Tuesday, September 25, 2012

MAJESTIC HAIRDRESSING SALOON

MAJESTIC HAIRDRESSING SALOON 
© Farouk Asvat


The township comes to town
In their Saturday best
To a calendar full of foreign places
I have stopped dreaming of
Where it is still a wonder to behold
Amitabh Bhachan embracing Elizabeth Taylor
On the peeling walls of the barber shop
In defiance of the laws of the land

            "We Do Not Allow Credits Here"
We know all too well
Watching Overcoat Chacha reading the horses
Through a magnifying glass
While hen-pecked barber clip-clips away
In spite of the modern unisex salons across the road
As Enver Notorious
Who still bumps with the swagger of his youth
Comes in
And takes his usual seat rather obtrusively,
While the child looks with apprehension
At the dentist's chair upholstered in maroon:
Clerk, wife and two children,
All seated neatly in a row
Patiently waiting for their turn
Dreaming of the fading promises on the green wall
Before returning to their homely ghettoes

'I have been in all
 The racecourses of the country,'
Mandrax Kapoor boasts,
'I know about horses, I tell you;
 And I know about bets.
 You just ask me.'

            'Yes. But don't ask me for money.
              People don't give you money
              To pay your rent;
              In that I've passed my matric,'
            The Balding Barber asserts
            With forced dignity.

"Allahnah Goodana kassam.
  But Hot Curry got no chance,
  I tell you,"
Junior Shariff predicts with confidence,
"Biryani is the horse for today's race;
  Ask me.
  And if you don't believe me,
  Ask Kaka.
  But where is that squint bastard anyway?
  I haven't seen him for weeks."

'Kaka is in jaihl,'
Mandrax Kapoor informs him absently.

            "Yes, I've heard.
              Pulling time at the Fort;
              At Number Four,"
            Enver Notorious confirms.

"Is that true heh?"
Junior Shariff feigns surprise;
"Kaka in jail heh?
  But what was wrong with that bastard,
  Staying with us?
  But very independent,
  Ridiculously independent,
  I tell you.
  And what he does?
  Gets involved in drugs.
  Is that now something for our people to do?
  I ask you,"
Junior Shariff continues

As the snip-snip of the barbers carries on
And the bright colours
Of another Saturday morning
Pass by in their hustle-bustle
To the cinemas




© farouk asvat


composed 1995 [Johannesburg, South Africa under new apartheid]




[] Acknowledgements:

Majestic Hairdressing Saloon was previously published in:

                The Wind Still Sings Sad Songs (piquant publications, p62, 2006).



____________________________________________________________
[] WIETIE WHAT-WHAT


Bra Frooks is ...
                                []  nes 'n skollie
                                []  'n egte skollie
                                []  'n tsotsi
                                []  a real scamp
                                []  streetwise
                                []  the jokerman

Bra Frooks ...
                                []  praat soos 'n skollie
                                []  wietie soos 'n joster
                                []  wietie what-what
                                []  tunes like a durbanite
                                []  speaks like an englishman




© farouk asvat.  All rights reserved.

Farouk Asvat asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means whatsoever, or transmitted in any form or any means whatsoever, mechanical or electronic, including recording, printing, photocopying, or via any computerised means or media, including the internet.  This publication shall also not be stored in a retrieval system.  And the writing shall not be sold, lent, hired, resold or circulated in any form or binding or cover other than that in which it is published,
without the prior permission of the author in writing.
Permission to publish or reproduce the writings in any format can be obtained from the author.
Reproduction of this work without permission, except for scholarly purposes,
is liable to a payment of 10, 000 ren men bi or US$ 1,500.

farouk asvat can be contacted at:                                           farouk.asvat@gmail.com



[] please check out my blogs @:

faroukasvat-poems.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-viewpoint.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-lingo.blogspot.com/

piquantpublications.blogspot.com/


[] also see my profiles on:




FAROUK ASVAT - Twitter [for the latest list of poems & essays published]


[] and see my new poems on:



