Archives for August 2013

Who Am I?

Ask me who M I and
I will pop, my eyes and
Stutle like, I’ve been
Pointed with a Gun,
Right at my back Bone
And my Gut will be telling
Me that God, is Watching
Over the beset me.

Between and beside,
Those, who know me, I will
Never be able to define
The inside executed,
Cold-blooded, code of
What I really consist of.
I take words from others, intergrade
Them to form a revelation
Of what is me, that is not real.

I Coast upon my faith,and
Delight over others mistakes,
Ia|m not innocent , M just
Surrounded by mercy,
That keeps striving me
To trail me to the right track,
Though I feel like sometime
Life has grudges over me
And I’ve never hurt the
Universe or cursed God
But I find it difficult to
Believe that I am also
Loved like the children. Of

I’ve never had the audacity
To define who M I, I cannot,
Point out,, many successful,
Stories, I’ve encountered, since
I saw myself in the mirror,
I’ve always found myself, ashamed
Of what I uncover beneath the towel.

Who M I, its just a question
I cannot take upon, myself,
I’d rather sit-dead in my
Room and have the walls, closing
Up on me, painting themselves blue than speaking senseless Words
To fill my void.

I’ve always fall short, of decorated,words,
I can explain myself, my flaws, always
Flare, when I am around a spirit, and I
M afraid that fame will destroy me. And take
Me back to the mud-house that
I was born at..iam not fortunate
To lay my hands in the fire and
Resist the pain.

Who M I, ke santse ke le ka. Go
Fumana karabo, maybe I might find
Myself inbetween my granfathers
Tales. He used to share
When we gather around
The fire. I cannot,
Change the world, because I don’t
Know, much about it. But if
You hold, my hand and walk with me
Step, by step, I will be able to rediscover and
Define the inside me. I will be able to
Tell a word, without, shining, and laughing
My shame aways, struggling, to maintain, the infuse Peace within my pain.

I cannot say who m I, M still
Fixing the blister, and building,
My confidence, so when I see the
Ocean, I will not be intimidated, by how far it, flows and float on the ground, I’ve not
Yet reached the point, where I can say this
Is the finishing line, but everyday becomes
A race that sometimes result in pain.

I choose to be distant from
The questions, that makes me Isolated,
When intergtated, the stars and kings
Can shine hard, that even my light can not
Be able to stand in the bright. There is a
Leak, between my faith and words, so
I laze unto my silence that takes me
To a place, that I will work for 6 days and
Rest in the 7day and lift up my strength.
Then asked who M I , I’ll tell them, I am Gods best Made. I am who God says I am. This is who I am


Being young and working in an industry that pays” peanuts” has left so many questions in my mind. Actually a dozen of these questions have risen from the frequent conversations with my colleagues. They all want to move, they want better jobs, houses, cars and some even husbands.

I often wondered what the root of all this dissatisfaction and low morale was. Then more than half of them decided to take on distance learning,” great move”. The fact that they all registered for the same course kinda left my mouth hanging and feeling like the black sheep. “Bcom is where the money is” they insisted. “What have you registered for” they would ask and in the lowest tone I would quickly answer a “BA” and walk away before I notice the annoying look of disapproval. “Well that girl is definitely headed for poverty” they would say as I exit the room.

Hence I got fed up of trying to defend myself and try to reason for my choice of studies. After spending three years in an engineering class, I had definitely learnt my lesson. I can never forget the feeling of waking up every morning, walk into a lecture, walk out and hate the fact that tomorrow you’ll have to come back. I remember the small voice in my head that constantly screamed “you know where you belong”. Then next to me sat “charles”, the guy who wished that the lecture would go on forever. I would look at him and then it would click that I was an intruder in his world. I was literally living in his dream. I could definitely see that he was made to be in an engineering class and it is all he had dreamt about.

I was too shy to walk away from this world. Imagine a straight “A” maths and science student stuck in a “BA” class. I was too shy to live my own dream. Too shy to be the being that I was truly made to be. I feared rejection and the “you are headed for poverty” comments. I just went by and forced myself to believe that I would fall in love with “it”. I waited a long there years for the love to come and instead resentment grew on me. I hated the fact that I had chosen something that required me to put so much effort whilst I knew there was something out there that I was effortlessly good at. I resented the whole system that promoted and supported only science and regarded all else as useless. “Try to phone around for a bursary and see how quickly they’ll hang up once u mention the word BA”.

I now stand to change the stereotypes. If you are not prepared to embrace me and my calling perhaps cutting you loose is my only option. A “BA” is not less valuable in fact no degree is inferior to the next. We need positive role model in this field who are gonna come forward and prove that even with a BA you can still lead a successful and fulfilling life. Next time you see me racing down the road on my German convertible don’t assume that I have found myself a rich man, just know that those are the fruits of being innovative and following my true passion. “LOL”

Reaching For The Rain

Another Monday filtered in,
Enticing, and rapidly racing,
Like my weakened heart,
It’s come and gone;
Chores are done;
My spirit lies incomplete,
As sordid envy,
Enclosed in the refusal to forsake all others;
My heart still has a price to pay.

