COMRADE LOVE NEEDED

Sorrow of Love is hard to bear
stretches my bones and
I cannot go on

A need for comrades
to speak about Love
lost their ability to love
can only love for moments

When these moments come
they devour them like
rare chocolate
not enjoying them

My comrades have physical
beauty, Spirit beauty I doubt
they question commitment and honesty
it is their own they question

We do not need hate to be
involved in the Struggle for Truth
We need Love

I see comrades becoming mechanical
we strive for a Distant Star
that Star beckons with Love
Comrades !

Love is needed !

©GhairoDanielsPoetry
Bellville,SA 1980


(This little poem was written when I was 18yrs old as a young student activist at the University of the Western Cape,SA. I subsequently read it at mass meetings at high schools throughout the province, as part of the student insurrection, enthralling high school pupils. Then, of course I could read it with a lot of fire. I understand that it is a channelled poem as I wrote it in 5mins flat during an activist meeting)

I'm a foreigner
at the crossroads
what you see from a distance
wave hands
say hello to you.
I've been confused
ever since stand alone in the crowd,
no one sees me
except for a pair of eyes
that is lodged in people's heads
which I never knew before;
and the clouds turn blue but don't hurt flowing right over the head
then the birds rise expel the wind
who had tossed my long hair.
I just stare at them,
hope they don't look at me.
However, the world suddenly stopped. And my world seems to have a limit
to transcend isolation.
I'm a foreigner
at the crossroads,
which has been left behind by old memories,
and when the new comrades have become adept at reading signs,
and therefore we have bonded
like a relationship
that we are not really aware of.
I'm a foreigner
at the crossroads,
greet you as a stranger too,
but now everyone is busy making their own festival,
and don't ask,
I make a festival for whom,
except for the day
when I'm not known anymore.

Dear comrade,
Maybe you are achieving medals for your victory
but, actually you are achieving our hearts for your bravery...

It's the first time I've ever
bought you flowers;
I only realise this
when I'm minutes away
from your funeral.

Custom cannot wither, nor age enslave
My infinite array of memories.
I came of age upon a wave
Of ideals that anchored
Changes and elders outraged,
Appalling them into rage.
They often responded
With violence, yet we endured.
Even when comrades were shot down,
And protesters run to ground,
The promise of a new world grew in secret,
In the impromptu families in hill towns,
Or the remnants of Haight-Ashbury
And the minds of Lost Boys and Girls unbound,
In the survivors of Kent and Jackson State;
Our dream died not but elected to wait,
And In the choices of all
Not to succumb to servility
Nor women to proscribed maternity.
Equality stayed the rule instead of resignation.
Now, age has slowed but not stopped us
And we reach out across the air,
Teaching young ones, as passionate as we,
To distrust despots, ever serve the cause of liberty.

What I do to them.
I tolerant the intolerance.
I see individuals in the crowd.
And I keep'em safe and sound.

We're supposed to be enemies.
They obey people I won't stand.
They believe with no doubt
The things disapproved
With every breath and step  I take.
But our balance is calm as a lake.

We are antonyms.
They follow sun and I adore moon
They praise landwhile I honor the wind.
And we're a duet just as lime and mint.

But now  look at us.
I help them out once I've heard a call.
And they catch me right before I fall.
Always getting stuck in one boat.
And you know, we are simply one,
We don't care that  it's just dumb.