White mine worker’s song (in answer to Don Mattera)
At their jobs beneath spinning wheels
next to yellow mine dumps
and the small train track
after non-payment of many months salaries
people’s lives cannot now turn back
while the mine owners are black
as a man takes the last sight
of the stars gleaming above him
before he hangs himself
on the tree in his garden
only death welcomes him
as he has lost any way
of making a living…
[References: “Mine worker’s song” by Don Mattera. “Num spokesman Lesiba Seshoka said in a statement on Thursday that the union was outraged at hearing Aurora’s commercial director Thulani Nogbane telling the committee that all Num-affiliated members at Grootvlei and more than 80% at Aurora’s Orkney mine had been paid...Aurora director Zondwa Mandela told the committee that illegal miners, acid mine drainage and the termination of a water pumping subsidy by the Department of Mineral Resources as well as involvement by the trade unions Num and Solidarity, were to blame for the mine’s cash flow problems…”Num is pleased that a successful application by the department to obtain another compliance order has been handed down, ” said Seshoka, adding that this should force Aurora to pay outstanding salaries. Solidarity’s Helping Hand project visited the NG Kerk (Dutch Reformed Church) Strubenvale, Thursday providing struggling workers with much-needed food hampers, as well as feedback on the portfolio committee meeting. Aurora management has declined to speak to the press.” The Springs Advertiser Wednesday,20 April 2011.
“The need for aid to workers of Aurora Gold East Rand is stronger than ever, following the recent suicide of Marius Ferreira. Fifty-two-year-old Ferreira, a respected fitter in the mine for many years, gave in to the pressures of ongoing non-payment of salaries over the past 18 months. Taking his own life by drinking ant poison, he passed away at Far East Rand Hospital on March 29, along with the last inkling of dignity and pride he once possessed. A loving father and husband, Ferreira’s death devastated those who knew him – most of all his wife, Susan. A resident at a retirement village in Krugersrus, Susan’s struggle to come to terms with her husband’s death has only being heightened by the ongoing struggles that she is now forced to face alone. “They went from a comfortable living – Marius earning on average R16000 a month depending on overtime – to one of pure struggle, ” explains a close family member, who prefers to remain anonymous. “They were forced to sell everything. They were forced to move to the retirement village as they could no longer afford the house they were in. They lost their cars and were eventually at the point where they even had to sell their bed linen and cutlery just to put food on the table, ” she adds. Ferreia’s death appears to have sparked a string of potential suicides, with no end to their seemingly never-ending struggle in sight. Johan Cronje and his wife Chané*, together with their three children; aged 11,10 and six; are on the same dark road as Ferreira – Johan having attempted to take his own life no less than three times on Thursday evening. “I was busy in the kitchen when I went looking for Johan. I found a rope tied on a noose already set up outside, ” explains Chané. Calming her husband down, Chané kept a weary eye on him through the night – not daring to sleep for fear of waking up to find his lifeless body. He attempted to hang himself twice more that night. “We were comfortable once. Never would we have expected to find ourselves in such a position, ” says 32-year-old Chané, tears threatening to break. A qualified winding engine driver,36-year-old Johan’s R18000 salary allowed Chané to fulfil her role as a full-time housewife at their Groot Vlei Village home, caring for their two sons and daughter. Losing their vehicles, furniture, dignity and hope as salary problems persisted. Johan’s failed attempts to find alternative work is considered the main reason for his suicide attempts…The couple is R48000 in arrears on their home, recently receiving a eviction notice. Chané says that the last payment received from Aurora was at the end of January – a meagre R1800,10% of one months salary.” The Springs Advertiser Wednesday,11 May 2011. ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Misfortune Of A Aurora East Rand Mineworker
A 36 year old man works months without payment
at the Aurora East Rand gold mine
under the illusion from the black owners, promising
that salaries are following, but without receiving money.
In January he only receives ten percent of his salary
(which is just eighteen hundred rand)
while the company owns him for eighteen months
and the government does nothing against the black owners
he looks for other employment everywhere
but is not able to find anything else,
he is put out of his house and has to leave it
finding nowhere to go to
things get too much for the poor man,
he looses his cars, his furniture
and almost every thing that he possess,
in his thoughts he is at the edge of the abyss,
he does not know how to put food on the table,
tries to hang himself three times on one night
where his wife stops him just in time
and now she is really scared
that he will try to suicide again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Submission (in answer to Don Mattera)
I have seen a white old man and woman
turned onto the street,
living in cardboard boxes
with their small white dog
in the new disastrous improved South Africa,
I have seen white people taking their own lives
when black mine owners robbed them of salaries
and there was no job to get,
no living to be made
and they did this
instead of starting to beg.
