Dennis Compleate Poems - Ccs.ukzn.ac.za
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##& 9& &?#&&5 55& ',&( (&" !Dennis: A poem for Ted Hughes, catalysed by an article in The DailyNews, 25 March, p.13*ImagesBlack leather jacket, a hooded crowclaws at his shoulder: his stareis unrepentant, expects no rebuke:He was as I anticipated:I am aware of his fame, his shrouded history;we are craftsmen together, togetheron London's Royal Mall by happenstanceWell we must be what we are, makewhat genes and nurture have made of uswith quirky tweaking of our private will That was ages and oceans ago: nowhis portrait, dared fated poet, stares:I have no word of praise or reproof,accept that talent makes strange demandsmay make savage unforgiving demands25 March 2009* http://www.dailynews.co.za/index.php?fArticleId 4905695and http://www.dailynews.co.za/index.php?fArticleId 4903923A Summer Place
Sparkle of sunlighton salt spray splashingsilken gleam of tanned limbsin infinities of glowing spaceall time turned to crystalin stilled sempiternalties:A splendid dream of our timetogether: time never to be!Feb. 12, 2004***Dennis BrutusAgeingThe road, too, diminishes:one would see less if one tried:it is what ageing is about if one gave it thought:generally though, one is contenteyes fixed on the roadcontent to see what can be seenunanxious to speculateabout a possible road the diminishing roadMusgrave,July 7 2008))"!!'& '((&B
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(&A DTribute poem for G.K RangasamyBroad finely muscled he strodeassured among his peershis keenly assessing eyeawarding praise or rigorous dismissalstill tolerant of foibles amused by witshreddly courageous unswerving from truth;now he is gone, man among men, he may not lost upon his like againDennis BrutusTribute poem for G.K Rangasamy “Chief”October 28, 2008Durban, South Africa!" # % &'January 8Luthuli, Moroka, KotaneNokwe, Tambo, HutchinsonSlovo, Wolpe, Bernstein, FirstMandela, Sisulu, Govan Mbekithey were people, colleagues, friendsencounters on the long hard roadOver the decades we definedour goals, nature of our struggle,ideas, influences, helped articulate:that some have strayed, lost direction,some subverted goals, even whileothers clung grimly to pledges,
promises, remembered torturesothers have endured, had visionsof youthful corpses in Soweto's dustOver long years, arguments, debateswe phrased our aims, changed languagesettled on ambiguitiesheeded distant barked instructionssomehow a Front with many parts:Morogoro, Lusaka, London, Dakar,Sebokeng, Sharpeville, KwazakeleWell, of course, we cannot despairmust renew, stubbornly, our hopesand our resolve for social justice:A New World Waits to be Born%( % &'Dennis: "This was written in transit last August."Living under apartheidYou wake up each grey morningIn a fog of sorrowHoping some shaft of brightnessWill flash to relieve your gloomSome disaster, horror, catastropheWill signal the end of the systemTrue, there are those who love itWho fight to preserve itLove its privilegeIts assurance of protectionView its possible end with horror(years later they will profess ignorance, will claim ignoranceand a supine government will accedegreed for power, can make all deals possible)True, they were uncomprehendingThat hunger for free air bafflingThe raw sore on wounded selves unintelligible!We worked each day with grimnessMonotonously each day at dawndragged ourselves uptensed for the daily struggle
