Thursday, June 9, 2011

YOU

why you?
Then, why not?
I've wished time and again
That it would not be

Yet it was
it has always been
will it always be?
I know what was and is

I've tried to run away
Hide and pretend
Convinced myself otherwise
Still it was
You again

I wish I could not
That we never met
So that I dont have to wonder
Did it have to be you?

Sunday, May 22, 2011

The son/sun

I believe it spoke to him in ways only he could explain. In the morning when he had to get up  it would urge him to prepare for his day. He knew it was time to prepare ox for the plough, plant or reaping. To some of us who did have a share in this bond would often grumble at his insensitivity towards our comfort. To him it spoke of a possible tomorrow and unreserved today.
It will rise while the cattle were still ploughing, accompanies by its ever faithful concubines – the rays. To him it would say, “settle in, the day has just started. Plant and plough the land is your to do as you please”.
When it was time to release the oxen for grazing, it would tantalise his sun-kissed back, knead those  work-toned muscles as he took strength emarhewini*. He would then make his way home, while it still baked his back but still pacified by his straw hat.
He would have his meal then sit on the sunny side of uTango*.  Here he would allow sun to burn him on every side of his rib-cage. Mid-afternoon he would already be working on something in the yard. It could be fixing the fence getting heavy stones to prop up the poles of isibaya*, anything. He always found something to do while everyone too their afternoon siesta.
As brother sun (since they were long time acquaintances) makes his way to bed, they would both find their favourite spot. Ezixhotyeni*, this is where they would their deepest conversations – ancient secrets, discussion that would be defiled by the mere mention to any other human being. Then when Mr sun is done, my father would tip his straw hat and make his merry way home.
Emarhewini – (Amarhewu) – is a brewed non-alcoholic drink that is made from fermented mealies.
uThango- is the wall of the kraal.
Isibaya- is the kraal
Ezixhotyeni (isixhobo) – is a big natural cluster of stones. Ours face a river the runs to Umzimvubu – that leads to the Indian ocean

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Be art to me

Tell me my story
Sing it to me
Tell it to me
Just as you know it will be

Draw me my story
Paint me a path
Give them to me
Colours as they'll ever be

Capture it for me
In your lenses black and white
Take my soul
With your eyes

Tell it to me in clay
The work of a porter's hand
Splattered and moulded
Through my pain and joy

Weave the tendons of my soul
Play its harps strings
Keep it pumping
Keep it beating

Write me words
Keep me alive
Make me think
Be art to me

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Do you know me?

Do you know me?
Did you see me when I was 12?
Struggling to make sense of life
Grasping at straws
Trying to understand the world I'm in

Do you know me?
Where were you when I was 19?
Trying to figure out my place in the world
Placing myself amongst my peers
Sometimes sliding on sinking sand

Do you know me?
Remember when I was 25?
Thinking I had it al figured out
My life, my job, my career
The ins and outs without any care

Did you say you know me?
You should have seen me 5 years ago
Then you would have seen the face of confusion
A young adult fooled by illusion
Lost in the midst within  fusion

Dare, say you know me
When I am trying to figure that out myself
When one and one refuse to make two
And half and half don't make whole

Maybe I change when change comes
When I read or write I change
What I choose to hear changes me
And sometimes what I try to ignore changes me, anyway

I evolve...

I am not who I was
Surely I am who I am
And becoming who I'll be
Now tell me
Do you know me?

Sunday, April 10, 2011

This Sun

This sun
Cleansing my soul
Burning chuff
Soothing my heart

This sun
Washing over me
Speaking to me
Of tomorrow and a day beyond
Of hope and never ending joy

This sun
Singing to me
Songs of love and laughter
Crying with me
Tears of joy and sorrow

Tomorrow might be a better day
But still I have to get up and fight
Get up and make do
For tomorrow waits for no one
But proceeds with what is there today

This sun
Cleansing my soul
Teaching me things
Talking to me
Washing over me

Saturday, February 26, 2011

From my toe nail
To the tip of my hair
Ripples of movement give away
Music takes over

From my curving arm
To the stomping of my feet
I am on air
I feel the waves

The ground recieves my feet
The song engages my body
The strings prompt me forward
The drum beat moves be backward

I am captivated
My body has no will
Music has taken over
Ancient senses have been aroused

The sun, moon and the stars
Share secret sentiments
I move with them
I am enchanted

My feet find balance in the rhythm
My head hears an ancient song
My heart connects to the never had
My soul reaches out to the about to have

I am made whole
I am satisfied
My world begins here
My world ends here

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Love letter to Eno

If I could I would
Make the world a better place
If I can I will
Make you better for it
I know I can
Prapare you for this place

If I could I would
Lower mountains and valleys
If I can I will
Teach you to climb
I know I can
Train your limbs

If I could I would
Buy you inspiration
If I can I will
Teach you honour and intergrity
I know I can
Lead by example

If I could I would
Be here for you till eternity
If I can I will
Teach you how to live
I know I can
Smoother you with love

If I could I would
Pick your friends
If I can I will
Make remarks so that you see
I know I can
See trouble from afar

If I could I would
Tell you that life will be perfect
If I can I will
Arm you with faith and hope
I know I can
Be here for you whenever you need me