Barefoot Poets-Durban, South Africa (WPM)

George Momogos: Barefoot Poets, 14:00; Durban (South Africa)
Mari Pete: (South Africa)

Organized by World Poetry Movement

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16 Responses to Barefoot Poets-Durban, South Africa (WPM)

  1. George M Momogos says:

    Poet, means ‘maker’ – a poet’s action is of molding language into shape. This shape, a poem, lulls and sways, rises and falls taking our emotions along with it. Poetry reaches out to us with its energy, its mood, its vibration, that which the poet has conjured with words and images. The more subtle and refined that energy is, the more it can raise us to the best that we can be. Great to be making it happen…

  2. Leah Chananie’s Poem


    Like droplets of crystal,
    Sparkling,catching love and light.
    Igniting glimmers of hope
    In a world in dark destruction
    Flickering sparks together
    United into a flame igniting the power,
    To dispel and banish prowling night
    In unison lets spread a flame of warmth and hope.

    © Leah Chananie

  3. IRENE EMANUEL says:

    It was exciting to be included in Poets for Change. Our afternoon was special.

  4. Irene Emanuel’s Poem



    What if
    butterflies die,
    no babies cry,
    birds don’t fly.
    What if
    rains don’t fall,
    cats don’t call,
    no sound at all.
    What if
    trees don’t grow,
    it doesn’t snow,
    cars don’t go.
    What if
    GOD is not there
    to hear our prayer
    and doesn’t care.
    What if
    GOD retires
    and the world expires?


  5. Wendy Shepherd’s Poem

    We poets
    Of the world
    Respect and hear the
    Living word of
    Diverse cultures

    Poetry unites
    Each and every soul
    And through our voices
    Cherishes the
    Earth we share

    Wendy Shepherd / WPM 2011

  6. Derrick Chananie’s Poem

    The Shacks are burning
    I am drawn towards the flames like a moth to a candle
    Heat caresses my bare arms washing over me in undulating waves
    The shacks are burning: I close my mind to the screams
    Residents run aimlessly, without purpose calling shouting
    The shacks are burning.
    Sirens pierce the night sky adding to the cacophony, fire trucks circle
    Where to start, there is no water, the shacks are burning
    Rocks flying, a windscreen shatters, fire trucks retreat
    A weathered hand claws at me, help me my shack is burning.
    I turn to answer a stun grenade explodes I am knocked to the ground
    air crushed from my chest
    Tear gas drifts like clouds of mist cross the road, adding to my misery
    Like the shacks, my eyes are burning
    Deep rumbling I am alerted to impending danger I struggle to my feet
    Avoiding the armored mammoth
    Exhaustion overcomes me, I retreat to a ditch, lie there as one with the earth
    Slowly chaos subsides, I lift my head, dawn is separating sky from shadows
    Strange odors assails my senses, pervade my nostrils, death, burning flesh
    Mounds of grey ash an amalgam of lives past dot the landscape, the shacks have burned
    Expressionless faces, vocal Chords exhausted, huddling against the morning chill,
    I pause for a moment’s reflection then wander off in search of an island of sanity.

  7. Austin Ikin’s Poem

    Greetings to all members of the World Poetry Movement. My name is Austin and I am a member of the Barefooter’s Group located in Durban, South Africa. I wish the World Poetry Movement success in al it’s endeavours to popularise and extend the influence of poetry worldwide.
    The four lines I now present convey what I believe is a major thematic principle for poets

    Let the rhymes of poets encircle the world

    So the flag of freedom is unfurled

    And mankind forge ahead in truth’s pure light

    So that all may live in a future bright

  8. Mike Valentine’s Poem

    Copyright Mike Valentine 2002 ©
    Wretchedness she brings
    Like a leach she clings
    This rabid bitch of blight
    Neither sin nor crime
    Throughout all time
    Augments the human plight
    Mans’ mortal coil
    She sets to toil
    The flesh and blood to mar
    Yet we dare assume
    To seal her doom
    In hopes of Shangri-La
    And though she tarnishes the frame
    While playing out her role
    Her might is bound
    And through profound
    She cannot soil the soul.

  9. Tim Sparks’ Poem

    A Message in a Bottle

    Dreams have a destiny
    Beyond the shadow of a well of tears.
    Falling bombs on Dresden render words simply
    In the wide cold air of day, our fears
    Leave behind proud sentences.
    If time stopped with the rhythm
    Of a walking man, you will wander with senses
    Between the broken buildings, a hymn
    Across a blue sea points the horizon beyond.

    Declare the intent of love from depth,
    An echoing letter for all the world.
    And all the waves in glass become stone
    White flags rise from the sea, furled
    With knots blowing like opened vowels; sailing
    Hands teasing words the draught.

    There resting are the fingers,
    Tracing through the earth her heart.
    The sea-wind blows that is enough; lingers
    For the facing, line on line, would we ever part?

    23 September 2011

    Timothy Sparks

  10. Michelle Dennison’s Poem

    Save the Earth – Save Ourselves

    Planet in harmony, blue and green
    Animals thrive, water is clean.
    That’s how our Earth started its life
    ‘Til mankind destroyed with our greed and our strife.

    Smoke and smog from fossil fuels burning
    Polluted the air – Black it is turning.
    Extinction of wildlife and rain that can kill
    Are some of the outcomes of taking our fill.

    Early songs sang of us killing the Earth
    We would destroy everything that’s of worth.
    But new thinking has shown that the earth will live on
    Life will continue when people have gone.

    We’re not killing off earth, we are killing off man.
    Extinct we will be if we don’t make a plan
    Our hist’ry will end, our buildings will crumble
    Computers will rust. Our monuments tumble.

