They hold our names ransom
as if our fathers are kings.
Put a cloth over its face and drive
it to a destination unknown.
They hold our names ransom.
They shout their demands over a coin
operated public phone.
In the middle of a busy street,
unmarked bills in black bags, no police.
They hold our names ransom.
They demand a swap the
money for its life.
When we get to the rendezvous point
they drive off and tell us to follow.
They hold our names ransom.
They drive off to the outskirts of the city
where the police are few and thugs a plenty.
We start to panic and hope the police who told
us not to worry will come in time and save us.
They hold our names ransom.
They count the bonded bills make sure it’s all there
then they drag our names from the boot.
We run to it to embrace it and tell it that its safe
but its not because they do not yet see shiny rings.
W.Arends
Well if you insist
I am not the color of my skin or the clothes on my back.
I am not who or what you assume me to be.
I am not a foul mouthed gun toting beer swigging cigarette smoking menace to society.
I am not a high school drop-out uneducated crime committing felon.
I am not your local hi-jacker who ties you up and tosses you in the boot, drops you off in the middle of the veld for no one to find.
I am Christian and proud of it!
I am A father A lover A brother and A proud uncle and role model to miniatures of me.
I am Leader and a thinker and a doer and speaker.
I am confident and loud.
I am a product of my father and his forefathers.
I am product of my mother’s womb and wisdom.
I am fearless I am Sound I Am a proud African Son!
And I will live my life so that long after my passing it will be remembered!
W.Arends
I dreamt of a river last night.
I dreamt of a river flowing and I could not determine its direction or where it goes.
I couldn’t establish if it’s flowing north or south or up or down nor east or west.
The river flowed an endless flow.
I followed its flow running along all the way it goes.
Up and down its banks left and then right and then flat and straight for long ends.
Twisting and turning through the hinterland calm at points and violent at others.
Coursing across the plains, thrashing over falls, pushing through the woods.
It started to rain as I ran along the river as it took me along on its journey across the land.
I ran as the dark engulfed me and I struggled to keep up.
I ran as the gloom surrounded me and all I could see were the droplets dancing with the delight.
As it hit the black silken surface of the rivers skin.
The rain ended and I continued to run trying to find this rivers end.
I ran confused and dazed through the dark no end in sight.
No ocean that will signal that I have come to the end, turn around and go away.
Run, no end. No end…no end. No end to this river that I dreamt about.
W.Arends