The Babalas

Having lived in South Africa and loving my Southern Comfort, ‘babalas‘ was one of my favourite Afrikaans words – that I still remember, lol. Which means in a drunken stupor …

Waking me up is the sound of African drums in my head  

Banging loud enough to wake up the dead  

Can’t move, my head is as heavy as lead  

Spinning fast and faster seems to my bed 

Closing my eyes, only making things worse instead 

Groaning, I manage to sit on the side of my bed 

 

 

Cursing, I make my way to the bathroom where my babalas I hoped to shed 

Standing before the mirror, my eyes are blood shot-red“ 

Jesus Christ on a stolen donkey, what animal had last night bred?” 

The mascara so carefully applied last night, to the dogs it had been fed 

“Never to drink again”, once again a mental note is made, 

With difficulty, I reach for tablets in the medicine cabinet overhead,  

 

 

Don’t want to think of how I will make it to the day ahead, 

Ooh, I groan, I just want to lie down and play dead! 

To pick up thrown clothes on the floor I bend 

Under the chair I find a piece of torn plastic wrapper with ‘latex’ it read  

Trying to remember the evening before I scratched my pounding head 

Giving me another headache was how my way home I made   

 

 

My loyal little people, I asked, in my head 

What had happened and to what it had led 

Neither of us remembering, I gave in and lost the thread 

All memories of yester night seemed to have been shred 

Couldn’t even remember whether I wore white, black or red 

My memories and the day ahead now I do dreads   

 

 

Passing the lounge to the kitchen over furniture I almost did tread  

Making my way to the kitchen for some cereal or maybe some bread 

Only to find a stranger in my white-fluffy towel his tummy he’s fed 

So shocked to see him I almost dropped dead 

“Great place you got … and ‘twas fun last night,” he said. 

With a big smile, “and by the way, my name is Fred.”

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~ by saharasoulfood on October 19, 2006.

2 Responses to “The Babalas”

  1. your poem’s so cute! but insightful… 🙂

  2. Thank you, Bihzhu. Don’t let the babalas get you. Lol.

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