Wau

I was sitting in an old 4x4

In Wau, South Sudan
Waiting for my friend
Who was in the market
Looking for a toilet seat

There wasn't another white man
For miles
And I was happy with that

I watched you coming

Slowly, diligently

Old
Beautiful
Impossibly graceful
Dressed in rags

With a dirty rice sack
Picking through rubbish
On the roadside

Bottles and bottle tops I think
Perhaps there were a few shillings
In it

Enough for a handful of rice

You came alongside the car
And I scrabbled my pockets
For everything I had

It wasn't much

You took it
And looked me
Straight in the eye

At me and in me

And for that moment
There was nothing
Between us

And everything  

You continued
On your way

I have forgotten
Ten thousand faces since

But not your eyes

I think of them

Every day


John H Davies
17th IX 2026

David Gurr-Gearing

I saw you again just now

After some time
Although we met
Occasionally
Over the years

But not enough
My fault
And I remember your
Father and sister
And brothers

And my rather
Protracted speech at my
18th birthday party at Old Meadows

I was about to go to war

The important people were there
You
Rupert Barrington Harbage
You know the others
All significant, and

A gentleman farmer
John Heatley – who had been
Tasked (I’m sure) by my father
To tell me he watched
His fellows burn to death in
A tank – at Anzio

And of course as a young fuck
I thanked him and continued to war

John H Davies

17th IX 2026

Burden

Every day feels heavy

I don’t look forward to
the morning

I don’t look forward
to turning in

because I know I will be left
with my thoughts
until I drop off
which recently is not likely

Every day is heavy
because of what I’ve seen
and know

The expectations of those
I knew

Yes I grew, but

Every day grows heavier
because I’m bored now
if I’m honest

Isn’t anyone else
bored?


John H Davies

5th IX 2026

▶️Watch me recite this poem