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Madiba’s’ Voters

Madiba’s’ voters live in a revolution said to be like a standardised selling price but all half televised.
Where begging rises after the baking of bread for bribes.
Where leading heads were left for flies.

Now Madiba’s Voters will you memorise –
How Sharpville and now Marikana were barely kept alive.
After the Capt arrived to quickly act in 5.
Shooting to kill like they still yearn for Hector’s life.

Madiba’s Voters
Who owns the backstabber’s knife, track records rights,
land-grabbing sites, grand, lavish lives and 10/11 wives?
Yet mass freedom hasn’t had a slice.

Madiba’s Voters
Truth be told that on an eluding road we were brewed and sold like our crude and gold.
And in a human tone I turn my food to stone.
Like what Madiba’s Voters threw and thrown.

Madiba’s Voters
Felt more outer within like something out of their skin was about to begin.
Their ’94 heard the sounds of the win, the shout o’ power was louder and even louder the skin.
The townships crowded..”The townships are crowded and shouting again!!”.
Their X marks Madiba and they’d be proud to defend.
“The Great Lion of the Struggle right down to the end”

Zillions of Madiba’s Voters hail the name.
Madiba’s Voters in various tongues from the greater plain.
From Qunu’s Thembu reign to the Peru Lane & even if you travel Spain in heavy rain
Or you are in a gravy train.

In a sick nation Madiba’s Voters synchronise with his ailing days
Carrying hope but no place to stay.
Indeed the faithful saints face a great delay.
But still the state of the State today won’t take away….Their Madiba’s’ vote.

What is…?

What is blood without the veins?
Mud without the rains,
A sore without the pains,
God without the praise?
 
 What is to walk without the trails,
To talk without the sayings,
A road without a way…
A home without a stay?
  
What is bought without the sales?
A goal without a game,
A no without a nay,
The Lord without the prayers?
 
 What is fraud without the Mayors?
Or corn without the maize,
A scroll without a page,
A wall without the gate?
 
What is a fall without being great?
Being born without the age,
A foe without the hate,
A floor without the stage?
 
 What is a roar without a rage?
A lock without the chains,
A shark without the whales,
A heart without the brains?
 
 What is a star without the space?
Like playing cards without the Ace,
A call without the fate,
A law without the State?
 
 What rots without the waste?
A court without a case,
A run without a race,
A run without a chase,

What is…?

Heart Dance

My heart dances to free-
The world behind lenses.
Where the rhythm goes-
Through hidden doors
To find answers.
As the feeling grows-
Beneath the clothes
The vibe enters.
So don’t bruise and brake,
Just move and shake
Your five senses.
And for all human’s’ sake-
Shall it awake
Devine senses.
With shadows bright-
As candle-light
For blind lenses.
With endless height-
To anxious sight
My heart dances.

Siphokazi – The greatest gift

It is never a certain moment..but in every eye blink.
That I sink with you like paper likes ink.
Deep inside these moving memories I sink.
The nervous I forever minds what our minds think.
Trully, when our narative eyes speak..
It takes I to high trips…
Where the vibe is so hot inside skins..
as an inferno’s light beams.
You and I trapped inside cells as tight genes.
Where we flow on pumping water as floating on white streams.
When we meet, touch…the sight speaks.
It’s like scenes extracted from my night dreams.
 
The more fire hotter…the more I stutter..
..struggling to align speech.
As I try each…word to word..with a quiet pitch.
Nervous and shyish..
That infront of you I wish to hide lips….
The melodic silence is like strings of violins.
Dear Queen..you are a diamond..
…grounded, down to earth yet smart and brightened…
…red-hot and shining.
You are a hero’s heroine..
…driving and riding on what’s inside him.
You are a blessing disguising…
..as this temperature-rising..
..Empress of Zion.
So can I take a trip..
..to the place where they keep..
The Greatest Gift?
  

Solve for X-ams

A vital thought of this lesson is not just to study to pass –
Like history cause in life there is no copying in class
Or pages noted with answers roaming under r the desks
But what you give in and out, out of a test,
Young ones give it your full honour and practice.
What could be flipping and tossing and causing the stress-
When we are emphasising the due cause of exams.
Try and apply the mathematics for solving the mass
Or heavy weighs of any grades when pages wonder and ask.
Please relax stop you mind from pondering fast,
Let your mind flow free like pure water in glass.
Don’t get trapped in geometrical corners in Maths
Solve for X and there should be no problem in that,
So you should draw a table of time and follow it best .
Scholars in or not in collars you should study early,
Time is crucial and crucial is what is worthy.
Recap with teachers to clear each of what is blurry,
Also practice past papers in patterns to go determined.
Exams are what you’d worked out term out and term in –
Examples are the lectures presented for your observing –
Put that into revision through adequate ordered learning
Be numb to all disturbing…
A peaceful meditation focuses the mind from turning.
And be certain that what you’re giving you should be happy deserving
 

Bitter Treat

Behind her eyelids she hears voices fighting each other
Without a pause in her silence.
Her silence shares noises of lightning and thunder
Without her causing the violence.
The violence had spread poisons biting her under-
Her brown and sore skin divided.
Divided by bad choices; ‘Why did my father-
Rip out and force me for my things’.
Now there are no chords for her violin,
No doors for her hiding
Nor the law is abiding.

