WELCOME TO NEW CONTRAST MAGAZINE
New Contrast is one of the first South African literary journals and it is devoted to publishing the best of poetry and prose, art, reviews and interviews from both local and international authors.
NEW CONTRAST Issue 202
New Contrast issue 202 is out today! In this issue you can look forward to reading the poetry and prose by authors such as Nkwana Joshua Serutle, Anthea Pretorious, Genna Gardini, Lerato Molisana and more. Also featuring Sihle Ntuli in conversation with Ulric Roberts.
APPEAL FOR DONATIONS
New Contrast has, not for the first time in its sixty-two years history, once again hit a financial squeeze: loss of institutional donations, sharp increases in printing costs, and declining subscriptions. To avoid the possible discontinuation of New Contrast we are urgently appealing to you for help by buying a subscription or by making a donation.
The National Poetry Prize Winners for 2022!
Congratulations to our three winners:
1st — Stuart Payne – Words for Dia!Kwain
2nd — Fiona Zerbst – House in Kalk Bay
3rd — Nicole Thackwray – The Billboard
LATEST BLOG POST
Akonta Sekan by Priscilla Adipa
Aba teetered between sleep and waking. Each time she drifted off, a bark or a croak or the rumble of a car rushing past roused her, so that again, she counted her breath – to not only slow it down, but also to distract herself from her thoughts, which whirled and collided like balls in a lottery machine.
Ameva
Mthunzikazi A. Mbungwana
ndogquma ubuze bukaMama
UMama wogquma ubuze bukaMakhulu
bandithwesa ubugqi bokuchopha phezu kwameva angcuthayo
uMakhulu akophi naye wafundiswa nguMakhulu kaMakhulu
UTata usenkcochoyini
uxhathise ngebhayibhile
UTamkhulu zange abekho
naleyo ayithethwa.
(New Contrast issue 195)
Anxiety
Zeenit Jacobs
Resting on heaps of countless
paperwork like unsteady skyscrapers,
hidden deep in the thick repositories
of a compressed and dense mind…
Like a jumper straddling the boundary
of an infinitely high point that descends
into a void of blackened eyeholes
and fissures of pale cerebral folds…
A voice from inside a queer mind,
where gears shaped like ticking clocks
are split over a stretched psyche…
It pings through placidity like a
cold rusty knife, it moves faster
than a pulsing and red-hot vessel.
(New Contrast issue 196)
’n Wind
Breyten Breytenbach
’n wind ruk oor die see
bote pluk aan hul tome
en runnik verskrik
(die see se nekhare rys)
die eerste druppels loop verby
soos ’n skelm kat in die gang
en pis in die hoekie
(Issue 2, Autumn 1961)