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!
'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead;
'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive,
An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead.
'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb!
'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,
'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn
For a Regiment o' British Infantree!
So 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;
You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
An' 'ere's ~to~ you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air --
You big black boundin' beggar -- for you broke a British square!
Rudyard Kipling
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: Kenneth (1972)
Yes indeed
Kipling ballad form at 'is best.
And who can emulate Kipling
who told it as it was. Kipling
broke ranks with the establishment
and wrote ballad form poetry that
changed many a British man's vision
of reality. Why wouldn't a soldier
praise the courage of his enemy.
Kipling ballad form at 'is best.
And who can emulate Kipling
who told it as it was. Kipling
broke ranks with the establishment
and wrote ballad form poetry that
changed many a British man's vision
of reality. Why wouldn't a soldier
praise the courage of his enemy.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: Kaunda (1972)-V2
Bernie
Kaunda seemed a friendly sort of guy,
I pulled my punches, honestly.
Kaunda seemed a friendly sort of guy,
I pulled my punches, honestly.
Re: Kaunda (1972)-V2
Frank---
2 poems here, me, i take the first verse as the first poem. then stop, maybe a second "political" poem later, somewhere else....
benie
2 poems here, me, i take the first verse as the first poem. then stop, maybe a second "political" poem later, somewhere else....
benie