Rita Rudner

Men don't feel the urge to get married as quickly as women do because their clothes all button and zip in the front. Women's dresses usually button and zip in the back. We need men emotionally and sexually, but we also need men to help us get dressed.

Poetic Muses
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strange stranger

i am very strange
or so they think
for i never ask
though i know not
and i am never sad
even when they are bad
yes, i never cry
but always try
to be that which i am
a strange stranger

finally...levi mwanawasa

they told us you were dead months ago
mbeki observed a moment of silence in your honour levi
then they told us that that defined media lies
we had started mourning you properly, i swear we had
but they were not telling us the truth
those of us who loved you so much
those of us for whom you spoke
today they came out clean
told us that you were gone
told us that they have a successor
but how do we mourn you levi
when the media broke the news again?
we want to mourn you honourably levi but we are scared
fare thee well baba...

the other woman

you hate me for my coloured teeth
coloured by calcium in the water i drink
you hate me for my dark skin
darkened by the hot sun in the fields
you hate me for my rough palms
roughened by the work of my hands

you do not like my skin colour
the colour of death at funerals
the colour of drug addicts in hollywood films
the colour of satan in pictures
the colour of africa in literature
the colour of inferiority in europe

you say i am not beautiful
because i have a funny fat flat nose
and a pair of full stuffed lips
and a highway sized gap between my teeth
and baobab legs with anthills on the calves
and a big fluid bottom that looks unattached

you think i am barbaric
because i cannot wear those clothes
clothes that i say are for men
clothes that show my big tummy
clothes that look like an artist's painting on my body
clothes that i must use soap to put on

you think i have no manners
because i eat ugali in the morning
because i do not throw away left overs
because i sing as i work while you sleep
because i cannot sleep with my father-in-law
because i refused to face the knife

you prefer her to me so you say
to drink her saliva as you kiss
to see her face that looks like an art gallery
to touch her bleached pink pale skin
to hear her bones creak in friction
to admire her dressed in a dress the size of your handkerchief

go and tell her to go away
i want her out of my way
tell her to pack and may be pray
before the break of the day
because of her i have fallen prey
to your comparisons everyday
but wait a while I have something to tell you
go and tell her to go away

coffin voices

listen to this...immortal man
can you see me?
why am i so pale?
am i not stiff?
what happened to me?
i cannot hear my voice

why am i here?
how did i get here?
you say i am dead?
but why?
tell me how
you immortal man

did he run over me?
was it murder?
oh...the suicide mission
did you say i was sick?
o...the fire at night
but you say no

listen to me immortal man
speak to this multitude
but tell them no lie
on my life or death
am i dead?
why am i hearing you?

cry not for me you liars
for sooner or later
i shall send you a letter
if i find the place better
but no...stop a moment
where am i going to?

where thou art?

when theses are dedicated

it is more to the mothers than the fathers

when lives are celebrated

it is more of the mothers than the fathers

when special mentions are made

it is more of the mothers than the fathers

i aint complaining about it

i aint questioning your conscience

i aint interrogating the 'order of things'

[and i know Foucault would applause]

i aint sympathising with anyone

i aint attacking anyone

but...

where art thou fathers?

http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0

imagining

i am looking at this dot

this dot that looks so small

this dot that means so much

this dot that carries so much sense

what is it about this dot

this dot called a fullstop

this dot called a decimal point

this dot called ...ooops!

yes, you are a man and so what?

because you are a man
some fluid substance in your head tells you that you are better
because you are a man
an echo rings in your ears that you should and are privileged
because you a man
something in you keeps on saying that you deserve the best
because you are a man
you convince yourself that any woman will sit and suffocate under your buttocks
because you are a man
that is why i am talking to you about your manliness or manhood
because you are a man
i want you to know that a man is only a dick
because you are a man
i want to be very clear that your manliness is only defined by a sticky thing called a penis

lest you forget
that stick does not make you a better person
lest you forget
that stick does not improve the fool that you are
lest you forget
having a hole called a vagina does not make me your subject
lest you forget
allowing you to put your penis into my vagina is not a favour that i dont deserve
lest you forget
i am writing this poem because you seem to have forgotten yourself
boy, the whole of you is just a drop of semen from an older penis

whispers

shhh
you hear them whisper
in their razzle dazzle
in hustle and bustle
will never settle
even after a battle
know very little
or even nothing
but are the painters
to paint your image

with their brushes
will paint your image
to turnish and furnish names

are the gurus
know the rules
on streets they pose
to get the daily dose

for no penny for pay
let them paint
and tint
and pile files of lies