Then for a moment,
A brief breath away,
From the depths of seeming madness;
I gaze outside this window,
Framed. Alive. A beautiful barrier.
I see the rain…

Its raining again,
Pitter-patter raindrops,
Crashing gently against the dry, thirsty earth,
Crashing violently against my parched,weary soul;
The awareness of an endless storm raging within.

I’m on the inside,
And it’s still raining.
I see Love in the rain;
The labour of an unspoken grace;
The fortitude of being vested on the inside,
Sentenced by the power to resist.

I can feel the rain falling on me;
The freedom of residing in the inner courts;
Who’s to judge it’s worthiness?
As I navigate the threads of truth;
A limited pursuit;
Soul-less, drenched and dried.

Remain on the inside,
There where the rain still reaches;
Quite the words that intend to bring solace,
And clad the purer parts of you in a trench-coat;
Do not fear to tread upon,
The many colours of secret spaces
And stay silent in the midst of peace.

Come out of your hiding place,
Like the umbrella who brings
A yearned for freedom,
Under-written and undeserved;
And cover my vacant soul
Before it starts to rain again.

The Loss

The water spilt…
The sun took cover in the mountains depths
Darkness made his way to inner land and into our home.
The joy that came with the morning rise,
Was sucked in dry by the sponge that rested in our joyful stream,
The smiles were wiped away;
The only light we had was the comfort from the moon
And the candle light from those we grieved with.

If life’s intention was only a story book this thick,
That only allowed us to go this far,
So the pages in our story ended in the tragedy of yesterday;
I wish to own a magic stick,
So I can re-live the former pages that contain your existence.
If life’s intention is that I carry on further than today,
I wish to own a magic wand,
So we can re-write a different tale from this.

Time will heal…
We’ve reached a chapter where such words are meaningless,
Where all we hoped and believed in has come to test,
And only higher powers make sense.
Though no one understands the heart behind the smile,
And the number of tears we shed;
With my eyes closed I still see your form and long to hold you dearly,
But all I could hold is a bouquet of beautiful memories.

The sun made its way back to inner land and into our homes,
And with it joy and a privilege for knowing someone like…. (You)
Wish God could have spared you just for a few more years;
But you honoured a request from the Father’s call.
The peace within helped us look beyond earth’s shadows,
Gratitude for the stories we wrote yesterday,
Made its way in our hearts;
You were another beautiful flower picked from His beautiful garden.

Failure is Success

Allow me to try and fail but not fail to try
Aim high but not yet reach the skyline
Even thou things may not go right, bright days turn into dark night
Il keep growing strong till I find my armoured knight.

I wont give up
As tears stream down like on my window pane
I wont let my thoughts go astray
I will take another chance, another leap of faith
Until this dream of mine is uncaged

Even when life throws its twists and turns
Through pitfalls and sea saws, there are things on learns
Il persist on even as the pace seem slow
As I know success will come within another blow

Success is failure turned inside out
It will come after I conquer my doubts
Break free and take on a new lease on life
For failure is just success wrapped up tight

So allow me to try and fail but not fail to try
Because soon I will reach the skyline
As things go right and each day is a bit bright
I will stand tall and be that armoured knight.

The dying soul

How possible can that be?
How true can that be truthful?
How can that be truthful ,can a soul ever die?

There is a hummer that could bring a soul to die.
There is a sword that could bring a soul to bleed.

Your words can break lives.
Your word can kill souls.
You are the master of your mouth.
You are the king of your words.
Be care full of what you say because your words can put a soul to death.


Singa singanokudumisa
Singa singanokubonga
Emhlabeni ezantsi
Phezulu ezulwini akafumanekanga ofana nawe

Uyingcwele,uyingcwele uThixo usomandla
Uzele luthando nobubele bomntu ongumoni
Mnini nto zonke mthetheli woxolo
Lolwani na olunje na uthando
Mbangi yini na ukuncekelelwa nguwe
Uzazisile sasuka asakwazi
Uzisondezile sasuka sakutyeshela

Wayikhawula intombi yomntu ngomoya
Wamthumela unyana wakho ezantsi emhlabeni
Besibe singazi
Besibe singaqondi
Sizalelwe unyana
wehlela ezantsi ngokuzithuba unyangelemihla
wazalelwa estalini samahashe
wayikhulula ingubo yobukhosi ukuze sibenobomi
sibenabo nangakumbi

sathwala ubutyebi nobuhlwempu ezintlokweni zethu
sathwala ububi belizwe
samfameka sibona
saziswa sangafuni kwazi,ingaba besingazi na

