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  Nov 2019 Allison
Spencer Dennison
A gentleman is not brutal,
but he will prove all vendettas futile.
He is not immune to bullet, fist or blade
but any insult raised against him
will be met with a blockade.
He is stoic, but still smiles,
cracking his face open without reserve
for a friend, to calm, to a foe, to unnerve.
A gentleman dresses his best,
whether it Vans and sweater, or tie and vest.
No-one is beneath his attention
he gifts compliments quite often,
but when a man puts a hand on him,
that man goes home in a coffin.

No matter his orientation,
he respects every inclination,
He holds the door
the same way he strikes true,
every time.
He knows his weapon well,
but in blood, he doesn't buy nor sell.
He knows the time to fight
but of violence, he makes no light.
He respects every man,
every woman,
every child...
But,
if his family is ever hurt
and this one renders apologies inert
then they shall receive only
a box and a white shirt.
  Nov 2019 Allison
Pagan Paul
.
I thought of you the other day,
saw your face and kindly laughed.
Remembering how we used to play,
and cried at the times now passed.

The clock ticks, and tocks.
But strangely with no sound.
There is a timely silence,
now that you are not around.
My heart aches and cries,
but strangely without a tear.
There is a brutal loneliness,
now that you are not here.

Do you ever think of me,
see my face and kindly smile?
Lose yourself in my memory,
and linger on the thought awhile?



© Pagan Paul (2016)
.
  Nov 2019 Allison
JeanlBouwer
A father, keeping up with the pace
Mother, applying makeup and mace
Son, competing in most important race
Daughter, content in lover’s embrace

Manager, profit earner, best company man
Beautiful and glamorous, archetypal woman
Athlete, top scholar and paper boy
Sweet sixteen now, this beautiful toy

All, a sublime rhyme

Man, estranged from family
Woman, battered so fiercely
Drug overdose, happen so easily
In her girlfriend’s arms, so happily

Family monarch, reduced to slave
Precious, caring, loving, now so brave
The candidate for the top, fighting the grave
Beautiful, innocent, naive, in girlfriend’s arms, so safe

Where, did we go wrong?
  Nov 2019 Allison
JeanlBouwer
When is the final round?
         Conception Semesters Birth
         Sit Crawl First step
         Crèche Primary Secondary
         Bachelors Honours Masters
         Junior Senior Manager
         Lust Love Family
         Unemployed Gainful Pension
         Plan Experience Memory  
                         ∞
When is the final round?
         Field Farm Fort
         Tack Gravel Tar road
         Rural Remote Urban
         Wood Rock Concrete jungle
         Developing Established Revitalization
         White Multi racial Black
         Conservative Liberal Decadent
         Pretoria Tshwane Tshwane Metro
                        ∞
When is the final round?
         Bushmen Dutch British
         Colony Union Republic
         Native Settlers Previously disadvantaged
         Undiscovered Developed Commercial
         Subsistence Commercial Corporation
         Oppressed Equal Masters
         Apartheid Democracy Socialistic rule
         Logical Confused Insane
We decide when the fianl round begins.
  Nov 2019 Allison
Devin Ortiz
Devilish blue eyes, frozen gaze.
Influencing me against my will,
Submitting into dropping defenses.
Overcome with an inability to escape,
I become bound by those piercing eyes.

Sapping once kinder thoughts,
Replaced by detached isolation.
Shuttering at the crack of the whip,
Blindly I walk to death.
Carved flesh ammunition against
You, weakness exposed.

Lacerations to the heart exchanged,
Milky fog clouds my oppressor.
Pieces held together by hatred,
One blow away from cracking.
Further into broken self.
All freedoms come at a cost.
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