You are here: Home / Archives for other poetry

The Red Pill

If my fingers could –
Reach
Down
Past the thickness that is your guard
Beneath your very earth
Where you hold the fertilized scars
Between the thorns surrounding your bosom
Concealing the warm spot
Where these arms may find rest
As the blood trickles down my palms

If this organ would –
Learn to continue beating
With the knife still firmly in its place
I know it may not look the same
But please believe the love that’s
Tried to course through these egotistical veins
For these arteries have become the –
– mezzanine –
Between all that I’ve lost
And the heart
That I’m trying to put back together again

Your very own should
See my detachment –
as the equivalence
To the things you do too
To cope with the heartbreak
For we have always been the same
Two hypocrites connected
By the subtle absence in my ribcage

With

You – simply distracted
By the forked tongues of men
In the same careless phase

I – simply attached
To every lust-coloured apple an
Eve seemed to bring my way

We – simply an act
Of our perception that these emotions
Are all that have remained

All I wanted was a name
Back when all I had,
Was the shallow attraction that
Kept my gaze at your face
Your eyes instead thought me to be the
Reincarnated demons of men who only
Craved the secrets below your waist
When the truth is that greater ecstasy
Comes from looking upon a naked soul
While undressing the
Intellect of
her
brain.

But then comes those games
Dictated socially;
You and I jump awkwardly between
Prejudiced views of how Love should be
Evidently, I could sit in a group
And preach the paraphrased truth
Only to live the sinner’s story

Hoping to see a compromise
Built from the self-imposed guilt
And the glory –
Curing your conscience
With the right words on a Sunday morning;
A game of halos hanging from horns we grew
The moment distortion
Became this society’s calling

And as we dance the same dance
Of broken lovers trying to find
The missed step
Recollecting the memories;
That feeling of anxiety when that which
Left – you in sorrow comes back with regret
“I am nothing like the last tenant”;

Conversations where
Our hearts try to connect,
Kick off the dust and
Let a new soul into our mess-
Messages of communicating a desire
For the universe to grant you the best
In this stranger you’ve now put to
The oh-so-familiar test

Because you and I live in a world where
My fractured trust
Cannot accept your sincere attempts
And your regrets
Keep me out of the bruised parts of you
Lost in another man’s conquest

So what is left?

Fragile boy with a heart that
Thought it once knew gold
Meets insecure girl who
Now thinks the world to be cold
So Stereotype meets Assumption
At a party and their drunken selves
Are as honest as they’ll ever come to know

You and I
We are tied by the same tragedy
Of meeting Love and seeing the wolf
Behind the sheep-skinned fallacy
“The Matrix is just a fantasy”,
She said, swallowed the red pill
And walked back to her reality

Today is a day

Today is a day like no other today is a day that I mourn my dear Brother,
A man I knew growing up side by side a man I lost when he died,
A void is left in his place this man was a man of humbleness and grace,
His loss is like a mountain exploded and left the dust as it has folded,
His eyes once shined and voice once heard a voice that was never feared,
The way he sat and spoke at times you would swear he was waiting just to rhyme,
This man I knew until thirty two and now he is up there amongst the chosen few,
His room stays the same and nothing has changed but the emptiness we feel is viewed in a frame,
That smile he had a warm one I might add made is seem like he was never bad,
My brother has left a void in me his humbleness has set me free, this void I want no one to see,
His pictures hang upon my wall but that’s no consolation for when he was called,
His heart was loving and his arms were wide he held me tight as a brother by his side,
The date is one I will always remember this is the day I lost a member,
Known to me a Sebastian this a man without a question,
He grew up with a name called Bill, but this was because of his size and not his will,
He filled a house with joy and laughter this big man made it all as a crafter
He loved the water and having fun, birthdays to him was the time in the sun,
He celebrated with me and my kids and to him they were his all, o how seldom we remember the small,
My brothers gone and his life has ended I miss you man and the sorrow is not pretended,
Your heart was big and your hands were too I need someone to hug me that’s someone’s you,
My back you cracked with your big arms and strength I needed that man from your palms,
We played golf and lessons were taught but now recently I feel distraught,
My brother my brother, there is no other my brother my brother today is a day like no other….
I fixed your car as best I could but I knew that that was not any good,
The day I carried you off to rest I tried not to cry with any success,
Your grave was dug and the lowering began I felt as if it was a plan
You’re gone today a year ago we will always remember you BILLO……
Finding comfort in the heart of the brother dealing with our loss gone but not forgotten, I miss you Boss
As a child growing up and he use to dance the DOGGIE was the one dance I would never chance,
He loved his mother and father dearly every day to him was he would give them a call sincerely.
This huge man with a heart of gold to all of us as family he left us with a piece of
His life a mould…
The memories we all can share in pictures taken during his life reflect his smile and not his strife,
Taken too soon as we all can say but by him leaving he has paved the way.
Today is a day I mourned a brother, today is the day like no other,
Today is the day we shed our tears, today is the day we remember our fears.
His smile is upon us no matter what and he would want us to remember him for a while…

That day

That day has arrived
The one I thought will never come
Oh! Not for him at list
For he’s the greater one of all,
Oh! The black dark cloud fell

I used to sit outside the house,
The one I used to call a home,
With the man who made it whole
And talk about the tricks of life,

“My child” he often said
“Life is not a rocking chair,
If you want to make it big in life
Climb the rocks it throws at you
That way you’ll bit the ousts”
Yes I miss the good old days,
But today that same old chair
Gives me nothing but lonely dreams,

The big day arrived
For me to call it quits
And start to form a list,
Of thing I’ll do onwards,
From sowing scats to learning quads
That way holly troops will fall
And I’ll be pointed to a direction.

That crazy day perched
When every one’s head is pink
And every one is soon to Greek
Unless you give your self a check
And try to find a decent job.

That final date landed
For those who plaid the game of life
For life is now, tomorrow gone
And then you’ll have to leave behind
The ones you love and work undone
But then you know you plaid your part.

Wings to fly

If there were wings,
Wings for me to fly,
If I could fly high, into the sky
Beyond the blue sky would I fly

If there were wings
Wings for me to fly
If simply I could,
I would fly and leave the pain behind,
I would fly and never come back.

If there were wings to fly
I would fly up high above
The mountains
I would fly and never look back.

Oh! Wings protection of a bird,
Why don’t you take me beyond
Where there is no hatred tears or sorrow
Save me from this world’s pain and suffering

imali iPHEPHA ELINOMDWEBO

Mali, mali, mali ndini
Hayi mali sidakwamizwa ndini
Odaka omkhulu, ogogo
Nabo malume, naba shana babo

Futhi mali, unebhabhalazi elingapheli…

Mali uhlukanisa imindeni
Bonke abantu bafuna wena mali
Yintoni imfihlo yako mali
Mali ndini buyela lapho ophuma khona

Baphelile abantu bakithi,
befuna wena mali!

The green, green grass of Mr Mashiloane

Life in Jozi is good so far,
I got a job and made some friends
Among those friends is an elderly man
Who stay in the heart of Ebony pack

There is some thing about this guy
Though He has gaffes like every man,
And I can quote the booze for one,
He drink’s his beer like its tape water

What caught my eye about this guy?
The green, green grass out side his house,
It cashes eye from far away,
“This is no ordinary loon” he says,
“It is the green, green grass from Canada lands”

“I don’t want paper or any trash
Anywhere near the green, green grass”
It’s always cut, and fairly cute
No dog or rat plays on it,
They understand it’s not a toy

Listen

Listen to the sound that comes
From within; the dram that rows
To unblock you ears, listen to the voice
Of the elders whispering to give you wisdom,
Listen to the sound of music

Listen to the sound that comes
From the mountains the echo of the
Shepard’s voice calling his flock,
Listen to the sound of water flowing
From stream to stream to soothe your soul
Listen to the sound of music

Listen to the sound that comes from the sky
The sound of the thunder as it rows to worn you
Of the storm that’s coming, listen to the sound of
The raindrops falling to give you grain
Listen to the sound of music.

The word

The word that brought all things to being,
Is mocked about by many deans.
And many hearts where cleaned.
A will of living water drilled;
Have quenched a many gills;

The dreadfull thirst of hell is killed,
The sailing hearts are healed.
It was turned on earth, too flashed,
The sun of rightiouness flashed,
The sheckles of sin where smashed.
A brood of sacred chicks is hached.
The joy in haven, can’t be matched.

Dared

I dare to tell of their secrets
that handbag full of mystical revelations
untold stories of our once confined forefathers
those concealed behind every door
buried in the pits of their left pockets
Snugly laying at the back of their throats
the greatest taboo of our time
forgotten at the tips of their tongues
I dare to make known their shady secrets
those leading to a black man’s enlightenment
skilfully disguised in those highly confidential textbooks
those never to be spoken of tales
unseen behind every banned revolution song
those enveloped in bruises
beneath every pillow
behind broken promises
beneath every breath
wrapped around silent voices
of unsung heroes

Poetic Paradox

It is eternally a mind altering thought
that of poetry’s paradox in every moment born,
its multicoloured wings spawn this age of floating ashes…
flashes of the other side of what awaits our words,
what awaits our hearts a part of a whole different world.
Unfurled everyday upon our eager lips
within our kisses and our wishes that sweep our souls
we are consoled by love in her paradoxical cloak,
invoked by love’s deprive..yet alive
waiting willingly in the tears of our lover’s cry.
I have beheld the world in my eyes
in a moments breath on either side
where contrast ideas collide in a mind full of sky..
where twinkling stars cast their gaze
and sunlit days turn to nights of rain.
i am captured by the frames of time

« Previous Page
Next Page »