Derendered - A Randt & Hoisan Production



This is our 24th collaboration. Based on Karima's poem.
Karima's light-hearted poem asks us this question:
Haven't you ever wished you had the power to derender in real life someone or something....sometime?

Poem by Karima Hoisan:

The sky can stay and the clouds and trees,
I see the miraculous and what I want to see,
I have no use for people’s stares or bad moods.
I turn their pages and I shy from curiosity, when it has to do with me
the over- interested and especially envy.
The tugboats can float downstream, while I see whales on strings, attached like kites …. flying thru the streets.
I let the bird wings continue to color the leaves,
while I sit inside my bubble and steam the glass
with thoughts of what I want to last.

Beautifully oblivious, wrapped and pinned in colored silk,
I am deaf to their whispers and bad ideas.
All those who stop like roadblocks and try to catch me, I wipe them away, like leaves on a path;
I sweep them up and toss them with just my lack of interest… derendered, be gone, I whisper.
I hear everything augmented,  but only the music, pleasing voices, children laughing, and a whale song.
Otherwise I have my finger on mute and I mute it if it plays dissonance, drama themes or just streams in bad taste.
Over and over wiping away eyes who watch me from behind, the police cars, purse snatchers and hustlers; I’m blind to fights that break out on street corners,
whistles and vulgar gestures, the coveting of my spending power from shop owners, and the handsome or the desperate looking to addict me, to their product or sell me their smartphones.

Goodbye drunks, who fall towards me; I erase them before they reach me,
as I do hands, reaching towards me unless they speak from some compassion for humanity.
Stress, I turn to finger paint by mixing it with tears and then I paint parking meters and flick the excess over the dirty asphalt coloring it in rainbows.
The clouds shape into forms painted by the breeze and I could watch them all day long.. and whales or birds are free to fly and swoop in front of me while the trees stand straight and tall waiting to catch their feathers when they fall.. ahh, but all the rest.. the rest that clamors, roars, annoys, entices, demands, or insistently waits for me to give the command..poof…..they are

The Spoken Word Karima Hoisan Natascha Randt
Derendered, The Spoken Word, Natascha Randt, Karima Hoisan
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