Returning Signs: Shadows in poetic view of urban spaces

I hope Sean MacGinty’s Botsotso publication, Returning Signs, receives the attention it deserves. His work engages with or references various places in South Africa from an empathetic perspective. It represents an intersection between social geography, vexed as it often is in South Africa, and poetry.

His opening poem, Microlight, is set in Durban. The poem is edgy in many different ways. A sense is given of an unreal world, not well adjusted to itself. The poem signals very clearly that life, as the poet sees it, is a journey of adjustment, of trying to adjust.  The cut-open shark, in the middle of the poem, conveys a sense of foreboding, but also signals the poet's willingness to delve into uncomfortable issues.

The poem Alonnisos foregrounds the contrast in South Africa between idyllic things and those that unsettle. The poem introduces issues of language, which is pertinently taken up elsewhere in the book. Set in island spaces, the “breezes of pleasure” abound; at the same time there is the ordinary: an elderly man “swatting away the horseflies” and “the cooks smashing up an octopus” on the jetty, and an eerie wind on “the day we left.”

The many Cape Town poems give a real sense of MacGinty’s skillful use of the art of poetry to, at once, create well-fashioned and striking poetry and his capacity to artistically grapple with history and social arrangements. His poems capture the aesthetically striking setting of Cape Town as well as the shadows and frayed edges. In the poem In Cape Town: In All Seasons, he writes:

    In this place where clouds gather (st 1)

    fynbos  shrubs…../,,, drained of colour (st 3)

    autumn … seep[s] like something heartless, slow and numb.

    what else can be said …/ than the sinking weight of this place’s past/

Beyond Cape Town - captured in ten evocative poems - there lies a wider horizon to explore. MacGinty’s poetic journey fans outward, touching a range of other places.

He takes us to Plettenberg Bay, where in seaside-town mode, he nevertheless is aware of contradictions in the holiday town. We travel with him to LIMPOPO, where the lines, “you could dive deeper”, signal l that we could all dive deeper if we opened ourselves to the ‘smaller’ languages of our land. He writes “The words were in your eyes/I could see them rise and crest”

With the poet, we visit Odendaalrus and “the classrooms as clean as can be, give the dumpsite next door”. Then on to Overberg, where canolas yellow hill after hill. At this place, the poet writes: “a windmill watches you.” These are not just descriptions. These reflect a poet engaging with space and engaging with his country.

In the Cape poems as well as others, MacGinty conveys the perspective of the outsider. In one of the poems, he talks of a wind that “blows the past through you/pushing you further and further outside.” The poet is a seeker. He is curious about things that are “awkward” and don’t quite fit; he also has a sixth sense for the ghosts that stalk our towns and cities. In a poem on the Berg, the writer is conscious of the stillness that breaks and “a wind/cursed never to arrive.”

The poem "Superposition" brings to the fore a strong personal voice, one that reveals a deep yearning for connection. Through the quiet dynamic between "myself" and "yourself," the speaker actively reaches out. It is a work rich with connotations of the higher self: a perspective capable of truly “seeing” others and finding spaces of mutuality and interbeing.

In terms of form, there is a notable tightness in the writing and in the way the poems settle on the page. "Nqwebasaurus thawzi" is composed of four quatrains, while "Berg Wind," like many others in the collection, unfolds in three‑line stanzas. A few poems lean toward narrative poetry, though — as "After the Fire" demonstrates — they remain deeply poetic in texture. 'Sunday Outing', with lines such as “the father then brought the car to a halt” and “(t)hen they resumed their journeys,” the narrative element is powerfully present, but so is the poetic.

In the final third of the book, MacGinty shifts gears entirely. The poems turn toward a South American connection, shaped by his latter-day residence there. This new focus brings a dynamic element to the collection, extending MacGinty’s poetry even as it extends us, ordinary South African readers, long accustomed to isolation and cut off from wider currents of the world. These poems raise the question of how, in living elsewhere, an African native locates themselves. They suggest that dwelling in other places need not be a zero-sum calculation. Rather, it opens up broader, more inclusive senses of belonging, showing how identity is enriched through engagement — in a spirit of openness, curiosity, and shared humanity — with new geographic spaces.

