Blog No. 18 – Displacement


I am quite certain that there are few situations more stressful than finding yourself displaced. The displacement of animals and humans has been happening for centuries. It is a powerful tactic in territorial wars. Once displaced, it is necessary to establish new reference points in order for there to be ongoing progress. Life on any level is pointless without progression.

There are too many displaced people on this planet. That means there is a lot of insecurity circulating. I suppose that is the point. When a people are insecure in their environs, it can manifest as dissent, or it can usher in a new kind of unity. It can also prevent a people from seeing – and perhaps protesting against – the bigger picture. I suppose that is the point.

When we see that displacement – as a weapon, or a lever, if you like – shows no signs of being dispensed with, we have to change the way we let it affect our being. We should stop associating ‘home’ with a particular place. Home is wherever your heart feels easy. ‘Easy’ does not mean without complications. ‘Easy’ in this context means peaceful. Light. Wherever you find yourself feeling peaceful is where you are meant to be. That is reason enough to feel easy, no matter where you end up.

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Blog No. 17 – Self-restraint


Whether or not there is ever going to be a xenocide, it cannot be said. What there can be is an extra dose of self-restraint in those that feel they have a bone – or two – yet to pick. Is it not one thing to believe that the unknown is a threat needing dealing with before it has even happened, and yet another to know that your choice to show restraint in the face of this threat is a clear demonstration of tolerance?

When the criminals looking for a criminal opportunity decide to use ‘xenophobic attacks’ as collateral in a war established long before the foreign nationals became targets, the label ‘xenophobic’ itself becomes redundant. A phobia is a fear. Often, a pathological fear. The men that were responsible for Emmanuel Sithole’s murder did not look frightened to me.

I suppose what I have often felt saddened by is that it would seem that despite history’s depredations and our collective recognition of them – people continue to try to oppress others better than they themselves were oppressed – as if that is some sort of achievement. To me – that is obscene. I would expect that those who held a position of power would have used that power to liberate. First themselves – which would be perfectly understandable – and then the rest of mankind.

When a person turns to lend a geniune hand – to make legitimate amends – time stands still for the recipient(s). In light of this, there is always time for a kindness. What you give is what you get. When you give, you get, you see. When you don’t, you won’t.

Life really is that simple.

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Blog No. 16 – Xenophobia


Xenophobic attacks on foreigners – fellow men and women – anywhere in the world are orchestrated by those to whom death is no stranger. Were it not contentious, I would perhaps suggest that those who murder difference are conditioned to do so. Like Somalian pirates have done their particular job before. It is clear when the best of everything is at work. Your culture will decide for you what means what. What does NOT mean that.

There is a time for what is going on in South Africa, elsewhere. There is a place for what is yet to come. When you will stir shit by tainting the reputation of a proud nation, you will receive that shit straight back in your face. South African people are amongst the friendliest, most accepting and welcoming people in the world. They do not hate foreigners.

Africa is not in need of another Rwanda crisis. Or another Charles Taylor. Etc. There is a way to find common ground where the conflict sits. And the conflict sits. It will soon stand. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It may stand, and walk away. It may wait, watching. Conflict is not afraid of itself.

Xenophobia – or the threat of such – is enough to cause a moral panic the size of a giant tsunami. I suspect that would be its point. What is in a man that can make him take the life of another for the sake of a cause that does not belong to him? That aspect would be worth investigating. I suppose money has something to do with it. There are too many people who have mapped their souls by capitalism.

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Blog No. 15 – Undine


Photo:  Helen Ree –

I set fire to an undine once. It broke my heart.

However, the skeleton I kept back from the fire was mine.

I used that skeleton to build a nest fit for a family of scavengers.

Mermaids and undines share the same blood.

Water nymph. Breasts bare, gentle. Tail wet, slippery.

It is that way with a mermaid.

There is a moment in every undine that resonates with the tide.

Fresh – or salt – water, the desiccation is the same.

An undine will shed her scales for a good reason.

Without scales, an undine will suffocate.

Unless she has evolved beyond scales. Then she won’t.

Otherwise she will die, uninspired. It is that way with a mermaid.

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Blog No. 14 – The Mer-maid and The Moon


Photo:  Helen Ree –

That the moon was a space-hopper is no coincidence.

That the Merman surfaced isn’t either.

A Mer-maid knows well a Siren song –

and heeds its call.

If The Moon sent its message betwixt total eclipse and gibbous,

then the Merman riding waves is Poseidon.

If the mermaids and dragons still need feeding,

then Poseidon either lied, or is hiding.

Barnacles are hard for a reason. They are armour.

The flick of a Mer-man’s – or a Mer-maid’s – tail will give you whiplash.

It is also likely to render you senseless.

For senselessness there is no remedy.

Mer-maids avert their gazes because they have a million tomorrows to attend to.

The River of Life runs somewhere. The Mer-maids know this.

They know the lore of the oceans, too, hence their relevance.

They wait – trust – patiently. The Moon knows what to do.

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Blog No. 13 – Hall of Mirrors


Photo:  Helen Ree – www.

The Hall of Mirrors – nee The Butterfly Seasons

Quivering wings unfurled; poised for flight
on a new season of capricious winds
sent to test those emerging fresh
from the safe embrace of the chrysalis.

Driven flitting, horizon to horizon,
kissing at the blossoms awash with the colours of love
collecting nectar, and memories,
with the wild delight of a child.

Time’s flight marked by increments of wonder
on a path mapped by pain, but paved with faith
in tomorrow’s power
to bring dying dreams alive and deliver miracles.

Spring storms shadow summer’s search for its golden promise,
Summer hunts autumnal, and
Autumn remembers summer to winter, briefly, on its way through.
Winter, alone, is left to fend for itself.
It holds autonomy over its numb reign, only.

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Blog No. 12 – Mermaid

mermaid_02Photo:  Helen Ree

Mermaids and dragons have a lot in common.

They both feed on moonbeams.

They digest their lot slowly, to get the best from it.

There is always time for that.


When a mermaid faces her nemesis he knows all about it.

In fact – he loses his head.

Poseidon might wield a trident, but mermaids carry Excalibur.

It is best not to forget that.


When you are cast in stone you will also know about it.

Then, to be free, you must get a good sculptor. That can be challenging.

Skilled sculptors sculpt the souls of their subjects.

That is why they are hard to find.


Eclipses scare neither dragons nor mermaids.

They are immune to superstition.

In the darkness they may starve, they may not.

It depends how bright the moon-shine.


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