Sequence for Mumia Abu-JamalDennis BrutusSome voices must be silencedthey threaten the structuresof seemingly safe respectable livestheir clear vibrationsmay shatter the crystalline sheltersthat encase us from realityshielding us from unbearable truthsbut some may choose not to be deafthey beat with broken palmsagainst the smooth impenetrable glassof lies and comfort and powerand beg to hear the piteous criesrising from the smoke and fire:II:The smooth impenetrable glassof indifference and uncaringis cool and pleasant to the touchlike the stone heart of powerthat conceals the rottenness within.III:In the nightanger burns like firealong the veinsin the brainand at the coreof the anguishedunavailing heart.IV:Red and orange and saffronthe fiery ghostsrise in the nightto sear the dreaming brain
and blast the wakeful eyeballsstaring into the dark:images of terror.V:Red, bright red as bloodluminous with lifeanger runs through the brainanger against injusticeanger against painanger against impotenceAnd red, red as a rosered as soft red velvetred as a deep red rosewith shadows dark to blackred as poppies in sunlightred as the blood of childrenin the dust of Soweto(come see the blood of childrenin the streets of Soweto)red as poppies in sunlightwith their fragile beautywith their indestructible beautysteadfast under battering rainso strong, so red our courage:we will not bow downwe will not submit to defeatour courage will endureour truth will survive.VI:PostscriptWhen the blight of stillness advanceswhen songs and speech are silencedwhen a light of life and laughter is gone,the spirit still speaks and endureslike sparks that flash from silicatough stardust, common dust of the world.Butterfly,
Butterfly, butterflyflitting by my windowwhere will you wanderwhere will you gowho will you delightwith your colourful charmwhile I sit here and fumbledumb ploughboy on a farmwhat good is it to grumble?i will only come to harmCalabar RiverRoll on, full waters, rollfull volume, silvery as fish scalethese are anguished records herebright images flare from dark alcoves:so much pain, grimly recordedso much more pain awaiting record:a President of the immortals would have sport aplentywith our continents bogusry:still full, silver Calabar flowsDennis BrutusCalabar RiverMay 14, 2008on the banks of the Calabar River is a slave history museum with vividimagesDennis: "Children suffer in many parts of the world; Gaza,particularly."One world weepingTo those huddled figuresdraped in clothsyoung people, perhapseven small childrenmoving through the shadowsand into the darkness of corridorsmy heart follows you
impotent, in agonymy hands reach out to youtill my fingers are covered with bloodThe world is filledwith soundless weeping.1993") " 1D"(9 A"DD&1 9G 9D(((((''(&((&'((-'& '(((((((& &&( & %(&JI2KL" F" 12)&75:?(:' 19 &&9
(&55('(&A 79&9/5" !)Cries of Ghosts Across CenturiesDennis: "Today's Palestine solidarity march and rally, from the greatJumah Mosque to Durban City Hall, with around 1000 participants,reminded me of a poem that graces the inside cover of /leafdrift/(published in 2005 by Whirlwind Press of Camden, USA). The Israeliambassador's visit to Durban next Tuesday gives us an opportunity toraise Boycott, Sanctions, Disinvestment demands, followed the nextMonday - George Bush's last full day in office - by a shoe-throw at aBush look-alike at Durban's US Consulate. Nonviolently, we must war withthese barbarians, intent on genocide."Cries of Ghosts Across CenturiesBabylon has fallen, has fallenYea, Babylon has fallenWoe! Woe! Woe!Towers that soared into clear blueare at blocks of stone settled into earthall gone, all shatteredground into scattered dustBabylon has fallen, has fallenYea, Babylon has fallenWoe! Woe! Woe!Now hordes of warring barbariansliterate, skilled in killing scienceshave come, have come, are hereare building an empire of corpseshumanity's spirit roams over desert sandsa wailing of lost bereaved ghostsWoe! Woe! Woe! Woe!