MacGinty is interesting. More than that, his poetry is dynamic. He works with aspects of form to navigate South Africa’s present and is engrossing about how poetry engages with South Africa’s urban spaces.

Returning Signs is published by Botsotso Pubishing (December 2025).

Matthews' short fiction: a literary contribution of note

James Matthews' short stories, written long ago (before his turn to poetry in the early 1970s), remain a remarkable contribution to South African literature. 

In this article, I explore dimensions of that contribution: https://tinyurl.com/mewnzyrj . 

Matthews, who received honorary doctorates from the University of the Western Cape and Rhodes University, was known as the Dissident Poet. Such an appellation acknowledges his work in the field of poetry, and the remarkable way he used it to connect to young people and the struggle to defeat apartheid. He also made a remarkable contribution to South African literature through his short fiction. This article (accessible here) discusses the literary merit of Matthews' short stories.

The Park, a short story by F. Meintjies

I have unearthed a short story I penned over 30 years ago. 

The story, entitled The Park, contains no dialogue and does not feature an individual lead character. In addition, the urban park featured in the story itself becomes a key role-player. 

The short story is contained in a magazine called Ingolovane, initially published by the now-defunct writers' organisation, COSAW.

The story touches on issues of distorted nationalism, the ways in which some political actors seek to appropriate public goods or resources for exclusive use by elites who define themselves in ways that lock others out. 

Here is the story (Pages 79 and 80 of Ingolovane, with only last two paragraphs falling on page 80):

The Park A Short Story by Frank Meintjies

Things have not changed since they took their bizarre turn at the lake. From the hilltop houses nearby, you can see the sliminess on the skin of the water. Hunks of metal and bits of wood blackened by long waterlogging jut out like ugly scars. The lake is inside the park, and as the yolk is in the centre of a hamburger egg. As you peer through the dense shrubbery immediately inside the fence, you see signs of decay and wanton neglect everywhere. Here and there the wall of china fence has broken down, the metal girding with the spiky top removed for other purposes. It would be a brave person indeed who would venture into the park. No-one has been inside it for years, except the four men who staged an armed seizure of the park some time ago.

The men wear insignia of the once-fearsome right-wing movement, although this grouping now refers to them as dissidents. This movement itself has declined to a handful of members. Those who have spotted the men say their hair grows untamed and their clothes are ragged, a fact confirmed by an out-of-focus newspaper photo taken some years back.

Time was when parks and swimming pools were a big political issue, when parks were fenced and whites-only signs were posted as grim sentry. In many cases, however, conservative town or city councils, pressured by a crippling consumer boycott or repeated defiance actions by black people, had been forced to reverse an earlier decision. That’s when the right wing four made their move. A newspaper was told by two of their comrades-in-hate — who had allegedly tried to dissuade the rebels — that the four made a covenant: they would only surrender the park when a white volkstaat had been declared. They saw their act as a beacon, as a constant reminder to all the volk that unless they resisted the gradual erosion of white power, their children would become homeless wanderers in the African wilderness, always at the mercy of other ‘nations’.

People walk past the park and stare. A movement in the bushes triggered excited pointing and craning of necks. Sometimes youth would throw a stone which would or would not be answered with retaliatory missile. The council has put up a sign, in several languages saying: Throwing of stones strongly prohibited. Spectators mostly react angrily to anyone who disobeys this injunction and puts all at risk of injury. Many foreigners have come to the park, pointing their Instamatics and long-nosed cameras at the undergrowth. Many international magazines have run feature articles under headings such as ‘The Last Outpost’ or ‘Monument to Apartheid’.

