They are senseless
sensated spot on
wild animals when
it comes to their prey.

Their swiftness when
they go for their meal
is like that of athletes
going for that gold medal.
Then they catch it, that is
when they realise that
it will be a banquet day
for their families.

When they finish eating
they serve themselves with
dessert of licking one another.

A Cemetery

This is a site
of all the departed ones.
They sleep in relaxation,
surrounded by a towering fence,
making them one huge family.

Oh! Oh! Oh!
What a relaxed family!
No working!
No schooling!
No being troubled by
what to eat nor
what to do!

Just reposing there
and enjoying the
moment of silence.

(By: Mihlali Makunga)

The Song of Cooking

The sword of hunger
snips the squeak of the intestine
which is like a cry of a new born baby.

Cho! Chop!
All shefs!
To cook! To cook!
You must go!

Cutlery jumps,
stoves burn,
veggies fear.

I open the cupboard
with the robustness of an elephant
as I inspected what will be on the menu,
and flipped the recipe book like a pastor
who just lost his verse.

My Parents

They gave me life.
They rouse me up from a silent sleep
just like Jesus who rouse up Lazarus from death.

They nurtured me like a plant,
granting me all the basics I need,
aspiring that one day
They would harvest tasty fruit from me.

Every time I stare at them
I tell myself I will be a tree
in a summer season,
full of green leaves and
full of tasty fruit.

By: Mihlali Makunga