*"9"F9K & "FK((2 '&'9(?((&(& '&* ':&&'&( &'& '& ' & ' '()'&(& ((( (2IJ'(((((( ('((? ((,(& ( &)((9 (&K& 5M"F" ! :Desmond Tutu tells mei am wonderfuli have been a reconcileri have been a forgiveri have been wonderfulIt feels goodit helps cheer me upbut you know I must tell yousometimes in the nightsometimes in the darki find my heart weepingit is as if I am bleeding tearsThey say they made a braaivleisthey opened a six packthey sat around drinking
while he burnt to deathmy son burnt to deathwhen he was a babyhe would stop cryingand smile at mewhen I offered him my breastDennis BrutusOctober 14, 200804h40amCaracas)I/".JD (& ' &( &--9(&&.& '.&&( &((&-& '& ' &&
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Farewell the NightingalesDennis: "This is one local aspect of a problem which is actually global."Walking the streets of the Shah's TehranI was conscious of lurking Savak cries of tortured victims hung in the duskeven as I lingered over buttered long-grain ricein a dim bistro's magic cave:That was then: horror enough, you might decidebut now a new noxious blightcovers over Persepolis' ancient lances,a ghoulish silence cloaks environsFarewell the Nightingales! Song is fledWe have willed desolation on our world.(Footnote: The Mail & Guardian January 16-22 2009 reports, "Crows fleeTehran's pollution. high levels of carbon monoxide. drove off.nightingales"20 January 2009For July 24Once I might have given you joybut I was a stupid selfish boy:i wonder, if I could make you happy todaybut you, alas, have flown awayDennis Brutus –July 24, 2008haiku verse(It is not widely known, but Dennis is one of the leading non-Japanesewriters of haiku verse, and has been featured in the Japanese literature.)Dennis: "This is supposed to be a haiku - almost successful; 5/7/5 beatsor accents - not feet - and should have a caesura after the second line;the last line is not sufficiently explicit. It was written during the
Social Movements Indaba meeting late last year."A single emeraldflares from a dewdrop flinginga green prismed flameJohnPaul II CentreBethlehem, Free StateDecember, 2008; d b.Hopes for a better worldDennis: "There are lively political struggles in our time, particularlyin Venezuela, Ecuador and Bolivia."Hopes for a better worldWalking those ragged, pitted sidewalkswhere walkers, shoppers surgedone had a sense of buoyant hopesurges of confidence, unleashed desire:the broad-grinned ice cream vendorfrank gazed waitress swabbing spills:all had a friendliness and trust:it was good to walk those cordial streetscompanioned by one striving to serveCaracas to Durban, 2008-09, for p.b.Horror is all around usBrutus Poem, 10/1/09Dennis: "written after midnight, feb 8"Guernica Sharpeville Shatilla GazaHorror is all around usDeath destruction mashed corpsesit is all around us: commonplaceAstonishingly humanity eruptssuch virulent excesses against humanity
there is no limit to our ingenuityin the service of torture carnageAstonishingly too we have wellsof pity mercy goodness;we can find ways to heal woundsdevices to repair injury:Miraculously, somewhere, we have compassionHow a Poem beginsYou see a tree,a mountainor a flower;something in it moves you;it sparks a thoughtor an emotion;it is how a poem begins:not in a decisionor conscious choice:some might call it inspirationothers, however, would notDennis BrutusHow a poem beginsAugust 12, 2008I am a rebelDennis: "A 'found' poem; based on a speech by Yassir Arafat at the UN 34years ago. Arafat, at that time, was one of the great Palestinianliberation fighters."I am a rebel and freedom is my cause:Many of you have fought similar strugglestherefore you must join my cause:My cause is a dream of freedomand you must help me make my dream reality:For why should I not dream and hope?Is not revolution making reality of hopes?Let us work together that my dream may be fulfilledthat I may return with my people out of exileto live in one democracy in peace.Is not my dream a noble oneworthy to stand beside freedom struggles everywhere