At first the denizens fended for themselves. They shot birds and caught fish. It seems like their bullets are depleted, although it is very likely they still have enough to repel anyone who dares set foot on the other side of the fence, although in practice no-one has been shot at for many months. They are given groceries every month by the Red Cross and Operation Hunger. The food is pushed through a gap in the fence at night and, if no spectators are around, is dragged into the lavish greenness before, long before, dawn breaks.

At Christmas time, they received food and clothes hampers from these organisations. No-one else had dared provide any practical assistance for fear of being prosecuted for making common cause with criminals.

The state could easily have reclaimed the park, either through army invasion or the use of a crack squad. But the government of the time feared the fanaticism of the armed right-wing movements, who hailed the four last as new Stydoms: “Although we disagree with their tactics we admire them as patriots and men of principle.” They warned that if any harm came to the four as a result of state action there would be ‘big trouble’, and compared the park action to the consulate sit-ins of anti-apartheid activists.

Governments, and times, have changed since then, and the country is now ruled by a black government wedded to the Freedom Charter. Two of the former conservative councillors on the city council — now swayed by black votes — have renounced conservatism and racism and have pledged to be members of the ANC. And the park?

The present government says it has more important issues to address first: redistribution of abandoned farmlands, taking control and restructuring key monopolies, reorganising and equalising education facilities, trying to hammer out a job creation programme. One Minister called the park “a smelly carcass on the new road of a free South Africa”. People still walk past the decayed park that is besieged from within — and stare.

Ends.

The bones speak in this poetry chapbook in Afrikaans

This new poetry chapbook features Afrikaans poems with diverse themes, including appreciation of nature, community settings and the bonds of a shared humanity.

The book can be obtained from Sunset Books based in the Western Cape or by posting an email to newnationpub@outlook.com. 

Spaces and places 8

 and ...

When the Botanical Gardens introduces you to 'dunes'.

Spaces and Places, 7

 

The artist, Keith Vemani, adding his final touches. He was happy for me to take the pic.

Promoting 'A Place to Night In'

I have been sharing information about my recently released poetry book, A Place to Night In, released by Botsotso Publishing. 

The reading of the poems generally sparks discussion on issues of belonging and connectedness – pertinent matters in South Africa. 

A Place to Night In has been presented online, on Off The Wall and Red Wheelbarrow poetry platforms.

Further, the pictures below depict additional instances where the book was presented:

Frank Meintjies, reading his poems at a community event held at the Protea Community Hall. At this event, I made reference to A Place to Night In and where it was obtainable.

The author speaking at The Grail in March 2025. He was introduced by social change activist, researcher and writer Sahra Ryklief.

Frank signing a book for renowned author and well known former journalist Liz McGregor (February 2025).

And then again, others help by sharing their views about A Place to Night In. 

The cultural commentator and former editor of Realtime and Baobab, Sandile Ngidi, has undertaken a close reading of the book. In the above post, he shares some of his impressions of the poems in the book.

Botsotso recently released Frank’s book, A Place to Night In, which focuses on issues of home and belonging. The book is available from Clarke's Books and Botsotso Publishing. You can also ask for the book at Love Books and Kalk Bay Books.

A Place to Night In has been reviewed in Stanza's, a magazine for new poetry and book reviews that provides a platform for established and emerging poets to share their recent work. The review can be seen here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/10R_5JaIjd6IZDWE7E5V-HUZcfVBMBSNt/view?usp=sharing.

It has also been reviewed on Litnet, a journal that is a rich platform for literature, academic writing, and cultural dialogue. This review can be accessed here: https://www.litnet.co.za/a-place-to-night-in-by-frank-meintjies/.

In 2025, A Place to Night In was nominated for the South African Literary Awards (SALA). It is hoped that such a nomination increases awareness of the book, which African Books Collective described as "a lyrical exploration of home, displacement and the echoes of the past" (https://www.instagram.com/p/DT23vQqCvrQ/). The awards were founded by the wRite associates, in partnership with the then national Department of Arts and Culture (DAC), now Department of Sport, Arts and Culture (DSAC).