Tuesday, September 18, 2012

TO BURY THE DEAD

TO BURY THE DEAD 
© Farouk Asvat


To bury the dead
You have to dig deep
Into your pockets

These days
It takes very little
To bury the dead

You only need:           1 marquee
                                    1 catering firm
                                    20 tables
                                    200 chairs
                                    1 ox
                                    and lots of champagne
Plus:                            2 municipal buses
                                    10 socialites
                                    20 official mourners
                                    250 official guests
Plus:                           Some handsome mortuary fees
                                    Some preparation of the body
                                    to make a beautiful corpse
                                    The hiring of a long hearse
                                    And an expensive coffin
                                    made of genuine oak
                                    with brass handles
And:                            1 ordinary grave

To bury the dead.

So that at the bargain price
Of a few thousand rands
You can have a wonderful burial
For your dearly departed
At the most fashionable funeral parlour in town
Whose inviting motto is:
            "Call Us Before You Go."

Yes, it takes very little
to bury yourself these days

            Because
            "You can have a memorable funeral
              For your loved one -
              For just R20 a month"

            Paying for the rest of your life




© farouk asvat


composed 1995 [Johannesburg, South Africa under new apartheid]




[] Acknowledgements:

To Bury The Dead was previously published in:

                The Wind Still Sings Sad Songs (piquant publications, p76, 2006).



____________________________________________________________
[] WIETIE WHAT-WHAT


Bra Frooks is ...
                                []  nes 'n skollie
                                []  'n egte skollie
                                []  'n tsotsi
                                []  a real scamp
                                []  streetwise
                                []  the jokerman

Bra Frooks ...
                                []  praat soos 'n skollie
                                []  wietie soos 'n joster
                                []  wietie what-what
                                []  tunes like a durbanite
                                []  speaks like an englishman




© farouk asvat.  All rights reserved.

Farouk Asvat asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means whatsoever, or transmitted in any form or any means whatsoever, mechanical or electronic, including recording, printing, photocopying, or via any computerised means or media, including the internet.  This publication shall also not be stored in a retrieval system.  And the writing shall not be sold, lent, hired, resold or circulated in any form or binding or cover other than that in which it is published,
without the prior permission of the author in writing.
Permission to publish or reproduce the writings in any format can be obtained from the author.
Reproduction of this work without permission, except for scholarly purposes,
is liable to a payment of 10, 000 ren men bi or US$ 1,500.

farouk asvat can be contacted at:                                           farouk.asvat@gmail.com



[] please check out my blogs @:

faroukasvat-poems.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-viewpoint.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-lingo.blogspot.com/

piquantpublications.blogspot.com/


[] also see my profiles on:




FAROUK ASVAT - Twitter [for the latest list of poems and essays published]


[] and see my new poems on:



Tuesday, September 11, 2012

HEY! HEY!

HAYI! HAYI!
© Farouk Asvat


Hayi! Hayi!
Mandela is no god

Hayi! Hayi!
Mandela is no good

Hayi! Hayi!
We have a new class
Of boss boys

Hayi! Hayi!
We have a new class
Of parliament chiefs

Hayi! Hayi!
We now have the illusion
Of a revolution




© farouk asvat


composed 1995 [Johannesburg, South Africa under new apartheid]




[] Acknowledgements:

Hayi! Hayi! was previously published in:

                The Wind Still Sings Sad Songs (piquant publications, p43, 2006).



____________________________________________________________
[] WIETIE WHAT-WHAT



Bra Frooks is ...
                                []  nes 'n skollie
                                []  'n egte skollie
                                []  'n tsotsi
                                []  a real scamp
                                []  streetwise
                                []  the jokerman

Bra Frooks ...
                                []  praat soos 'n skollie
                                []  wietie soos 'n joster
                                []  wietie what-what
                                []  tunes like a durbanite
                                []  speaks like an englishman




© farouk asvat.  All rights reserved.