I lie in the darkand beg forgivenessfrom whatever Gods there maybe,or fates, or unseen hearersfor my folliesgod, what a lousy lover I wassuch a lousy selfish, ignorantnaïve lover I wasabove all, selfishrelishing only my own narrow selfish pleasureignorant of the pleasure I might giveand in givinggive my self delightDennis BrutusAugust 30, 2008Durban, South AfricaI salute the Jacarandas anyway –in memory of Mahmoud DarwishI salute the Jacarandas anywayWhatever else the world may offerOffer for our praiseOr our opprobriumI salute the Jacarandas anyway“It will be as if I never livedThere will be no trace of meThere will be no sign of me rememberedIt will be as if I never livedNo trace of me will remainAll will be as if nothing had been”What will it matter if nothing remains?You will have breathed the fresh morning airAnd walked the dewy morning grass
And will have asserted for once your beingAnd I will salute the Jacarandas once moreDennis BrutusOctober 3, 2008For Mahmoad Darwish12th Poetry AfricaUKZN Elizabeth Sneddon TheatreIn the stupendously complexinteractions of infinite intelligenceI am an infinitesimal cellinteracting with my fellowsin a sempiternal dance of axons and dendritesI and this red oak exist and interact,cells of the central divine intelligence,some of us are diseased and sufferinggradual processes of healing may take centuries.underlined lines are in margin, without indication of placement within poem.*)5"K*&-&'&' '*&&
&*&''&N000Karen Silkwood,Brutus Poem, 9/1/09A terrible knowledgeTo the memory of Karen Silkwood, who diedon the road from Cimarron, November 13, 1974On the road from Cimarronterrible knowledge squattedlike an unnatural monsterat the back of her brainOn the road from Cimarronterrible knowledge pursued herheadlights laseringthe back of her headOn the road from Cimarronterrible knowledgeof a mutilating deathrested with lethal casualnesson her sleeveOn the road from Cimarronterrible knowledge impactedon her brainwith the shattering crashthat smashed her car from the road:they wished her to diewith the terrible knowledgelocked in her skullterrible knowledgeof a nuclear holocaustterrible knowledgeof a nuclear holocaustclumsily unloosed
through carelessnessor greedterrible knowledgethat even nowa few are dyingslowlyhorriblylied tolied aboutand she had the terrible knowledgeBehind herout of the darkhurtled a red glare:baleful Moloch,awesome fireballglimmering:terrorlunging to destroyOut of the darkbehind hera monstrous houndlunging from Erebussharp fangs snappingto extirpate her:terrible knowledgeof impending deathTerrible knowledgeof the guilty ones—cops, executives, agents—who conspired to destroy herand her terrible knowledgeand now conspireto plead their innocencetheir ignoranceTerrible knowledgeof our capacity to destroyof our potential for destruction,of our destructive greed:terrible knowledgeKaren’s knowledge,our knowledge,terrible knowledge1979
Kneeling before you in a gesture Kneeling before you in a gestureunposed and quite unpractised- I emphasize, though we need not be assuredfor neither could take time to posturestanding always stripped to the very boneand central wick of our real selvesthat burnt simple and vulnerable as flame Kneeling before you for a moment,slipped quite unthinkingly into this stance- for heart, head and spirit in a single movementresponded thus to some stray facetof your prismatic luminous selfas one responds with total rhythm in the dance I kneltand answering, you pressed my face against yourwomband drew me to a safe and still oblivion,shut out the knives and teeth; boots, bayonetsand knuckles:so, for the instant posed, we froze to an eternalimagebecame unpersoned and unageing symbolsof humbled vulnerable wonderenfolded by a bayed and resolute maternalness.Dennis BrutusLiving Under ApartheidYou wake up each grey morningin a fog of sorrowhoping some shaft of brightnesswill flash to relieve your gloomsome disaster, horror, catastrophewill signal the end of the systemTrue, there are those who love itwho fight to preserve itlove its privilegeits assurance of protectionnew its possible end with horror