    Mankind must try to live lives that are wise
    No longer be selfish – pull the wool off our eyes.
    Be creative with fuel, explore solar power
    Get in touch with nature; marvel at a flower.

    For the Earth will return to blue and green
    But people won’t be there to record the scene.

    Michelle Dennison
    February 2011

  11. George Momogos’ Poem

    WPM 24 September 2011

    Language fragmented into social words,
    words strung together into sentences,

    sentences with words that resonate;
    a beat, a rhythm, a rhyme,

    sentences stacked into stanzas,
    stanzas that reach back into ideas,

    ideas that lie in a birthing room of feelings,
    feelings that cling like seeds waiting to be
    ejaculated, conceiving an idea which
    gives birth from immortal spheres into

    words which are nurtured in sentences
    which mature when stacked into stanzas

    which live their lives as poems which
    together make up poetry – with time
    spent in a better world!

  12. Clinton Armitage’s Poem

    For now (in honour of freedom of speech)

    For now we have freedom,
    For now,
    My brother who speaks the truth speaks in freedom,
    My brother who speaks the untruth, he too speaks in freedom,
    My sister who speaks in pleasant love and my sister who speaks an offense,
    Freedom is mother to them both, and so it should be,
    We have freedom to decide what we will embrace but it must live for us to choose,
    Freedom to live in the forest of diversity, our minds like the birds floating on the wings of tolerance,
    Freedom to grow the wonder tree of our voices like a million beams of sunlight
    For now freedom shines,
    For now,
    But ever the demon of silence haunts the democratic dream,
    Censorship eyes not only the things we want to cut out,
    But it hungers for all the words and ideas in all our heads,
    And forever we must keep it hungry,
    For now I write, and think, and speak in freedom,
    For now.

    Clinton Armitage
    World Poetry Movement Poem 2011

  13. Janise’s Poem


    Signs of the times
    Clear and evident
    Send messages to man
    Of what will soon happen,
    The earth will die
    There will be no tomorrow
    If we do not put an end to
    This road of sorrow,
    We denude the forests
    That keep the air pure
    We poison the rivers
    Without water we cannot endure
    We are rapidly destroying
    The ozone layer
    animals and humans suffer
    deprivation and fear.
    Lessons to be learned
    Reiterate their urgent call
    Make radical changes now
    Before the next generation is born
    Heed the earth’s cries
    Oh son of man
    For now is the hour
    That redemption should be planned

    Janise Pears

  14. Erica Clark’s poem

    I AM YOU
    Ease from a place of comfort
    We judge difference
    Yet, with each passing comment
    We become that which we judge

    The more you take from me
    With your words, glancing critique
    Carelessly sliced into neat thoughts
    Of how right you are, and how wrong I am

    The more you become like me
    In a dark convenient amnesia of self and other
    The many small deeds of sabotage
    The half truths, the omissions

    How insidious the process
    Each time we turn the other cheek
    In fear of reprisal, knowing the darkness
    The greater the pent up rage at your power

    When I’ve nothing to lose
    Watch the tide turn, untrammelled by thought
    I have become you, your unexamined side
    We are nothing without each other

    Nothing remains concealed
    Every thoughtless deed returns
    Folds back upon itself, gathering momentum
    In the depths of our own minds

    We stalk ourselves as prey
    When we leave the shores of kindness
    When we follow competitive greed’s path
    To our own demise

    I AM YOU

    Erica Clark 24 September 2011

  15. Hello World Poets.

    Here is our group poem video – enjoy!

    The poem:

    Erica: Words woven into our hearts can heal
    Clint: Only together taking a stand
    Clint: Will the world be as our dreams foretell,
    Clint: Only we can cherish our water and land

    George: While stars point out the Earth
    George: As elements occupy us,
    George: Mould the flesh substance
    George: A fluttering renovates the air

    Michelle: Nature restores what we desolate
    Michelle: Employ our words as wings of change
    Erica: We hold each other in a place of trust
    Erica: Each sharing becomes a rich exchange

    Timothy: The world gathers tears from dust,
    Timothy: Silence fabled in choirs of rivers:
    Timothy: Proud duty’s memory of her must
    Timothy: Turn the frost to speak again- reverse

    Janice: Rain forest, oh vale of tears
    Janice: Being stripped naked over the passing years
    Janice: Glazier mighty Natures’ sculptured face
    Janice: Crumbles before us each dying day

    Mike: Tell the world the sun is growing dimmer
    Mike: Tell the world the clouds are rolling in
    Mike: Tell the Earth its chances are much slimmer
    Mike: And tell the world they’d better find its twin

    Austin: The shadow of evil wings casts a pall over the world
    Austin: As its peoples fall prey to self-serving politicians.
    Austin: Let poets write of a better path to world peace,
    Austin: Where rights are the offspring of truth and brotherhood.

    Derrick: Evil feeds, its continuance based on greed
    Derrick: Darkness covers those that plot their cunning ways
    Derrick: Machines of war roar in rage to profit but a few
    Derrick: Death the victor its blood soaked banners now parades

    Wendy: How do we calm the rising roar of blood
    Wendy: And starve the evil of its greed?
    Wendy: We poets trust the harmony of poetry
    Wendy: To tip the scales from war to peace.

    Leah: In this world of darkness and destruction
    Leah: Ignite a tiny spark of hope
    Leah: Spread the words of Peace
    Leah: To fan the Flames of Love and Light

    Irene: A sighing whisper of dying songs;
    Irene: Then FAITH returns to call all people.
    Irene: If all of Earth is left to die
    Irene: there’s nothing left for you or I.

    © Barefoot Poets

  16. Our event went off really well. We met at Erica Clark’s home and recorded our group and individual poems. I am busy editing the video now, and it will be uploaded to YouTube shortly.

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