archive - issue 20

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  • A vision of nothing

    By Ross Fleming
    I am oddly contentjust riding round insmall circles vocalisingvague unwords at myselfmy fairy wheels semireliably affixed by mysometimes present fatherand the bullies all offelsewhere
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    • WRITING
  • The work series Aesthetics of Security derives from a longer stay in Johannesburg, South Africa. The city has still one of the highest crime
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    • AUDIOVISUAL
  • Chicken

    By Karen Jennings
    That was where we saw the chicken being eaten by another. It had been hit by a car, that first one. The second, coming
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    • POETRY
  • Cosmo's Return

    By Frank Meintjies
    Cosmo was released from prison after three years. Talent, called such because he was a former soccer player of great renown, met him for
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    • WRITING
  • I have discovered I prefer to walk with it tucked safely beneath my descending aorta – to me, it is the last bit of comfort
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    • WRITING
  • Escaping the Grid

    By Martin Gantman
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    • AUDIOVISUAL
  • Happiness

    By fabio sassi
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    • AUDIOVISUAL
  • How Are You Brother? Amen.

    By Mapule Mohulatsi
    How Are You Brother? Amen. It was 4p.m when the yellow van arrived, and I was glad. The Sunday breeze was slightly tinged with
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    • WRITING
  • If one were to look

    By Sheikha A.
    If one were to look backon how the present resulted,there would be a track of wheelson the throat of kindness. Forthe lump that shrivelled
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    • WRITING
  • The future of Africa does not belong to obsessions with power and sloganeering like “Down with the West, down with the detractors, down with
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    • WRITING
  •  “dubula lenja!”splattering all over the lens, SABC news crew left bewildered, his words were so violent that they hurt delivered with such a ferocity
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    • WRITING
  • Pepi's Awakening

    By Ahmed Patel
    When Pepi awoke from what she thought was a short nap, she was surprised to see what appeared to be a thick layer of
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    • WRITING
  • Peripheral

    By Jo-Ann Bekker
    She pays attention but she doesn’t see. She has an astigmatism her contact lenses don’t correct. She can’t use her camera properly, can’t see
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    • WRITING
  • Sawubona

    By Sihle Ntuli
    literally translated to mean ‘i see you’   following with the eye  the stream filling mind with water  with this in mind as a
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    • WRITING
  • Soentjie's Song

    By Denise Y. Fielding
    1 The drought was grievous.   It clung to men’s hearts and hung from their faces.   Silence lay heavy.   No chirp of crickets.   No bird
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    • WRITING
  • 1 Charity remains the most violent And lasting Form of colonialism.   2 No gift comes without A future request.   3 When people
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    • WRITING
  • One – She wore her nakedness too well, it scared me. Two – Her breasts were a monument; a single one covered my universe whole - it
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    • WRITING
  • The Art of Aldous

    By Lumumba Mthembu
    Fool? Nutter? Brucker? Thus I have been christened. It will have to do; it might as well have been any other way. However, a
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    • WRITING
  • Winner of the Deon Hofmeyr creative writing prize1. If there’s one thing I hate most it’s being interrupted mid-beer. I’m sitting outside at MaBliksem’s
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    • WRITING
  • An elaborate classical Roman arch frames Raphael's School of Athens (1509-1510), behind which three more arches advance towards a vanishing point; focusing the viewer's
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    • WRITING
  • Watching the Sky

    By Karen Fitzgerald
    Vision is a wide-reaching concept. With this piece, I'm merging the physical/literal idea of vision, (as in seeing) with the idea of en-visioning. Watching
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    • AUDIOVISUAL
Tuesday, 28 March 2017 08:09

Ten honest thoughts on why i left her

By 
One – She wore her nakedness too well, it scared me.

Two – Her breasts were a monument; a single one covered my universe whole - it terrified me.

Three – Maybe if she was less beautiful I would have stayed.

Four – She was the type of woman Papa warned me about:

“The woman you’d never imagine squints on a toilet seat,” he said.

“You will never make a wife of her” 

“Find you an ugly one, boy”

 Five – They told me beautiful women have appetites of hearses, they will eat you!

 I believed them.

  Six – She had a stillness of a stiff drink, no bubble about her, no foam, no froth, almost harmless she looked. A quiet confidence, a sure poise, damn near vulgar. But God knows they drown in her!

Seven – One night I dreamt her drawing chalk outlines on my bed.

  Eight – I hate her phenomenal!

“...the reach of her arms, the stride of her step, the curl of her lips…”

I’m scared one day my son will admire her more than he does his father.

 Nine – I swear I’m not weak, she is just too strong.

  Ten – When my universe swells I will look for her, only then.

  Eleven – She never could fit in the clot of my shadow,

There was always too much manic and quake about her,

she never could keep still!

Her hips always seemed to stray beyond the shed I had built for her.

 Twelve – She told always told me she wanted me,

But how do you love a woman who does not need you?

How do you hold a woman who has enough reach to hug herself?

 

 

 
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