(years later they will pro less ignorance will claim innocence – and a supinegovernment will accede greed for power, can make all deals possible)True, they were uncomprehendingthat hunger for free air battlingthe raw sore on wounded selvesun .(word check)we worked each day with (words check) (words check) we cried each day at dawndragged ourselves uptensed for the coming combatDennis BrutusLiving Under ApartheidAugust 28, 2008Memories of the Big MarchDennis Brutus: The march from Johannesburg's Alexandra Township to theSandton financial district - where the UN World Summit on SustainableDevelopment was held - on 31 August 2002, with an estimated 30 000participants, was an important moment in the regrouping of liberationforces after 1994. I was glad to be part of it, but had to be aware ofthe irony of marching against the forces we had helped put in power.MemoryWhen we marched – slithered – throughslimy mud past riot-shielded copsin Alex, while children peered wild-eyedfrom dark windows, for some of usthese were re-runs of earlier apartheidburdened days: but then it wasdefiant resolution that drove our hearts,braced out feet: now sadness at betrayalsat stone-heavy on our hearts, our shoutedslogans, weighted with irony, hung heavyover us in grimy air, we wincedat familiar oft-repeated lies.August 13-14, 2004
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.80 1:*8?94912(:5 ' &(( 5((H((37 7& ! " "Dennis: "An early poem, circa 1960, written in Port Elizabeth, for a South African,"A" (subsequently deported). Also applies to Joburg, CT,and Durban today."NIGHTSONG: CITY—Dennis BrutusSleep well, my love, sleep well:the harbour lights glaze over restless docks,police cars cockroach through the tunnel streetsfrom the shanties creaking iron-sheetsviolence like a bug-infested rag is tossedand fear is immanent as sound in the wind-swung bell;the long day's anger pants from sand and rocks;but for this breathing night at least,my land, my love, sleep ght-children.html***Examining shaky foundations*When conditions are so unseemlyeven the blind are made aghastand police are firing rubber bullets**
in defense of the indefensibleit is time Messers Makgobaand Mandela and others of your ilkto reassess your gains and efforts more importantly, reassess yourmeasuring rods, question your valuesRespectfully I offer, you cannot constructan edifice on dishonest rootscannot hope it will stand:structures built on shardsor crumbled fragments of tortured bonemust, of necessity, crumbleStructures built on deceit and lies,such structures cannot survive:in the harsh light of everydayunder scrutiny they willnot surviveBring out from padded ragsthose covered lies, deceptionsdeceits, distortions, misrepresentationsall contrived to preserve the mythsheroic mythology of our unsullied causeDig out the shabby skeletons:jaunty Sol Kerzner with his handy 'coptersand that ready wad to shut inquiring eyesthe Koornhofs who could bend apartheid lawslicentiously, lubriciously:Brett Kebble's muliple ambidexteritiesThere is no way to build a truthful narrativeif you begin your tale with a tissue of lies:fabrications, deceptions, contrivancesstriving to preserve old inequitiesstriving only to secure your shareof those same inequities under a glossof iconic virtues and integritiescarefully nurtured to complaisant mediacomplaisant handmaidens of theircorporate lordsWe may aspire in our dreamsfor the Nile, the Mountains of the Moon,storied wisdom from the Valley of the Kings***but Southward headed we may sloshthrough Antarctic iceflows - worsegurgling in Kakpype of Kwazekele beach: ****To Begin: let's name the criminals:
DeKlerk and Koornhof, Kebble, Oppenheimer,Let us begin a new, a clean beginningone true, respecting the people's hopefor a different better world:or let us else make an endand no more talk of human rightsLet us, at least, be truthful to ourselves3/4/09* Poem prepared for the conference on ‘Reconciliation and the Work of Memoryin Post-Apartheid South Africa: A Dialogue’, Nelson Mandela Foundation,Johannesburg, 2-3 April 2009** an attack by Durban police on UKZN students protesting socio-economicinjustices, in which a blind student – amongst a dozen others - was injured byrubber bullets, 23 March 2009*** currently in educational circles, the wisdom of Egypt, and of the Valley of theKings, is being touted**** Kakpype shitpipes: Port Elizabeth sewage pipes emptied into the areawhere black people were allowed to swim in my youth***Take out the poetry and fire, 9/4/09Take out the poetry and fireor watch it ember out of sight,sanity reassembles its ashthe moon relinquishes the night.But here and here remain the scaldsa sudden turn or breath may ache,and I walk soft on cindered pastsfor thought or hope (what else?) can break.SharpevilleWhat is importantabout Sharpevilleis not that seventy died:nor even that they were shot in the backretreating, unarmed, defencelessand certainly notthe heavy caliber slugthat tore through a mother’s backand ripped through the child in her armskilling itRemember Sharpevillebullet-in-the-back day
