Road sign



There are times when I have company

on my drives to the Green Waste depot.

If I’d been alone today, it would not have

been so god-damn embarrassing, but with

company, on board, I silently and soundly

wished myself elsewhere. First up at a

roundabout I was cautioned;     loudly, I

might add, by the party on board. STOP!

STOP! STOP! Which thankfully we did

as I pressed madly on the brake. The car I’d

not seen approaching on my right, stopped

too and then proceed through. We carried on

and going  down the long-straight by the golf

course I said wondering aloud, “Thought

there was a speed increase sign along here.”

Which, there was. That too had initially

missed my driver scrutiny.


I say with no shame that I let the other party

take over the driving on the way home. Clive

James, another poet, a very good poet, but

one who tells us he is a poor driver and once

suffered a lecture from his daughter which

resulted in his never driving again. (I don’t

think my driving is that bad, though I’d

very much like to equal Clive’s skill

with poetry.) As to his driving I won’t quite

put myself in that category though I’ll admit

I had been neglectful of symptoms —

things not too clear  which was telling me

something. Keep my pre-diabetic count under

control. Greens, fresh beautiful vegetables,

greens will be on my dinner plate tonight,

and every night in the weeks ahead.

Nothing will go to waste. I pray I’ve not

left it too late. It is said that such things

are reversible, and I know for a fact

they are, have been for me when I am

dedicated. Should I slip back into an

overkill of sugar and carbs I’ll remind myself

of the miserable day I made these mistakes

with no slow process, but in an instant

wallop!        Mortality reminders hit us

many times and in so many different ways.


Benita. H. Kape © 13.3.2018


A Country Takes Joy in Good News


A Country Takes Joy in Good News

       aka:  our P.M is up the duff


A country takes joy in good news.

I got goose bumps this morning,

reading that our P.M. has conceived.

And that this happened during the

election campaign, surprises us

even more. The infant will be born

in June. Oh, give me no silly clichés

about one hundred day plans. How

the media had grilled her, on her election

to party leadership, as to her ‘baby’ plans.


What’s acceptable? What’s my choice?

Jacinda’s finger wagging in an interviewer’s

face is everywoman’s finger.


Unacceptable,  unacceptable, her voice rings.

Wow, girl. You were working overtime

for your hormones. We loved that passion.

Let her get on with it, running a country

And having a baby if she wants to. But,

OMG none of us expected it so soon.


Jacinda discloses now, just how surprising

the news her partner Clarke, (possible

IVF candidates) and she received — a month

and ten days into her Prime Ministership:

October thirteen, two thousand seventeen.

The gods were smiling for Jacinda, which

maybe, should be the title of this poem.


The pundits are out there calculating

some new firsts for history. Who cares! Other

than a welcome child is welcomed. A country

takes joy in good news.


Though Clarke declares he’ll be

a stay at home Dad, they make a gift;

it’s up to us to reciprocate, help her in

her chosen walk as an expectant mother

and  our P.M.


“a baby brought up by a whole village,

                                     a very large village.”


Our country takes joy in good news.


Benita H. Kape © 19.1.2018  (all rights reserved)


Sunshine Bridge


Sunshine Bridge


Whose Mad Scheme

Big Blue Bin

Whose Mad Scheme?


Whose mad scheme

was this? Right on

Christmas time, to

hire a skip and make

a clean sweep

of clearing trees,

privet in the main,

which is a weed here;

and climbers

and wandering jew

and jasmine gone crazy

and which for so long had

had control of big

areas of the yard.


This big blue monster –

nine cubic metre capacity

sits down the driveway,

half full already and with

five more days before

pick up.


They say

it is going to rain heavily

on Monday all of which

will add to a chargeable weight.

Farmers, orchards

and agriculturalists may be crying

out for rain: but not me. I pray

for the fine and not too hot

weather. Whose mad scheme?


Benita H. Kape © 16.12.2017


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