I have seen white men and women
with university degrees
leaving the country
in numbers that are more than a million
to find a place to have a life
somewhere else in a foreign country,
I have waited for more than a hour queuing
at a local bank to make a cash deposit,
as a payment to someone
and the way that things are going,
with the black economic empowerment
and people not up to doing a simple job,
soon all of private industry
will be falling apart
as the government departments are doing.
I have noticed friends and family members
who were robbed, hijacked in their vehicles,
raped, tortured and killed
while the South African Police
did their very best to make a arrest
and like in all other things
are not up to it.
I know people who live in despair,
who are totally without hope
while the country’s borders
are flung wide open
to the rest of Africa
to first have a chance at a job
and their degrees and experience
in the face of this means nothing
but not one does bend
under the black heel to submission,
at the mercy of God
their lives go on…
[Reference: “Submission” by Don Mattera.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Menstruation At Forty
I was thinking of a son.
The womb is not a clock
nor a bell tolling,
but in the eleventh month of its life
I feel the November
of the body as well as of the calendar.
In two days it will be my birthday
and as always the earth is done with its harvest.
This time I hunt for death,
the night I lean toward,
the night I want.
Well then—
speak of it!
It was in the womb all along.
I was thinking of a son ...
You! The never acquired,
the never seeded or unfastened,
you of the genitals I feared,
the stalk and the puppy’s breath.
Will I give you my eyes or his?
Will you be the David or the Susan?
(Those two names I picked and listened for.)
Can you be the man your fathers are—
the leg muscles from Michelangelo,
hands from Yugoslavia
somewhere the peasant, Slavic and determined,
somewhere the survivor bulging with life—
and could it still be possible,
all this with Susan’s eyes?
All this without you—
two days gone in blood.
I myself will die without baptism,
a third daughter they didn’t bother.
My death will come on my name day.
What’s wrong with the name day?
It’s only an angel of the sun.
Woman,
weaving a web over your own,
a thin and tangled poison.
Scorpio,
bad spider—
die!
My death from the wrists,
two name tags,
blood worn like a corsage
to bloom
one on the left and one on the right—
It’s a warm room,
the place of the blood.
Leave the door open on its hinges!
Two days for your death
and two days until mine.
Love! That red disease—
year after year, David, you would make me wild!
David! Susan! David! David!
full and disheveled, hissing into the night,
never growing old,
waiting always for you on the porch ...
year after year,
my carrot, my cabbage,
I would have possessed you before all women,
calling your name,
calling you mine.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Where Does It Go?
As I watch the
Night Sky
I think of you.
The one I grew
Up with,
The one I always
Talked to,
The one I never left.
I watched the sky
On theanniversary
Of you death.
I feel that in times
Nature atunes to
Our emotions.
I watched the
Night sky.
Your death
Was so abrupt
Everyone was
Shocked.
I watch the
Night sky
As all the
Stars cry.
I stand over the
Grave marked as mine.
The sky bleeds
It's crystal
Tears.
Dead in the winter
A death had
Occured,
People cry for
The lost,
They cry for
The pain.
Now they weep
For my soul
For it is lost.
I can't join
The dead for
It wasn't my
Time, but
I can't be
Alive for my
Body is dead.
I'm lost between
Worlds.
I want to
Sleep.
As I stand over the
Grave marked as mine.
The night of the anniversary
Replays every year.
When I return to the
Scene where I wept
Crimson tears
Every night of the anniversary
The story replays,
But no living soul
Can see it.
Wrong conclusions
Drawn by human thoughts
And yet if they could
See what I do,
Then all will be
Explained
As the night of the anniversary
Replays every year.
As I watch the
Night sky
And all the stars
Cry,
As I stand over the
Grave marked as mine,
The night of the anniversary
Replays every year.
I live on.
poem by Sans Serif
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Shes Back.....