Because it epitomized oppressionand the nature of societymore clearly than anything else;it was the classic eventNowhere is racial dominancemore clearly definednowhere the will to oppressmore clearly demonstratedwhat the world whispersapartheid declares with snarling gunsthe blood the rich lust afterSouth Africa spills in the dustRemember SharpevilleRemember bullet-in-the-back dayAnd remember the unquenchable will for freedomRemember the deadand be glad9*;**?-(?&-(7&& (& -(&(?('&,*&&,&((5%':&;**
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Remembering Egypt(A poem fresh from Dennis' pen, today.)Dennis: "Egypt is playing a tawdry role in the current agony of thePalestinians; but it is not new, sadly."Remembering EgyptSolitary I walked the sandsbeside the Pyramidshot soil beneath my feet:ageless the cloudless skiesaeons above invisible stars:men laboured in dusty ragsparched reeds wilted in shallowschildren with dark hungry eyesgazed, curious, at alien intruderswhile power games unwounddynastic narratives unscrolled;sorrowing, we braced for tawdry tales* 1?D9 (( DA# && 4O 3 9# && - (5' && &(5 '5 H8O '(1
565&37 * 66&&5 (5 (&&&000 1912 &%(&9 &%, &&&" !Shadow-patterns of leavesShadow-patterns of leaveson a window-shademoving gently in a breezeSuddenly I am seized with sadnessperhaps for the first timethis is the world I must leave ere longThis is the loveliness I must loseOh, craven, will you not act?save, I beg you, our world,find courage to challenge terrorDennis Brutus –24 June 2008
;)9N!'(''5(( (5(('&5(5 (((7 -&( ((5''&&&(Shimon Peres is honouredShimon Peres is honoured by Balliol College, OxfordNelson Mandela honours Cecil John Rhodes in Foundation(on the occasion of Mandela's birthday)For he's a jolly good fellow (3 times)and so say all of us (3 times)INCLUDING CECIL RHODES (3 times; addition by d.b.)Yes, he skulked along all roadsyes, he whipped folks with all goadshe kissed princes, made them toadshe burdened blacks with all loadsdisguised himself with various woadshis gut swarmed with trematodeswe condemn him, whatever bodeshe's the worst of S O D's - or Sodeshe's the robber-baron, free-booter, mercenary,soldier-of-fortune, coloniser, piratebully, servant, architect of imperialism CECIL RHODES
Bailed out by Old BalliolHaled before old HalliolSold out via old SailliolTraded by old TraillolDismally failed by old FailliolDeserves jailing by old JailliolTyburn is the place where he should burnTerrorist of all the terroristsShimon Peres is the terrorist of all the terroristsTogether we mourn these events;together we we mark these betrayalstogether in shame and sorrow we mark these eventsdennis brutus nov. 2008;worcester state college,worcester, massBalliol college is giving shimon peres an honorary degree. d.b.SpringWellit seems to methis early spring daythatwhen it is time to go (fairly soon, now we understand)it is that sprayof jacaranda blossomson the topmost boughthat I will miss mostat leastit is the sort of thingi will part with –or be parted fromreluctantly mostDennis Brutus –September 2008Tribute to Steve Biko
Dennis Brutus: "This poem written in tribute to Steve Biko reflects along interest, including my founding of the Steve Biko MemorialCommittee during exile in Chicago. Descriptions of the towns (includingKing Williamstown) were recalled from an earlier hitchhiking trip, fromPort Elizabeth to East London. Twenty years later, Biko's own fatalinterrogation, in September 1977, occurred in the same building in PortElizabeth in which I had been interrogated years earlier."Poem composed for Steve Biko Day, San Antonio, June 16, 1978The dusty roadsfrom Peddie to Kingthe yellow riverchoking with siltdraining to i’Montithe dust-filmed bluegumspoised and dreamingin the arid airthe parching dustharsh in the throatand hurtful on the eyesthe crude teutonic townsHamburg, Berlin, Hanoverwith their ominous echoes— all these he knewtheir roads he traversed:they fired him with resolveand smoldering angertheir racial hate seethed round himlike the surge of shimmering heatwavesand laid a thousand lasheson his taut flesh:here he planned, dreamed,waged his struggleand hardened his willto confront the butchersto challenge their terror—even if they robbed him of his life.Dennis Brutus 16/6/780009.&' ((
