world book day

trapped in a mud
breathing very hard
trying to pull my nose from the mud
just so i can breath
only breath
i can't help myself
i'm trapped and scared
it can't happen now
there are things i have to fulfil first
oh! hell no, not now
i had a dream
of the rest of my life
the peace of my mind
dream not so scary
a song not so sad
a poem not so deep
the light of my life
the stream that feeds the river
river that feeds my life
the truth of infinity
it's gone
just like that

Polite Wishes Ungranted
vertically i write wishes ungranted
horizontally i gatecrash in churches unwanted
disturbing the peace; piss-off the priest; come out flabbergasted
whites celebrating justice after 'udarkie' got busted
head with a bullet got burried ina silver covered casket
since he forcefully tried to carry water in an uncomplete basket
with no surrendered mercy he got fucked and blasted
for the loss, the black loss
the blame is on the fake believers of the crucifying cross
for the black bled, the black got blasted
i blame jesus for wishes he left ungranted
for when the towers of 9/11 start to fall and burn
laden's bomb cared to leave no stone unturned
unlike a critic, i just blinked and found my paper stuck on my pen
i wish to see fading pictures of nuns and virgin samaritan
strangled my neck with black diamong jesus-piece hoping jesus won't return someday
what's praying go to do with a jesus obsession multiplied to the exponent of ten
wished for better guidance but with the fake unrealistic sermons how do you expect me to learn
blame not me when my beliefs start shrinking to the micro size of a germ
i wish this could somehow stop
since i began writing i sneeze fats and spit blood
tell me what's jealousy go to with the shooting of a guard
i'm satisfied to the negative percent with what i've got
the wishing disappointment in me doesn't hurt it cuts

Manna within Blackness
it took 9 months for the seed to germinate
deep in the porous layer of the African rock it originates sleepless nights
behold kings overthrown to their surprise it was the smell of my karisma
a picture of the millenium,
a woman who suffers from a man's possessed mind,
what's disturbing is drawn into perspective
i rather depict the picture in this kind of caricature
ke raloka diketo with an erasmus stone, people are left amazed after i revive the exploits
blood clotting mentality that carbon dioxide can run through,
like a triangle measured in Nkhumishe karats equated a supreme exponent of artistic marvel to poetry,
unlike misconceptions, my umbrella verse is thicker than a geometric line
- a stone that is out of proportion to the sierra rocks,
nothing paves my existense like rough dirt, buried in stone...
they, in bated breaths await the day i quake,
after a great discovery, a slight tshikinyego took place and coceived,
i left kimberely in a huge crate/ kings sent out mercenaries to slaughter the 1st borns of that day,
birthdays of mayhem.
debates took strong anti-my present day abode but i'm black son of the soil,
chose not to be wrapped in a foil,
locally roaming under the blessed drakensberg clouds...
and I wonder, will i ever run my life
politicians, mining magnates after me, me it was said i possess civilization
thaka e metse goodbye monna yo mosesane
broke out of chains, manumitted from mind, blood slavery
i witnessed apartheid in its death throes while in the womb of the african ink and he tip of my quill gunshots the day i germinated -
in struggle and sharecropping we are related until i was found too gravitational to resist a poke,
the day i was found he spoke of prosperity
my father had declared 'thaka e metse' the carnivorous globust finally dropped
let prosperity dwell in the township, thaka e metse!

what do we call it a survival
maybe it's a mistake
when was the last time i saw the past talking
about the presence that future will come
i was born again surrounded by many whiskies
couldn't even dare to open only one
they concise
i am the winner who lost the match
the very best loser
i call myself surpass in everything
if i could have a destiny of tomorrow
i would be a survivor indeed
i make things happen through utilising my inborn potential
i taught them to be wise always but they are champions like chickens,
heroes like zeroes
is what we call survival
i condemn it
you are not a survivor until your tree got blossoms
survive the surviveless things which will make it a worthwhile survival


survival of the little hearts
don't cry my little black sister
for thou shall be guided and whispered
for thou shall be heartened with a spur that defines the feeling of rightful
you have to do everything by yourself,
but you shall survive the pain of raising a little infant
and trying with all your being not to infect the word - child
seeing you trying to make a living out of the dark corners of life,
while it is still hard to show your sensibility to humans,
while trying to get over the one person that destroyed your life and still tells you of how infirm you are
damn, he doesn't know the first thing about life
sympathy goes out to you my black sister
still seeing the little innocent girl trying to hide whenever times get rough and you don't know what to do - but get dirty money
it will come to pass
that great sorrow of yours shall wash away someday - stand firm
except all the bad things life has offered
whenever you get troubled in mind
just sing out loud and say
'i'm a survivor'

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