In the core of his thieving self and unsober mind,
Lies demons wicked in unheard degrees.
Degrees always giving wealth to a dark road of crime
Unlike seasons that withered without burning trees.
His trees form an unbreathing realm where the sun is overnight.
With visions injured, he doubts their certainties.
His certainties know no children’s health but loafers’ fun.
She wishes women wizards could come and serve him tea.
And that death occurs in he
Or her death is bursting free
From this man-made adversity.

After mother died, it was father’s pride.
When others pry with wonders, whys –
A lonely widower is underlined.
His dignity is now one defined as castle light.
A frustrated tool with hating moods –
With statements due from men in hoods
And instead of cool he passes through –
To the gal in you to test his fuel.

She’s barely grown with belly blown.
She carries loads, him and his bone.
She has no friends, he cares so less.
She can’t confess, he gets so mad.
She’s dripping red, his sleeping bed.
She isn’t fed; he’s sipping ‘bread’.
She whips it out, he screams he shouts.
She’s feeling ouch, he’s filled with fouls.

Her unborn dies, his son from lies.
Her gun drawn eyes , his non-stop sign.
He drinks his actions, she seeks protection.
He breathes aggression, she breathes but lessened.
He kicks, he bashes, she licks the patches.
He beats, he lashes, she’s weak, and she’s ashes.
His daughter’s eyes are slowly dying.
He orders her life but no reply.
He calls her twice but she’s cold as ice.

Their borderline is crossed with lying,
But their world and mine are both combined.

If I was a thought

If I was a thought I would choose to sail –
On the shallow seas of young minds that loose and fail,
Confined by confinement; in a prisoner’s shoes in jail.
Minds accused to ail as patients of eternal sickness in abuse’s tale.
 
If I was a thought I would choose to be planted –
Root-deep and fertilized in the mentally – bruised and demented
And refuse to leave centred the power of a foreign enemy
Exchanging blows with false reality close to falling sanity
 
If I was a thought I would build sacred temples –
Within souls where hatred settles as the devil’s naked samples.
In your grey thinking matter I’d give rise to vagrant rebels.
 
If I was a thought in blindness’ mind I’d cry for support
To rearrange the purpose of chaos in the life that we have got.
 
If I was a thought I’d fill holes in empty places –
Where colds roam through broken windows to kill souls of angry faces.
 
If I was a thought I’d be no accidental idea-
Built on luck and co incidence, harassed and strangled by fear
But a self- mental pioneer;
A thought of revolution’s emotions in motion to settle right here.
(Pointing to the head)
 

Through dead eyes

As I travel very deep into my non-breathing soul,
Through broken bones and contaminated blood on what my visions stole.
Reflecting the last glace of life from my scarred memories-
Seeing our dying souls dancing to angry-gun melodies.

I woke up before my eyes opened unlike days before,
My heart faced the rage in War, we’ll make them knock on Satan’s door.
‘What do they hate us for? What do they take us for?
Puppets, machinery controlled and programmed to praise their laws?’
I threw these thoughts inside my mind and I started hating more.
The rage picked me up from the cold and vibrating floor.
Then I started making sure that the voices of painful tears were all taken forward.

The sky sees thousands of souls in the streets, an amazing moment –
For Retaliation against Segregation until this pain is slaughtered.
I joined the common hearts very blatant,
Throwing our emotions naked open, about the laws of brains disorders.

Over our bile-boiling bodies the clouds were immigrating, falling
As the stones and petrol bombs were causing traffic-
In the midst through tear gas, then the scene was all dramatic.

After the Anthem of guns, the Anthem of guns, the Anthem of guns!
My heart never feared less then it got more than tragic,
Then I turned back from what my mind thought would call an epic.
Running, jumping over dead souls, it was problematic.
Segregation was winning; my life was getting chased by bullets.
Unable to survive damage, damage got my brains wounded.

With three bullets in my skull I saw the end of my story.
I lost victory and won defeat, so you have to find glory.

As I travel very deep into my non-breathing soul,
Through broken bones and contaminated blood on what my visions stole.
Reflecting the last glace of life from my scarred memories-
Seeing our dying souls dancing to angry-gun melodies.

If I was a thought

If I was a thought I would choose to sail –
On the shallow seas of young minds that loose and fail,
Confined by confinement; in a prisoner’s shoes in jail.
Minds accused to ail as patients of eternal sickness in abuse’s tale.

If I was a thought I would choose to be planted –
Root-deep and fertilized in the mentally – bruised and demented
And refuse to leave centered the power of a foreign enemy
Exchanging blows with false reality close to falling sanity

If I was a thought I would build sacred temples –
Within souls where hatred settles as the devil’s naked samples.
In your grey thinking matter I’d give rise to vagrant rebels.

If I was a thought in blindness’ mind I’d cry for support
To rearrange the purpose of chaos in the life that we have got.

If I was a thought I’d fill holes in empty places –
Where colds roam through broken windows to kill souls of angry faces.

If I was a thought I’d be no accidental idea-
Built on luck and co incidence, harassed and strangled by fear
But a self- mental pioneer;
A thought of revolution’s emotions in motion to settle right here.
(Pointing to the head)