(&&(99&&&("K)& ""Stubborn hopeEndurance is a passive quality,transforms nothing, contests nothingcan change no state to something betterand is worthy of no high esteem;and so it seems to me my own persistencedeserves, if not contempt, impatience.Yet somewhere lingers the stubborn hopethus to endure can be a kind of fight,preserve some value, assert some faithand even have a kind of worth.1977The Diminshing RoadThe road, to, diminishes:one would see less if one tried;it is what ageing is about –if one gave it thought:generally though, one is contenteyes fixed on the road,content to see what can be seenunanxious to speculateabout a possible road –the diminishing road.Dennis Brutus
Musgrave Centre, DurbanAugust 200893 67?"!5"FF000/" & 6&G& 5D Q&) "/ @& ((& ('9 &(-'((-((( 5& ' (5((-77-('((' ((((" /!The New MonasticsBrutus poem, 23/2/09Dennis: "Medieval scholars plotted - or tried to plot - their universe;now Summers, Geithner, Zoellick, Strauss-Kahn, et al have a similarenterprise."The New Monastics
by Dennis BrutusTall black-shadowed cypressesslender beside arcaded cloisters:thus were monastic enterprises: now with our new doctrinessecular-consumerist we bendwith similar devoutness in serviceto our modern pantheon Bretton Woods, its cohort deities- World Bank, IMF, WTO diligently we recite“We have loved, o lord, the beauty of your houseand the place where your glory dwells”“Amen” we chorus in unisonas ordered by our Heads of Stateobediently we traipse to our slaughterhousedirected by our Judas-goatsMbeki’s herds tricked out in shabby ragsdiscarded by imperialist gauleiterswho devised our Nepad subjugation– ActionAid Economic Justice course, Kenyan School of Monetary Studiesin Nairobi, November 26, 2007A tribute to Vanessa Redgrave(Dennis: "I just read a tribute to Vanessa Redgrave, in the January 2009issue of 'Your family.' She continues to campaign on behalf of thePalestinians.")Still her voice is a silver trumpetamong war's bluster, barrage of liesstorms of wailings, sirens' shrieksWhen I was served - for a second timewith another 5-year house-arresthaving come from Robben Islandshe sent me recordings she had madeof ballads and resistance songs(perhaps to comfort/console)during the time of Vietnam's warvia my editor-friend Ruth First,Solidarity in Struggle!Still her voice is a silver trumpetCrying: Justice for Palestine.5 January 2009
Trimly honed, he moved with easeamong colleagues, respectful of workattentive to skill, abilityhe gave full measureto all demanded of himgave effort, energy, workmore than was measuredwas praised far below his workDennis BrutusTribute poem to A.E Lutchman “Little Chief”October 28, 2008Durban, South AfricaTwo poems by Dennis Brutus in CaracasBelow are two poems presented by veteran anti-apartheid and global socialjustice activist Dennis Brutus, in Venezuela for the eighth meeting of theNetwork of Intellectuals and Artists in Defence of Humanity and the World Forumfor Alternatives, October 18, 2008.Dennis BrutusPoem immediately following the conference, in the Hotel Alba overlookingCaracas mountains, 5:50am on October 18, 2008.Saffron dawn glimmersbeyond the mountain's blue bulkmy shoulder's reflection infringeson the window's dim reportSo let some impact from you my words echo resonancelend impulse to the bright looming dawn
***Poem delivered at the closing session.There will come a timeThere will come a time we believeWhen the shape of the planetand the divisions of the landWill be less important;We will be caught in a glow of friendshipa red star of hopewill illuninate our livesA star of hopeA star of joyA star of freedomIn thanks to President Hugo
Red and orange and saffron the fiery ghosts . anger against pain anger against impotence And red, red as a rose red as soft red velvet red as a deep red rose with shadows dark to black red as poppies in sunlight red as the blood of children in the dust of Soweto . dumb ploughboy on a farm what good is it to grumble? i will only come to harm .
