Had a very long, turbulent, righteous, and amazing life. I don’t think it’s possible to ever thank one individual for such monumental contributions to South Africa, pacifism, history, and the world in general. But it is possible to carry on his vision and capacity to “fight” for his ideals. That, I believe, is all he ever wanted.
Sometimes I doubt myself.
Every word I write,
Every thing I imagine.
No one ever told me
That I should follow my stupid dreams.
And everyone has made a point
To tell me
How ridiculous those dreams are.
And quite frankly.
They can all go to Hell,
Especially that pesky voice.
One day I’ll find
A manifestation of her,
And gouge her eyeballs out.
The Indus River, c. 1065 CE. The backwards S-shaped green line is a mirror image of the actual course of the Indus River.
From The Oxford Map Companion: One Hundred Sources in World History by Professor Patricia Seed, which illustrates how peoples and cultures throughout the human past have imagined their worlds through a diverse collection of historical maps from the Paleolithic to the present.
It is a valid and perhaps urgent purpose for poetry to speak to a people who, at worst, have no vision of the gift of being other than to make money, slide (or rip) around in an automobile, and to spend the rest of their time before a box that alternately informs them that Haley’s M.O. unclogs the sluggish bowel and that fighting continues in the streets of Beirut.
—Guy Davenport, “Afterward” of Radi Os