Sunday, August 17, 2008

97. Red

Written in haste. This poem could be a lot better but it's urgent! This-morning I received an email asking me to add my name to requests for a 'red card' for Mugabe in Zimbabwe. (You may remember that I lived in Zimbabwe when it was Rhodesia in the good old/bad old days.) A Red Card is the card that a soccer player is given if he has to leave the field. Thousands are expected to wave these red cards as a sign of protest against the tyrant. But Zimbabwe's problems have been overshadowed by the extravagances of the Olympics and the bloodshed in Georgia.
Red is not a restful colour.

To 'wave' your Red Card at Mugabe click


The glorious silkiness
Of Chinese costumes.
Gold upon Crimson
Poppy upon Silver.
A crimson Olympic Games.

The blood of the innocent
In Europe.
Righting the wrong
Or wronging the righteous?
The dogs of War
Wearing red leashes.

A ticket for Mugabe.
'Time to leave'
Thousands waving tickets
The game is over
For this player.
Send him off the field.

The colour of our times is


Mari Meehan said...

Your poem brought to mind these lyrics from "The Red and the Black" from Les Mis!

Red - the blood of angry men!
Black - the dark of ages past!
Red - a world about to dawn!
Black - the night that ends at last!

Kat said...

Red is my fav color..!!!and thank God I never got a red card in the football field... heh heh.. ensured that the refree never saw what I did :))))

a crispy hard-hitting poem - generated at the snap of the fingers..!! Wow.