I cant wait till death has comes
in this dark evening
i cut a vein, my razor sharp as ever
i cant wait for death to come
alone in this world
should i write my suicide note?
but no, no one will read it
i am just a person not special
my life is nothing
i cat wait to die
besides who will stop me
i am nothing
i slit my wrist
as these tears come
i am back to my old self
i thought there was no love for me and
now you have proven me love cause more
pain in life, that love a second form of suicide.....
poem by Aurora Lockwood
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Aurora
How could you be everything
We were cracking you up to be?
Were cracking ourselves up too.
Were cracking ourselves up to be you.
Had you in my hand,
Now, whered you go, aurora?
See you up ahead, but I dont know if I can go as far as you go.
Everything keeps happening,
And its happening to me.
Im losing sight of its meaning.
You blew away the meaning.
I had it in my hand.
Now, whered it go, aurora?
I see you up ahead but I dont know if I can go as far as you go
And everyone keeps telling me that this is good.
I needed you to tell me it was good, too.
Had you in my hand,
Now, whered you go, aurora?
I see you up ahead but I dont know if I can go as far as you go.
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 98: Ah Bed, The field Where Joy's Peace
Ah bed, the field where joy's peace some do see,
The field where all my thought to war be train'd,
How is thy grace by my strange fortune stain'd!
How thy lee shores by my sighs stormed be!
With sweet soft shades thou oft invitest me
To steal some rest, but wretch I am constrain'd
(Spurr'd with Love's spur, though gall'd and shortly rein'd
With Care's hand) to turn and toss in thee.
While the black horrors of the silent night
Paint woe's black face so lively to my sight,
That tedious leisure marks each wrinkled line:
But when Aurora leads out Phoebus' dance
Mine eyes then only wink, for spite perchance,
That worms should have their Sun, and I want mine.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Mine All Mine
Forgive me father
For I have sinned
Ive been through hell and back again
Shook hands with the devil
Looked him in the eye
Looked like a long lost friend
Anything you want
Any dirty deeds
Hes got everything
Except what I really need
Keepin me temporarily satisfied
But not one thing I tried
Filled me up inside
Or felt like mine
Mine, all mine
Yeah, the search goes on
The more I look
My world keeps getting smaller
Staring at the sun
Searchin for the light
Almost ended up blinded
Some only see
What they want to see
Claiming victory
Oh, but thats not me
Give me truth
Give me something real
I just want to feel
Like its
Mine, all mine
Oh really mine, all mine
Come on give me something
Something thats mine, all mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
All the words on the wall
Look the same in the mirror
Every riddle
Every clue
You got allah in the east
You got jesus in the west
Christ, whats a man to do?
Theyll find a cure for anything
Just kill the pain
Numb my brain
We see a man
Speaking the word of god
Provin to be a fraud
His own church applauds
Stop lookin out
Start lookin in
Be your own best friend
Stand up and say
Hey! this is mine
All mine, all mine, all mine
Baby, you got something
And I got something
And its mine, all mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
Yes, Im searching
Mine, all mine
Got to have it
Mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching Aurora
The stillness of the night now breaks
As the roosters announce, Aurora wakes
In magical splendor unfolds her garments
As deep blue turns to magenta's raiment
Then softly sheer lavender lace the sky
Too magnificent to be drank by the eye
Undressing, she then reveals her hues
Of bright red, and orange, then yellow on blue
Each day that dawns is a spectacular sight
Watching Aurora is a wonderful delight.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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One More Payment
Aint that the way the luck goes
Seems like it never can be found
Break my back to make those bank notes
Payin on an almost always broken down
Fix that car nine ways to sunday
And it wont start again when monday rolls around
Aint that the way the rent goes
Seems like its never goin down
And that bankers bound to foreclose
At this rate, Ill lose my interest in this town
Paint the walls mend the windows
bout the time the roof comes crumblin to the ground
Ive been footin the bill for some time
Stretchin my credit out of line
Well I may not get ahead but now I wont be far behind
Ive got one more payment and its mine
Were gonna swing it
Aint that the way the heart goes
Seems they just attack without a sign
My minds been on vacation
And my bodys been workin overtime
But Ive done all that I can do
Theres just one more balance due before its mine
Ive been footin the bill for some time
Step by step and line by dotted line
Well I havent bought the farm yet
But Im not that far behind
Ive got one more payment and its mine
One more payment and its mine
One more payment and its mine
One more
One more
One more
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corruption Reigns Supreme
Politicians and union chiefs,
Are really so alike,
High salaries and pension schemes,
They never go on strike.
