These Walls Poem by Alex Fan Moniz

These Walls



These walls have the pounding of hearts young and old

Sighs of longing echo past the windows

Breathing in humming beetles and rain

And out lost dreams and illusions

They nestle delicate children's skins

Gently sleeping away their innocence

And the pungent smell of slaughtered lambs

Passions and anger enmesh deep in its bowels

The open roof stares at mighty thunder and quiet stars

Chatter of bygone voices rattles through the doors

Layered in the chimney's ashes

There are still smouldering spews of rage

And mottled stew of freshly cooked potjie

Merry figures dance the sakkie-sakkie, others sing

Musky scents of ripe female busts and amorous men

All through the house old existences intertwine

These walls are pregnant with conspicuous pieces

Of bricks and lives trapped in eternity.


Alex Fan Moniz
'Colours of South Africa' 2013

Saturday, September 13, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: existentialism
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Patricia Grantham 30 September 2014

A beautiful and passionate poem. Walls holds a lot of secrets, memories, rage, passions, etc. Yet it allows us to want to go beyond and seek outside sources. Loved this.

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