Daily Archives: August 21, 2016

From: One Testimony from the Victims in South Sudan, Juba 11th July 2016 by David Susswein

I am not a silent poet

“it was not the action of men, but of god’s agents”

i did not see an angel pushing a gun to my skin

i did not feel an angel’s cock up me

or an angels fist in my face

but i did see your face:

and walking away from me,

cowered in a corner,

pretending never to hear the sounds my mouth made

the sounds my body, violated, made

when i was freed and escaped

did you crawl back:

to sniff my blood left on the floor,

the semen that was left,

did you taste it:

lifting your fingers to your mouth.

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The foreigner by Andrés Marcial

I am not a silent poet

This will be my dinner for today, a stale bread sandwich
and a warm Coke, to arrive and nobody being there
to welcome.
Here life is cheap or worth pennies only
And I came to stay, but my will is only passing by
Nothing I say will be had into account, I’ll always be tied
to corporate life and cheap rewards
And I feed my oblivion endorsing nonsense, lost causes
some old tapes, 80’s souvenirs, scattered memories
insidiuous cult of nostalgia could never relate to
ruin or reproach, sink or swim for everyone involved

And before my feet touch the ground, in every seed planted
in my dreams, in every turn of the wing, when strain overcomes
Love, when it’s more about envy than awe and the landing strip
is still far over the skyline, hidden by a cloak of mist and other,
more refined forms of slavery, all that…

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Election post-mortem by Jonathan Taylor

I am not a silent poet

Following the election pundits explained
why the pundits had got it so wrong.

We are sorry, they said.
We underestimated the People, they said,
their universal love for one another,
their beautiful way with strangers.

Our polls were black holes
sucking in the light.
Our pie-charts were sieves
through which a hidden wellspring
of crypto-hippies tumbled.
We didn’t film our nation’s march
hand in hand towards the sunset.
Our cameras were pointed at the dark

so we mistook inner-city waltzes for riots,
bankers’ hand-outs for looting,
ribbon-wrapped parcels for bombs
and poetry for politics.

It’s easily done.

Jonathan Taylor is an author, editor, critic and lecturer. His books include the novel Melissa (Salt, 2015), the memoir Take Me Home (Granta, 2007), and the poetry collection Musicolepsy (Shoestring, 2013). His website is www.jonathanptaylor.co.uk.

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