They're rewarded when they make a mess,
The same applies when they fail,
Whereas we'd be sacked immediately,
Then thrown into jail.
Their policies are much the same,
In Immorality they are entwined,
They want the plebs under their thumb,
In corruption they are enshrined.
They're paid for by the working class,
They always get their way,
Yet when it comes to all their perks,
We do not have a say.
When we hit recession,
For us redundancy will lurk,
While they retain their earnings,
They forever remain in work.
Take the miners leader,
He was pretty deft,
He's the leader of a union,
Where there are no miners left.
Trade unions and the government,
Have an affiliation,
You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours,
It's a truly sick creation.
You often find that union chiefs,
End up as politicians,
The job is very much the same,
Dictating our conditions.
If they were truly competent people,
With problems we would not be beset,
But throughout the world these wasters,
Have saddled us with massive debt.
They must be forced to recognise,
That we've all had enough,
If they had to live as we do,
They would find it really tough.
The workers of the modern world,
Really need to unite,
Strip these people of all their power,
Then push them out of sight.
Maybe then we could rid ourselves,
Of our lowly self esteem,
But the problem is we're far too weak,
That's Why,
'' Corruption Reigns Supreme ''
A Rent Free Home To Live In
once you were offered
a rent free home to live in
for you and your family
a full time job
for both your wife
and yourself
a much higher salary
than you were making
a salary for your wife
house was warm freshly painted
beautify prepared for your family
not taken was this opportunity
a school was next street behind
but a short walk for your children
your salary was fully guaranteed
house waited empty a full year for thee
opportunity open dawn bright for thee
salary guaranteed in perpetuity for thee
you chose instead nuts and bolts living
you choose instead continued paying renting
time passes now your bills I am not paying
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I've Got Mine (extended Version)
I can take the pressure here
I don't walk the streets in fear
I'm taller than I was last year
'cause I've got mine
What ya want? I've got mine!
What ya want? I've got mine!
No-one is gonna take from me
Frame me or my family
'cause if they do it's plain to see
that they'll get waste
What ya want? I've got mine!
What ya want? I've got mine!
So if you want the same as me
a feeling of security
Then I've got something you should see
You can get one
What ya want? I've got mine!
What ya want? I've got mine!
What ya want? I've got mine!
(repeat 'till end
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ive Got Mine
I can take the pressure here
I dont walk the streets in fear
Im taller than I was last year
cause Ive got mine
What ya want? Ive got mine!
What ya want? Ive got mine!
No-one is gonna take from me
Frame me or my family
cause if they do its plain to see
That theyll get waste
What ya want? Ive got mine!
What ya want? Ive got mine!
So if you want the same as me
A feeling of security
Then Ive got something you should see
You can get one
What ya want? Ive got mine!
What ya want? Ive got mine!
What ya want? Ive got mine!
(repeat till end)
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Mine (Demo)
I've got blood on my hands from this little timid life
It's just like a man, to trust me with all his might
I've got mud on my feet, when I kicked you back 3 wks.
If I promised to keep my mouth shut, can I sit her while you speak
Finally mine, your finally all mine
Finally mine, your finally all mine
Where did it get me, all mine
What did it teach me, all mine
Somebody stop me, I'm losing control again
I've got honor to earn
But I guess I lost my turn
When will I learn, to treat you with concern
Finally mine, your finally all mine
Finally mine, your finally all mine
Where did it get me, all mine
Look what it taught me, all mine
Somebody stop me, I'm losing control
Where did it get me, all mine
Look what it taught me, all mine
Somebody stop me, I'm losing control
All mine
Where did it get me, all mine
Look what it taught me, all mine
Somebody stop me, I'm losing control
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Freak (1) (Took Son's Wife And Killed Son's Daughter)
A 4-year-old daughter was murdered,
by a 45-year-old grandfather,
who had a love affair with his daughter-in-law,
who is a 23-year-old woman whose husband's heart got gnawed.
The husband found out the affair and had their marriage got undone.
The grandfather did'nt have any consideration for his son.
