Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2016
The next time you go out into nature,
Leave your dog behind.
Don't call a friend to join you
Or bother your spouse
With something done alone.
Don't saddle your bike
And rush to catch the sunset with your camera.
This is not a memento to share,
Parade and shackle
With the rest of your dreams.
Don't claim love over her
When you still fear the creeping
And the crawling
Or pretend to meditate
While posing for the lenses
She is not an heirloom
To be passed down
Like the stigma
You have burdened femininity with
She is more than that
She is a mother
A mother to children who shredded
Their umbilical cord
Lost their way home
And now return soaked in pain
She is your mother
Not some ****** hostess for your events
Nor the burial ground
Of her infants dying in vane
The next time you go out into nature
Talk to her
Feel at home amongst your kin
Laugh sing and dance
And do not be deterred by her silence
Stinging words or prying eyes
All your life she has been your voice
You are still alive today
Because nature did not abandon you
When you tore her apart
With your cashmere this
Your pine that
Your 200km/h
The trophy heads
And your vile arenas that shave her bare
Not even when
You silenced her voice
When you looked the other way.
Sive Myeki
Written by
Sive Myeki  South Africa
(South Africa)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems