You are here: Home / Archives for Freestyle

Nelson Mandela

NELSON MANDELA
1918 – 2013
R.I.P.

From the bare footed cradle, your youth spent in pain, you grew from the shame imposed by oppressors and rose to reign.

Devoting your life to the country you loved, you suffered affliction directing us above our failures and fear.

The children of poverty, the sick and the lame became your flock when you had finished the game.

Now a nation mourns… – forever your eyes have finally closed, – father of a nation, maker of peace; your time had come for eternal rest.

Leonard Kotze.

Alone In The Rain

I thought it would be a day like any other
The beginning of the routine where you weren’t home
I’ve learned it all by heart
Two days you were at home I could see you through the windows
Five days you would leave only to return hours later

Nature was pouring down from the heavens
The soft rain washing through my coat
I knew that I would be nice and clean for you after it all
You surprised me when you loaded me into the car,
I looked at you with excitement as I wagged my tail

You haven’t looked my way once
A strange expression you had, I was yet to learn
You stopped the car suddenly and I fell off the back seat
The door suddenly opened and you pulled me out
In the rain once more I watched you drove off

I looked around and had no idea where I was
I stayed where I was, hoping you would return
It was raining harder and I could hear cars coming closer
I wagged my tail once more, thought you came back
Bright lights blinded me for a brief moment

I heard a squeaking sound and felt something hard as everything went black
I woke up and my whole body burned with pain
I couldn’t move and wished I was back home
Gentle hands moved over my body and the pain faded briefly
Deep within I felt relaxed and cared, all in the face of a stranger

Hunger

Bloated tummies filled with air
Rumbled like distant thunder.
Pangs as sharp as knives,
Turned deeper and deeper
Like screws being drilled into wood.

Winter Is Coming

Life is like a story book, and you are the writer.
We all dream – if not secretly.
How we want our lives to play out.
Journey taken, hearts broken and that ever after we all seek.
Meaning of our souls… the reason for living!

On the darkest night, the mists covered the lonely fields.
The footsteps on the ground were slow and silent.
In the distance a flickering light broke the unbarring darkness.
Wild and free but something was haunting from the distant plane.

A soul Crying for comfort.
A howl to the full moon.
Lost, extinct and forgotten like a camp fire story.
Whispers of long ago, sealed in the fate of time.
Footsteps long ago disappeared.
The imprints of the journey left unsealed.
Where are we headed?

When the Mockingbird stopped singing

Among a parcel of it’s beautiful fellows,
A Forest filled with all things unique and special,
The Mockingbird was always mimicking their sounds.
A tweet, a croak,
A chirp, a laugh,
A faultless tune that belonged to another,
From Sunrise to Sunset,
A constant Sprite, that fought it’s nemisis Sadness alone
No tune of it’s own,
No voice of it’s own
At times annoying those that it copies.
One always sure to hear one’s own voice when old Mockingbird was there.
Then one day,
The sun rose to silence,
The wind blew without tune,
The Forest had lost it’s joy,
As they looked and saw Mockingbird’s nemesis Sadness, standing over it’s body.

Accident prone

Awkward faces, reckless pacing, steadily jaded, heavily laden with , complex burdens.Quake quick youre shaken, no horns are raging, disturbed concentration.Dazed and dazzled by a melodic tangle cars crashing , death is dashing , dirt and ashes pain is numbing peace is granted.Hearts are singing praise while mourning, eyes weeping , smiles and laughter , life is funny and hugs are handy. I need brandy to feel dandy a child wants candy , its all candid the soul is branded.
Foresight blurry , visions vivid tarnish then vanish , days continue consumed with inniu in a sterile milieu, minds quell , hearts dwell , eyes tell stories gory . Blame the sorry tame the fury, life is scary do not scurry .

Apollo

He looked at me with deep set eyes.
His bow line pulled to a vibration.
Never have I met such a person. Even if he was a god.

Many called him a ‘lesser” god because of his devotion towards poetry and music.
Never has anyone seen him as the god who keeps us all alive.
The warm, yellow sun is his burning to please us, mere humanity, with his presence.

He once showed himself to me, a mere mortal.
He was enveloped in a halo of yellow light.
He walked towards me on his sandals made of mere goat’s leather.
His humbleness was penetrating my heart.
He wore an insignificant ivory white tunic.
His body was glimmering, but it was not as impressive as the other god’s.
On his back, in gold and silver, a bound book of poetry.
Handwritten in silver ink.

In his hands were a wood bow, with fine, gentle insignias of suns and words.
A quiver of arrows, each with a white feather of pure truth attached to it.
If he has to use violence, he will do so with dignity.
He walked towards me once more, I looked in pure astonishment.
He changed shape.

He was now in a pair of blue jeans,
A pair of black and white sneakers
And a red and blue check shirt.
He looked like a normal person.
He wore reading glasses.
Like a normal person.

The bow and arrow still in his hands,
He shot a single shot into the man behind me,
A gun in his hands, he was about to kill me.

My own poetry book in front of me,
A single line in silver,
“Don’t stop writing, it helped me in life.
Sincerely, Apollo.”

You’re More

I remember how their words used to mould me,

Their comments would control me, scold me.

I was tired of being that boy that everybody ran away from when we were in a line, that’s why the thought occurred to me maybe I wasn’t supposed to be in line, maybe, just maybe I was supposed to be out of line…

I will never forget the day when I was at my lowest, knife to wrist, when something, somewhere; some celestial being gave me 2 words. “You’re more.” Those two words made me realise that the true revenge is for me is to torture my enemies with one simple concept: Them having to watch me succeed. I decided that they would have no choice but to watch me be somebody, I decided that that lonely, awkward misunderstood boy who everybody used to run away from, tease ,humiliate , hurt , push , shove, shout at would be their hope. So I would go everyday behind my smile, it was precious to me, it was golden. I decided to live every day , the sun was my limelight , I danced , I would dance even when the audience walked away .Still I would dance, harder, faster , knowing someday, one day… they’d stay. But the crowd was so harsh, they tore me apart called me names, but all I heard was the roar, them asking for more, I suppose I was tired, tired of crying, It’s not easy, too dramatic ! I wanted those scenes to stay on the stage, they didn’t. it’s never easy but I know that I’ll never be faced with something I cannot handle .It’s tough, so tough, I still dance, so hard, so strong, I dance for that boy, maybe he’ll be still, he’s a baby crying, wailing but I’m going to dance I taught him to dance but I suppose that boy is still in there he’s still crying, but at least he isn’t dying. I’ve realised that I can only wipe the tears away by dancing, harder, faster, stronger, and longer so the world can see. There are two words, to remind that sad, hurt, teased lonely boy,

“You’re more.”

The Fame: A dark truth

I’m so tired; I’m tired of and living in a world where I’m not allowed,

Tired of getting up every day having to pretend I’m comfortable when the limelight is so hot, it burns me. Having to pretend I’m just another brick in the wall just so you can feel comfortable in the plain world you’re living in. it’s what I crave its security, fame: my security.

Where’s the jazz the lights, the audience, my audience where are they! They’re waiting for me to get out there, to be a star to wow the crowd but the truth is I’ll never feel their ovation. They scream, so loud but I’m deaf, deaf to the fact that I’m theirs. I’m the star, not a human being. I need to stop crying. I’m living the dream I’ve done it. I’m finally there, theirs. I asked for this life begged prayed, it’s finally here but why are there so so so very many tears. I need to get out there, push on, because it’s live, I’m alive.

TRUTH versus ILLUSION

Hmm!!!
Whose territory is this that I have landed upon?
Bad odours of lack decorating the sky,
Global eruptions of unfertile soil birthed on the map of Earth.
Conformed mindsets exuding a stink of non-renewed attitudes have
Sunken into the swamp of poverty.
Hope has gone missing; witnesses have lost their wit
The descent of heavenly riches has ceased.

The economy tumbles down the highway
Stumbling with every attempt of reaching the clouds.
Captives ensnared in the slough have failed to believe,
Relinquished on speaking the treasures into life
All because someone called Situation silenced them.
They adopted a withered belief; their lips gave birth to contaminated words
Accompanied with their gruesome breath as evidence of hunger.
Circumstance who are you to illegally possess their faith!

My goodness! Is this reality!
Anorexia has won the title of new skinny.
The latest face of heaven is Makeup.
Pretty princesses have sold in to lies,
Traded their beauty that truly radiated from what lies beneath
For a fantasy compiled of illusion; tears are their silent lullaby.
They awaken themselves with traces of salt on their cheeks,
Attempting to dehydrate their bodies hoping they would shrink
Into the size zero model pants.

Their footsteps on the ground bring out a wail from mother Earth
As they sow their hurts unto her,
Exerting all force to keep internal wounds suppressed under their feet
To remain invisible to the naked eye of the world.
Eliminating their unacceptable self according to worldly scales,
All because media deemed them not worth the beauty title.
Child, were you not affirmed at conception as the best pottery?
Entertainment industry, who are you to illicitly possess their crown!

Now this is trickery at its best!
Sheep have transformed into goats,
Shed their skin layers, bleached out their skin colour
To exclude themselves from the connotations of dark pigmentation.
Since when has the potter painted his pottery and made a distinction
That black shall be of less value than white.
If deception is black and you thought it looked like you,
Then your thought process was quite compromised.

Clarity has disclosed that you are the light but
Deception duped you and rendered your thoughts deceitful
You assessed your external self carnally and compared it to his
You glanced bitterly at yourself when truth is you’d been declared salty.
A difference in complexions meant not that
Your light was dimmer or that his was brighter
Goats created lines between colours, but Peace is colour-blind and his love is undivided.
Racism who on kingdom-come are you to steal unity from humanity!

This deteriorating earthly suit I wear blazes
With affection for Greed, the number one enemy.
One-night-stands with over-indulgence in strong spirits,
Raising ghosts of a cirrhotic liver; years of huffing and puffing out
Smoke like a chimney, oblivious to the balloons popping in my airbags;
Bugs find it attractive, STIs want it punished, cancer wants it murdered,
Crime wants it imprisoned, storms want it ravaged, and rage wants it to explode.
Flesh why do you encourage my downfall?

Seduction has disguised itself with an aroma of innocence
Waiting to entice the flesh-led into its claws,
Even the elite are lured into the tug of war between good and evil
Gradually being conditioned to believe
In the impossibilities of resisting Lust;
Grooms unfaithfully satisfy desires hidden in their dungeons
Brides become banks granting lies as valid deposits.
Divorce is the mistress that secretly crept into their blankets.
Divorce do you not know the sum of the formula of marriage?

Relationships have become webbed as they were termed “too complicated”,
They complicated from relations on conditions of “no strings attached”
Fears of committing steered the escape from courtship
Encouraging the ideology that their hearts
Would be spared from sorrow and attacks,
Yet numerous soul ties result like a bow tie, bound by spiritual ropes
Evidently existing in the unseen, but denied in the scientific.
Polygamists proclaimed this custom as an expression of abounding love
Even better, young men adopted the trend and called it swag

Like oxygen, they would not survive in its absentia,
Faithfulness, why has lust given you a veil of unbelief?
A new Jezebel has emerged, possessing the concealed truth that she wears the pants.
With every strike she serves to kill;
People have been tormented by her in their own bodies
As she jabs with her sting into every CD4 human defence cell and
Leaves it to die an undignified death;
Many were not deserving of her cruelty,

Countless souls sought without ceasing,
Looking to the skies for a cure to shower down
They stood firm on ice-cold ground
Their gaze fixed upon the heavens.
One questions the reality of divine power
While the other dressed in hypocrisy
Questions the reality of divine healing
Disease! Surrender your weapons and bow down to the Physician!

There is abundance to the dreadful issues
Calling out for further exploration but
My feet are bruised from treading on sharp-edged rocks,
My eyes have accommodated too much light threatening my sight,
My nose has been stung repetitively by lies suspended in the air,
My ears still longing for answers that have not been uttered,
My time may have expired but deep in the chambers of my heart
A magnifying glass is still treasured.
Believe against status quo, and see what lies beneath
Or you may well be…beneath the lies!

« Previous Page
Next Page »