Copy and Paste

I liked this whole “the whole world is connected” thing but with certain power comes certain disaster.
We were in our second IT period on a hot February afternoon. We counted down the minutes until the weekend but Mr. Gerard was going to work on the day before a long weekend. Crazy old coop that one, he said once that computers was going to take over the world but he was way behind on his technology because it already happened but we said nothing, for he might just loose his mind. And his toupee. “Hey Johnny” someone called. “What?” I answered rudely due to the heat of the third floor, damn zinc roofs. “No need to be rude” Janet said, “I need your help on this algorithm”. I walked as slowly as I can go just to annoy her, we weren’t going to see each other for a whole 4 days, and this is just my last chance to annoy her. “Oh grow up!” she said with a little bit of frustration in her voice. Let me tell a little about Janet, she is not the brightest light in packet, nor the smartest but she has legs that go on forever!! And the short school uniform just stressed that even more beautifully. “Your step 1 shouldn’t be step 5 Janet” I said as I saw her ears go as red as a tomato. “Tomato’s go in the fridge Janet!” Kyle mocked. See I told you IT is a bit more difficult than you think. The uncomfortably hot classroom has forced everybody to be on the energy-saving mode for the past 45 minutes, but ever since Mr. Gerard heard the electricity bill of the school went through the roof he didn’t ever turned on the air conditioning we worked so hard for. It took us more than 2 years of pleading in front of the headmaster and in Matrix we got it but it was never on.
I walked back to my station trying to focus on my program but the creativity just wasn’t flowing like sweat on my brow. It’s more like a small river now. Everybody was chilling’ except Janet, man, I’ve never seen that girl type so fast. I typed a small message: what are working on Janet? , on the small chat room we created in grade 11. Mr. Gerard thought he deleted it but we always had a back-up. I saw it pop on her screen. She typed back: wait and see. .. . There was a second pop on my screen. It was from Kyle: dude what is Janet doing, did I miss something? Kyle you are slow but not that slow. I replied: no dude she isn’t sharing, but I can find out. This is where the name John-Hacker Liebenberg comes to mind. Not to brag but I defeated the school’s firewall just to spell Kyle’s name right, he is so picky. I dragged the command prompter of my computer to the top and typed my hacking sequence. That’s strange, it worked this morning. Maybe the system is refreshing again. I typed back to Kyle: sorry, my computer is haywire. I looked at him as the message popped onto his screen. Kyle? Where is he, he can’t slip because Mr. Gerard is in front of the class. I looked around. He was gone. But Janet and the rest are working like nothing had happened. I typed to Janet: where is Kyle? It was instantaneously that she replied: Kyle Uploaded. I typed again. Again the response: Kyle Uploaded. I looked over to Janet’s station and saw her just typing.
I looked at the big wall clock and it was on 13:30. 15 minutes to the long weekend. I walked to Janet’s station where she was still working and she jumped when I greeted her. “What are you doing here!?” she asked nervously while she was turning off her screen. “Where is Kyle?” I asked fiddling with my flash drive in my pocket. “Kyle? He is at his station… Oh ohm… I don’t know” she said. “Oh didn’t Mr. Gerard send him or something?” I asked wiping the sweat off my brow with my pull-Over. She only lifted her shoulders in disbelief.
Suddenly the bell rang indicating the end of the day. As I walked to my station I saw in the corner of my eye Janet switching on her screen and shutting down. And Kyle? He is still missing. I took his bags and put them at the lost and found, only taking his cell phone. I told his lift I didn’t know where he was and that I had his cell phone. Just on case he dialed his own number just to see if he can get help.
I went to my house and tried to do homework because if I didn’t do it now, I will never be done, but the need to find Kyle was too great. Homework will have to wait. If I could get into the school at our IT class I could get into Janet’s station just to be sure what she was working on. I climbed on my bike and went as fast as I can before Mr. Gerard went on weekend; he always stays behind to check on things. I got the school, my lungs burning from the 9km trip. I ran to the class only to find it open and deserted. Mr. Gerard’s station’s screen was on and it was open on a strange program. The only two words on the screen made my heart sink: Upload Complete. I went to sit on his chair, it was still warm, and went to his command prompt and searched for the last program he used. It was our chat room?
The chat room has been activated just after the first period, just when Janet started working on her program. Or at least on his computer. On his Start bar there was one application open, Word. I opened it and saw one chilling line of typing: H E L P M E, JANET4476Y. JANET 4476Y? But that is Janet’s chat room number. I went to my station to find the same one line on my word document. I went to the chat room’s main file and saw 3 messages at my profile from Janet:
A strong chill went up my spine. What happened to Kyle? How does Janet, the weakest in the subject, know? And where is Mr. Gerard?
I went to the Computer warehouse where I was suppose to start my shift in half an hour. But it has to wait; I need to know what happened to Kyle and Mr. Gerard, and how do Janet and me fit in all of this? And the data cables went without a trace into my back pocket.
Eight ‘o’clock had struck just as I knocked on the front door of Janet’s house. She answered it personally but the beauty of the last period was gone; it has melted into a face of runny mascara, flown foundation and the hair that looked like a rat’s nest. “What happened to you” I asked surprised. “You’ll see” she said as we walked into the cold house despite the heat of the afternoon.
Janet’s house looked like a warzone, papers everywhere, and cables running from the floor to the ceiling, and a setup of 12 flat screens on the dining room table. “Where are your parents Janet?” I asked looking at the chaos. “Asleep in their bed, I just drugged them before I did all this.” She said without looking up from one of the monitors. “Nice job with the chat room, I don’t know why I didn’t get them before I left” I said. “How did you get in the classroom?”She asked when she was changing from monitors. “Mr. Gerard wasn’t there and the classroom stood open, and I don’t know where he or Kyle is” I said helping her from the floor as she was plugging in another tower to the mix. “I know where they are, and we are going to get all of them out of there” she said pointing to the set of monitors. All of them?
She sat down on a tattered chair and draws a long breath: “You know the opening line of our handbooks?” I shook my head in approval. “It’s bull-shit”. I recited it in my head “A computer is dumb!! You must tell it what to do.”. “How is that even possible?” I asked. “They got too good, they got too smart”. “So they are stealing people?” I said with a snicker. “This is not a joke, its holding them prisoner!” she shouted frustrated. “How are going to get them back, we it is not like we can’t walk up to them and steal them back?”I asked. ” I’m glad you asked” she said with a grin.
She took a flash drive and plugged it in a tower and asked me to stand back. Suddenly a wave of white light filled the room and she said “Jump in! Now!”
We emerged on the other side looking the same, but in evening wear. We were in a grand ball room with an orchestra playing a Mozart. “Where are we Janet?” I asked. “We’re in the Computer, I think on my dads’ home page ‘Orchestra’s of the world’” she whispered. “Why are we whispering?” I whispered mockingly. “Just keep walking” she said. “Look for the sign ‘Digital Life’, it could be anywhere!” she ordered. “Is it a link or a separated page?” I tried to funny. “IT IS A LINK YOU MORON!!” she shouted from across the great ball room. We circled the ball room and saw the sign for ‘Digital Life’ and we looked at each other before we went in “Whatever happens in there I just want you to know that you… have… gorgeous legs, and you are almost smarter than me” I told her. She just smiled and took my hand and we jumped into the sign.
If it wasn’t for the small program Janet was working on that hot February afternoon we would have never succeeded. Who knew she knew what she was doing? Even if she is a girl.
It’s been almost a month after the computer incident and Kyle and I were talking about the IT when Janet stepped into the room. “Hey I never got thank you guys for saving me you know? So thank you, I owe you my life” Kyle said. “But how did you do it? You know, you saved Mr. Gerard and me?” Janet and I looked at each other and said “what will the world be without copy and paste?”

