South African

There is no time like the present

No time to call me the better man

I love you all but still you sin

You smoke like Dirk but hold your fin

Like an animal

You do not win

In absence of glory you do not tell

The winner is evil the sky the begin

Of pleasure inperilled

The arc of bin laden

Does not finish here

But there where you win

The aimless start of war can be

The anywhere else for you do not begin

The end does start to make it sin

You do not know where I cannot simply

Open your eyes to the title track

Of the lp

I love to play

10 to 1

Is not the time

It opens doors

Where love begins

I di not know where you

Cannot sin

Begin the where

When no one sins

Where your difference on the brow

And hold your crooked man

On the sow

Soo-ee, soo-ee

I love you more

Than pigs do in your final hour

Do not know me when

You power

I know you not

And love you nire.

Pyre is work I do not pleasance

Take the bow

The corner presence

Is open now

I cannot hold

You again.


Copyright Bruce E Saunders 2020

The Follow through – I can’t resist.

The follow through of what I said is this: I believed there would be a war in South Africa when I left. I did not want to be part of it and to fight for the apartheid army. I joined the anti-apartheid union Natfhe in London and worked as a slave for the mentality that it should be ended and yet it did not. It continued. It continued for a decade and then Thabo mBeki got in and he got threatened. And then Jake. Now it is all gone, The enflavour of the past is gone and instead we have slavery and more enslavery of the youth to the drug they love – no not dagga, but love. Love for their country which is pitiful. It is pitiful to hear the chant “Proudly South African” on the SAA Airbus of British make. To hear the end of the game shall be the White Dominance in the media again. I wish it had been a war and Nelson Mandela as I shall call him should have been remembered as a soldier and not a confederate of the cause to free the African slave and open the border to the European nationals in search of sun and a few kite flying missions. I wish it should be so. I wish it should but it ain’t. It ain’t and my heart reeks of it, It reeks as I remember what I have said and what it has been. Now I wish it to be a better place than it is and I hope it shall. For in the end it shall be the end of the time and the end shall not be a better one it shall be a worse as I grow old and hope that it shall come a reckoning for the bastards that made me do what I did and leave. I did and I stand by it but one day I shall write a book that shall make them stand and be awake. I hope. I cry for me, not my country.