He admitted beating the grand-daughter to death,
stuffing his body into a suitcase and throwing into the river bed.
Murder occured in May, about 3 months ago.
3 weeks ago, her great grandmother contacted Authority for her no-
show.
Then the disappearance brought to police attention.
How could they commit a crime full of sins?
They have children of their own,
but about parental love they have never known.
The father not only robbed his son of his wife,
but also put an end to his grand-daughter's life.
There are actually some bad fathers,
who could be compared to freak Monster.
Focus on Springs
Eventually the mine closed,
where people worked for months
without a salary, the last of them leave the grounds,
and there’s a strong suspicion
that the new black owners took the profit into their own pockets,
refining the gold somewhere else outside of the company,
causing the company deliberately to break apart
and it is as if nobody can stop or want to stop this felony.
With stubble on their faces men stand in the streets
guarding cars in the hot sun
and they talk Afrikaans, it’s as if the blood clots in their veins
while life and all income stops for them,
where some even live in boxes on the street,
trying to find shelter in the open space behind a church.
[Reference: Sonnet – Uit Malvern (Sonnet – From Malvern) by S. J. Pretorius.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Holy Virgin
The Holy Virgin
The time has…has come the time of death,
The death of my life, death of my breath,
Death of all but one…death of one but all,
Yet into the void for death I shall call.
It is near but death itself is nearer,
For all those who shall not be cheerer,
Death was the love I called upon into the world,
It was love that trembled as my death built a new world.
A new world with one less,
A new world with a greater mess,
For death of one is death of all,
Still into the void, My love for death I shall call.
‘Cause there is none like death
And none like death can take my breath.
For I was me and me alone,
And I was mine and mine own.
‘Cause there is none like me-
None as different…and not one so free.
Death was all I had ever known,
From when I as a seed into the earth was sown,
To the skies I reached out yet grew not,
Higher than all I was yet was so merely short.
I knew not what I wanted,
But I knew that what I was gifted,
But I knew not what I had to do,
But I knew very well what to do.
Behind bars I had threw mine soul and heart,
But not my mind which was my delicate art,
‘Cause that was all I had,
It was merry yet sad,
‘Cause I was far from all, I severed myself,
Yet my love was not for myself,
Unfathomable was my love for love,
Yet I hid it all up in a cove.
But I did what I did,
For I was me and not some other silly did.
I told them not when they told I was wrong;
When they told I was bad I told I was wrong,
For I knew my action,
Yet lost was the proper reaction.
Sins were mine, sins to all,
Sins were mine but mine sins not all.
Robbed by death I was of all but one,
One was my mind- the special one.
For my mind was mine and mine alone,
Amidst all it sparkled and shone,
For death touched it not as what it was it knew not,
Yet of that it never forgot,
For it was the only that was beleft,
When death made love to earth and none was left,
Because when all was gone,
Left was the different one,
When gone was the origin,
Left behind was my mind – The Holy Virgin.
JamesGreen…
poem by James Green
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Carousel
Around and round we go
Living on this Carousel
Some heated words got said last night
But i'm sorry
Can't you tell?
I'm sick of all the fighting
It must happen everyday
But no matter what i do
I can't tear myself away
Because you're mine
We argue
We cry
And say our goodbyes
But we find ourselves back again
Like two songbirds never to part
You'll always be in my heart
As soon as our paths crossed
We knew that we'd never be lost
As long as we have each other
Because you're mine
It's a never ending story
And you're beautiful to me
We've lived the same old situations
And know it comes with the territory
And it's just our way of life
And i need you
Because you're mine
And i'd never leave you
And i need you
Because you're mine
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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Sue me if you can
Sometimes I wonder
what kind of criminals
is doing business today
in the new South Africa
and steal time, labour
and life
from their employees
and claim money
for undelivered services?
The rubbish collectors strike,
as they are not paid
and there is nobody
to collect the rubbish
and still the municipality
charges its fees
while you have to dispose of it
or have to pay other people
to remove it.
Mine workers are in revolt
since from November
they got no salaries
and it’s already the end of march
and some more promises
are made by the mine
that maybe later
fire them all.
A salesman’s sales
goes through the books
and money is received for it
and the boss
transfers all her property
to her children
and says that he
will get no commission
as she is bankrupt:
“sue me if you can.”
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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