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Culture Documents
poems on death
rain 1
roots 2
hide 3
grave 4
am i the only one seeing them? 5
many 6
wear 7
yesterday 8
decay 9
white walls 10
memory 11
belly 12
each year, once 13
-ness 14
return 15
one death 16
© tshiamo malatji 2019
rain
may those eyes never turn into the rain
corroding curves on cheeks
finding the withering chest
heaving into the air
beneath it, may the heart remember
not lose itself
deep into the other
falling down its abyss
deep beneath its bowels
to find the soil under those feet
which move slowly above the surface
revealed to themselves
the pain resting upon the joint
spreading through the nerve
bleeding with the vein
stretching past the flesh
we allow ourselves to die
so the soil may live
and give birth
to new bodies
that remind those eyes
to cry with the rain
to not be mistaken for it
to not become it
roots
we grew in violence
by the hand
from the wrist
marked by the wire of the hanger
the rubber of the shoe
the binding of the book
the whip of the tongue
we were never taught to love
not ourselves
in homes with cracked brick walls
windows stained
empty frames
silent doors
falling on themselves
killing any soul that disobeyed
by living freely
i learned misery here
in defeat
like collapsing pillars
suffocating dust
broken handles
this is how i love
by the fist
from the palm
hide
shed our skin
beneath, broken and bare
there
blood knows spilling pain
tear that sleek flesh
reveal there
where we hide ourselves
coarse layers built around souls
still, but living
that dark, enclosed shell
where lively terrors form
stories of grief, memories of pain
and sorrowful affair
lay there
like trapped worms
in decaying cocoons
with eyes closed
and hope stretched
waiting to break into birth -
to feel light, see earth and touch skies
we remain beneath
suffering in homes, laying in fields
and weeping through nights
grave
boots sink, shovels dig
the ground opens
soil spreads itself
beneath us
but the hole
is deep within us
dust falls
to new places of despair
somewhere below
opened by steel
ends of wooden spades
searching for where we left ourselves
our souls
have already passed on
our bodies will follow soon
for flesh takes far longer
to decompose
for now
we may pretend to live
many
train station, lights flickering
insects dancing on the platform
mind roaring like oceans
blood, bones and flesh merging into steel
arms stretching, gasping for hope
feet finding shoes to fit into
mouth silently screaming
ears loudly listening
teeth, biting to tear fear apart
throat, swallowing itself
each piece of our body
dying in turns
hands losing happiness
tongues watered by worry
souls leaving us behind -
in darkness
the sadness is
we may never be whole
when we die
which piece of our bodies
must we rest in?
wear
death waits
happiness drifts
taking flesh beneath
left bare
ourselves revealed
first, the forming scars
a sorrowful struggle
with what survives
when joy departs
grief arrives
casting misery
onto the skin
still death waits
despair greets
lending darkness to wear
left hardened
the flesh burned
then longing leaves
bodies wear themselves
forgetting their once clothes
death appears
offering its skin
finally, we are dressed again
yesterday
on this day
the ocean parted
as it waved for you
the trees whispered
from their roots
buildings built storeys
upon storeys
to tell them to you
the sun rose
to shine upon your flesh
birds were an orchestra of praises
beneath a smiling sky
that cleared its gaze for you
flowers grew into gardens
too vast to navigate
but too beautiful to stop looking at
all the world
joined all of its peace
for you
but nature doesn’t understand
humans love differently
and violently
and we die so soon
decay
in the black night
her voice whispered
memories of the flesh
dark desires
a hollowed wind
chalked the sheets
murmured shadows
cold silhouettes
from the empty body
death’s wind
lightly against the skin
soaked sensation
searched for her
sorrow screamed
woke the silent sleep
slipped, spiraled, slumbered
sunk the stream
sensual yearning
lost on this bed
next to me
a nothingness
where she decayed
white walls
the stomach hurts
refuses to feed itself
spewing out
the soft medicine
the cold meal
it will starve
until the hunger
broils a fix
either, it eats
or i demise
the former delays the latter
and those white walls
look like tables
because the frames
have left dirty coffee stains
all the faces are still there
death forgot their flesh
when it ate their souls
i could stop staring
but i see it everywhere
the fear of dying too
and knowing that i will
memory
we are built broken
our lives are spent
trying to mend ourselves
to be an image of parts
nature will never make for us
after death
there are these bricks
around bells
with golden shapes
and letters
a structure of beauty
perfect enough to finally fix us
reminds me
we don’t own our lives
after we lose them
and maybe
we will be remembered
better than we lived
belly
a rugged expanse
middling an ancient site
reaches and collapses
traversing ground and sky
the mountain roars
raising from earth
bellowing through cracks of air
filled by an eager motive
powered by an aging nature
that sleeps upon the dirtbed
upon summit reaching summit
mountain's peak grazing sky
it begins to fall in tumult
returning to the soil
once a mountain
now, a shallow plateau
sunken deep into ground
finding tranquil rest
but, broken once again
as the mountain returns
growing larger still
until meeting the sky once more
then returning to rest again
over and over
the rugged region travels
appearing like a balloon
gaining air just to lose it
or an ocean´s wave
raising itself to fall
and through it all
that old ancient form
sleeps away
-ness
spending time
finding ways
to say we’re dying
leaving behind
actually living
knowingly
doing nothing
maybe lying down in sheets
trying to convince
my lungs
they can forget
how to breathe
return
in the air
you will not hear
our whispered screams
any longer
our voices will cease to carry
misery and grief
or despair
no noise, no outcry
no sound
but still,
know that
we have not given in
we are silent
because we are
quietly building
one death
express the body without pain
search for blissful crevices
somewhere, blotches of peace
lay beneath the stained skin
growing underneath
to comfort the boiling blood
remember that smile
etched in the wrinkled lips
given off once easily
by the jubilant face
when its eyes first discovered
the wonder of the world
happiness is easily lost
by the heart
which sinks into the body
and finds its stinging sores
replaced by human frailty
and our miserable struggles
become again,
more than a decaying shell
upon the coarse ground
be a sun ray
stretching upon the sky
among the flighted birds
release yourself
aboard the lighted path
journey to the flickering future
imagined by the young heart
when its lungs were small bags
carrying all hope
we are more
than this grief
we are the abundant water
falling to the soft bed
healing from our wounds
and learning joy again
the flesh can be complete
as it grows from its agony
and we desire to live
try to not forget
that there is only one death
in the very end.