Until Forever Lives Unopened…

Love came and Love ran
as fast as a violent wind.
These pensive euphoric thoughts,
seemed to have birthed the omen within.
Feasting on visions of the white veil;
Will his heart stop?
But Love came crashing down;
And it was my heart that stopped.
Devoured in seconds
like a scavenging vulture;
With all our hopes and dreams lying
like scattered debris along the roadside.

It was sudden and it was tragic;
It wrenched my heart and it tore my soul,
As Forever quickly faded into nothingness…

Seated at the table of his first touch;
Will my soul explode?
But Love was never born.
Exceeding the dictates of coldness
And morbid excuses;
As distant as the fascination of
a directionless ship;
No compass. No North Star.
A shadow. A smiling imposter.
Blinded by his pretentious rays,
I kissed Love’s cruel counterfeit;
And Deception the mighty ruler reigned.

And I am the one who missed your voice;
And I am the one who will love the one who’s unloved;
Soaked in healing rain;
The glass will mend while the cracks remain;
And I am the one who stores you away,
And there you will lurk sealed and safe
Until Forever lives unopened

ArtAscent Figures International Art Competition – Call For Writers

The competition theme is Figures. Human beauty, creature shadows, unexpected forms. Reveal the figures you have imagined. Submissions including diverse interpretations of the human figure will be considered.

Entries may include fiction, non-fiction, poetry, short stories and other written explorations (up to 1000 words). Previously published or unpublished are eligible. Writers retain copyrights.

$50 cash prize for gold winner. At least 3 prizes of publication in ArtAscent Art and Literature Journal including links to your website, promotion on ArtAscent website writer directory, and exposure in social media.

Submission deadline: August 31, 2013
Entries are $7

See for submission details and to enter.