moralizing poems, love poems, philosophical poems, religious poems, mythological poems, jokes, riddles in short: all kinds of poems. Within each part, the poems are organized by topic, and you will find the topic(s) listed at the bottom of each page. You will see that the poems come from all periods of
4 kari edwards, Two Poems 164 Allison Cobb, Lament 166 Sarah Mangold, Three Poems 173 Aby Kaupang, Four Poems 177 Jen Coleman, Two Poems 181 Craig Cotter, Two Poems 186 Amy King, Two Poems 188 Cynthia Sailers, Two Poems 191 Jennifer Chapis, Three Poems 197 Matt Reeck, / kaeul eh shi / Coward Essay / Fall Poem 199 Steve
EOS Abductor of Men: Poems Greatest Hits, 1988-2002 The Hard Stuff: Poems Jumping Over the Moon: Poems The Milking Jug The Moon is a Lemon: Poems Poems 2006, 2007, 2009 The Poems of Augie Prime Riding with Boom Boom: Poems A Sesquicentennial Suite Sky Is Sleeping Beauty’s Revenge: Poems Stringing Lights: A New Year Poem or Two
3. CCS (Extraordinary Pension) Rules. 4. CCS (Joining Time) Rules, 1979 5. CCS (Leave) Rules, 1972 6. CCS (Pension) Rules, 1972 7. CCS(CCA) Rules, 1965 8. CCS(Leave Travel Concession) Rules, 1988 9. Central Government Employees Group Insurance Scheme, 1989 10. Central Government Health Scheme, 1954 11. Central Services (Medical Attendance .
CCS Debug perspective is used for execution and debugging of code on the customer EVM. To switch to the CCS Debug perspective, click on Window Perspective Open Perspective CCS Debug (See Figure 2). Figure 1.3.1: Changing the CCS Perspective The current perspective can be seen in the upper right corner of the CCS window, as shown in
The executive summary of CCS Front End Engineering & Design Report has been translated from English into Japanese for convenience. The Global CCS Institute does not warrant the accuracy, authenticity or completeness of any content translated in the Japanese version of the Report CCS American Electric Power Mountaineer CCS 1
MPLAB X CCS C Compiler Tutorial How to install the CCS C Compiler inside MPLAB X Before the CCS C Compiler can be used inside MPLAB X, the CCS C MPLAB X Plug-in must be installed. This process can be done inside MPLAB X. 1. Launch MPLAB X. 2. From the MPLAB X menu, select Tools - Plugins 3.
Baldrige is based on a set of beliefs and behaviors. These core values and concepts are the foundation for integrating key performance and operational requirements within a results-oriented framework that creates a basis for action, feedback, and ongoing success: Systems perspective Visionary leadership Customer-focused excellence