Farouk Asvat asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means whatsoever, or transmitted in any form or any means whatsoever, mechanical or electronic, including recording, printing, photocopying, or via any computerised means or media, including the internet.  This publication shall also not be stored in a retrieval system.  And the writing shall not be sold, lent, hired, resold or circulated in any form or binding or cover other than that in which it is published,
without the prior permission of the author in writing.
Permission to publish or reproduce the writings in any format can be obtained from the author.
Reproduction of this work without permission, except for scholarly purposes,
is liable to a payment of 10, 000 ren men bi or US$ 1,500.

farouk asvat can be contacted at:                                           farouk.asvat@gmail.com



[] please check out my blogs @:

faroukasvat-poems.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-viewpoint.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-lingo.blogspot.com/

piquantpublications.blogspot.com/


[] also see my profiles on:




FAROUK ASVAT - Twitter [for the latest list of poems and essays published]


[] and see my new poems on:




Tuesday, September 4, 2012

MRS SYBIL'S SYBILISMS

MRS SYBIL'S SYBILISMS
© Farouk Asvat


My dustbin thinks he is so very indisposable
Now that he is on the threadmill after the heart attack -
He just doesn't want to take any irresponsibility anymore;
Already he had double ammonia
Before he got the yellow jaundice,
And now his mammary glands are not working so well -
He forgets everything I tell him;
I have been wanting to talk to him
About going for a vacancy to Cape Town,
But he irrigates me so!
Everything is like duck's water off his back,
He just wants to laze around the house
Thinking he is such an impotent figure -
But that is just a friction of his imagination;
I think I must just leave him
And take up with that handsome young man
Of Arabian originality
That comes to the shop everyday.
Hoo! I must say for you
There are so many problems we have.
I hope this hubby of mine has fixed the bricks on the car
Otherwise I will gatecrash into that slow truck again;
But first I must check the infantry
Before I pack the goods in the hunchback
- These days I have to do everything by myself, I tell you -
And my maid too,
She is suffering from labour pains,
You know how these trading unions
Are giving us so many troubles these days
Since the new laws came into the country,
From the time she got hurt
- and it wasn't even at work -
She hasn't come in to work even for one day;
Then my son has to go and get terminal illness at the airport
Vomitting all over the departure lounge and everything,
And to put the top on the cherry
The cost of inflammation is just going up everyday,
We just can't keep up with the breadline anymore.
Shoo!
I wish there was a silver lining at the end of the tunnel,
But these cartridges in my knees are killing me
- I must get some tornados before I go home;
But I must tell you
My husband makes me so mad
I have a strong mind to cancel him
And make someone else the executioner of my will.




© farouk asvat


composed 1995 [Johannesburg, South Africa under new apartheid]




[] Acknowledgements:

Mrs Sybil's Sybilism was previously published in:

                The Wind Still Sings Sad Songs (piquant publications, p56, 2006).



____________________________________________________________
[] WIETIE WHAT-WHAT


Bra Frooks is ...
                                []  nes 'n skollie
                                []  'n egte skollie
                                []  'n tsotsi
                                []  a real scamp
                                []  streetwise
                                []  the jokerman

Bra Frooks ...
                                []  praat soos 'n skollie
                                []  wietie soos 'n joster
                                []  wietie what-what
                                []  tunes like a durbanite
                                []  speaks like an englishman




© farouk asvat.  All rights reserved.

Farouk Asvat asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means whatsoever, or transmitted in any form or any means whatsoever, mechanical or electronic, including recording, printing, photocopying, or via any computerised means or media, including the internet.  This publication shall also not be stored in a retrieval system.  And the writing shall not be sold, lent, hired, resold or circulated in any form or binding or cover other than that in which it is published,
without the prior permission of the author in writing.
Permission to publish or reproduce the writings in any format can be obtained from the author.
Reproduction of this work without permission, except for scholarly purposes,
is liable to a payment of 10, 000 ren men bi or US$ 1,500.

farouk asvat can be contacted at:                                           farouk.asvat@gmail.com



[] please check out my blogs @:

faroukasvat-poems.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-viewpoint.blogspot.com/

faroukasvat-lingo.blogspot.com/

piquantpublications.blogspot.com/


[] also see my profiles on:




FAROUK ASVAT - Twitter [for the latest list of poems and essays published]


[] and see my new poems on: