Lockdown Revelations

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No one prepared me for the day my mother and I would both be adults
That I’d have a voice and it would count
That I’d see what’s wrong and not be afraid to speak up
No one could have seen my becoming an adult with a strong conviction of justice for the underdog
That my mother would rather have me safe by her Bossom than out there softening the blow of some form of evil
That everytime I meet her I have to remind myself she’s not selfish, but a mother, a species I have not evolved into
All that time in life skills and all I got was how to wear a condom that I don’t use
These are the conversations we should have had
That our warriors retire and seek rest, and they could find rest in your Bossom
And you won’t suffocate, no; all the time she took care of you, you picked up a thing or two
She’s just not the same, life and heartaches later, she’s alive but I’m an adult now
I can choose now, like I choose about marriage and priorities
I choose to talk it out, air out grievances and ideas, create a space to be ourselves
I choose to choose and she allows it
What a time amai, what a time
It’s inevitable, but it’s happening, in every conversation I become less of a child
But sometimes life tackles me, hindsight, I’m a babe again and her Bossom is always waiting, welcoming
Life did not prepare me for adulthood where I’m still a mature child
No one, not even she, prepared me to look out for her best interests
I’m not scared, I’m taking it in, the shift in dynamics
Using the Word to ensure I honour my mother.

Lockdown Days of Activism

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I do not recognise the 16 days of activism against Gender-based violence. It resonates with a feeling of clumping the girl child struggle into JUST 16 days. Every single form of violence and abuse against women and children, to be summarised in 16 days of activism. Every day should be a day of activism against Gender-based violence because it is a daily reality we face. Today’s poem is that of a woman awakening and unlearning the narrative forced on her. Keep WOMEN and CHILDREN safe.

Photo by Luis Quintero

Liberating Realisations

I am not a diary, particularly your diary

My sole mission is not to keep a daily record of your life events

Neither is it to note your future plans

You have sluggishly, clandestinely reduced my worth to simple pages

Slowly over time you have anesthetized my soul

Helped me forget I am more than your daily reminder

The strength within me has awoken my soul in slumber

For there is more to me than what you have mechanised me to be

For a girl always has her inner strength

The soul slowly regains momentum

The heart beats past the spider webs

It hammers to give vitality again

I not aware of its existence, you not willing to spare it

It pounds away what it once was

A resting place for all your skulduggery

So much of your pain laid to rest

A ticking time bomb I would have become

If you had not choked its last surviving vein

With all your games it was subdued to

It still buffeted past the pain

After so long I finally hear my own heart beat

I no longer just look after yours

A lady always has her inner strength

 My heartbeat fueled by the soul fires up my spirit

Yes it did live on after you killed off everything else

Even after beating the sense of beauty out of me

But its core business was to serve you

It lived for you and only you

To make sure you were never lonely

To ensure you never discovered strain

To make happiness insurmountable

But now it has its own soul and heart beat

Its sole purpose is to rediscover the liveliness that once blossomed in my spirits garden

For I must break free from your bondage

And be who I genuinely should be

I can only love the world

When I learn to love myself

You once deprived me of this

As always a woman has her inner strength

 My mind has always been prone to propagandists

I am now better protected from your propaganda

That which made me believe I was less than I am

You should have impelled my devotion to a greater cause

Than just simply you, a selfish cause

My mind has always been capable

But you would not hear of it, all you wanted was a servant;

Not a queen to build a nation

Not an orator to fight a popular notion

Well my mind is now emancipated

With the help of my soul, heart and spirit

My mind can finally drive and not be driven

I can finally live out my dream

My body is not a simple vessel

Neither is it a concubine

It is the perfect courier for my divine being

I am there when you need a friend not a diary

I am here if you need a partner not a servant

I will be available when you can finally appreciate my queendom.

Lockdown all day, everyday

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I am done with my lockdown countdown because even President Ramaphosa doesn’t know when we will be in the clear, if ever. That means we are back to random poetry posts😁😁😁. Well, it has been a few weeks since the lockdown started here in South Africa and the times keep getting more and more confusing, for lack of a better word. The murder of George Floyd has opened dialogues on institutionalised racism all across the world, including South Africa. I am perplexed by the black lives movement here in South Africa that is simultaneously occurring as some other citizens are also advocating for South Africans first, a xenophobic movement that is not something new in South Africa. What baffles me the most is how the same society that kills and harrases BLACK foreigners, is also the kneeling in support of an American movement. The same government that delays government payouts (through UIF, the system takes much longer to pick up passport numbers) to legal and tax-paying foreigners who are stuck in this country due to the pandemic, a pandemic that has forced this country to close borders indefinitely. The same society that kneels and encourages equality for the black man, is the same that has burned BLACK foreigners and their businesses. Yes, the same society that has afforded me some privileges also slaps me in the face with ignorance from parliament to social media comments that are always reminding us to go back to our countries in one way or another. I believe that this society I am part of, as a black female foreigner, can do better. Today’s poem was written in the light of a newborn child, loved but not to be embraced for long.

As I lay my head

That as I hold my head with distant memories of your small fingers I am yet to hold

I bid you hello into a world with very few warm places

That I worry is not to concern you

Because the faith I have shields me from treacherous thoughts

So I pray for your safe passage through this world

For it is not the end nor the beginning

For in a previous life I might have held you and been the rock I want to be now

To be there for you as your father has

Much like I said,I hide behind the notion of another life

Where I am much closer and happy

For in this world

There is not a scenario where I can reach you and be content

So for now I am being selfish and following my heart and dreams

So that when you do the same I will defend you

For I have tasted of the fruits myself

But lately my head hurts

A never ending pounding smothers my safety net

As my thoughts linger across a border to a love I have not known

But the world has familiarized with

And I get jealous of them who can touch,taste and smell that which is mine

Because I dream about it night and day

Now I invest in time to become worthy of such blissful joy

Though it hurts drilling the whole to fill the empty space

There is nothing else to it

I have to get through it

And pray you never know a love so great and destructive

Or maybe you should

I can only make recommendations

When life flashes before my eyes

Just before I leave you for another journey.

Lockdown Day 33

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Barely sane, here I am to give you some poetry to silently speak to you about anything but the virus, a breather, you deserve it. Today’s sharing is an apology really, for just being human, something I have experienced one too may times. Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated ❤❤❤


Just Sorry

I have established that I am sorry

But the debate goes on within as to why I am sorry

I think I am sorry because I wronged you

I know I am sorry for simply not being strong enough to see that you know that you are no good for me

I am sorry that I still confide in you in the hope you will finally care

I am sorry for:

persisting on lost hope,

holding onto your every word,

praying for a kiss,

believing in the kiss we shared,

reading too much into you taking my hand,

losing focus in your eyes,

and for every night I dream of laying in your arms

I’m sorry I let my friends feed me with the illusion of you loving me

I’m sorry I do not think I am beautiful enough for you

I’m sorry about hiding behind artificial makings

I’m sorry I think you disapprove of who I am

I am sorry for trying to be the perfect girl for you

I am sorry I cherish the picture of the two of us

I am sorry I safeguard your legacy in your absence

I am sorry about saving up for your birthday when I know you do not remember mine

I am sorry I long to be with you as soon as you let go

I am sorry I am waiting to be identified as yours to feel whole

I am sorry for becoming devoted to an egocentric man

I am sorry I do not feel confident around you

I am sorry I will never forget you when I know you will

I am sorry I am that girl who fell for you

I am sorry for breaking the promise I made, about not writing about you

I am sorry I will never stop apologising.

Lockdown Day 27

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I believe people are getting weary of the lockdown here in South Africa primarily because of the uncertainties most of us are facing because life is never going to be the same and we aren’t sure we are adequately prepared for the changing times. Today’s piece centers around a hopelessness we can all relate to, if not before then definitely now. Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated.♥♥♥

Something has to give

Found myself meditating in front of the post office

Waiting for that one letter that would set my goals in motion

That was weeks ago; the wheels are now flat in position

Want to scream and shout

I end up laughing my lungs out

With each passing day the flames get bigger and bolder

You can only ignore the smell of your own burning flesh for so long

Was playing broken telephone with Destiny

Kinda said I could achieve anything as long as I put my heart into it

Kinda heard all my efforts would sum up to something

Cannot be two sides of the same coin

Walls fall like dominoes around me

So unpredictable, the only constant is that everything is tumbling down

You have to be insane to see the silver lining

Halfway through the storm

Thank God for my insanity

Though self destruction feels imminent,

I still find time for a cup of tea

Found myself sitting on the edge of the freeway

Waiting for something

Still don”t know what or whom

But something has gotta give

Because I am unaware of my sins

Lockdown Day 21

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I honestly cannot believe that it is already been 21 days. Here we are (to the people who have been following my lockdown posts since Day 1). We are alive and hopefully healthy and for that I am grateful. This lockdown was originally supposed to be for just 21 days, but it has been extended for 2 more weeks. I will not be able to post on a daily basis but definitely give you more poetry to read. It has been amazing dishing out poetry on a daily basis. Here is today’s sharing about being human, that is making mistakes. Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated.♥♥♥

Photo by Pedro Serrano

Everyone’s Mistake

Somewhere; somehow I lost the plot
Feel like pulling out my hair
If it wasn’t falling out already
I had it all figured out
Nurtured by horror stories of the consequences
But those were just lies my mother told me
No one could imagine the ordeal
Later on relate the unimaginable emotional roller-coaster
That it takes a few thoughtless decisions
To reduce your existence; expectations to nil
I wish the regret dawned years later
But the dark cloud latches onto you within seconds of penetration
Of the forbidden fruit
Never knew anything could involuntarily take so much from me
Stripped to the soul
No amount of clothing could shield me from the cold gust of disgust
No amount of water can wash out the self hatred
Its not the actual act as it is the idea that I thought I was a cut above the rest
That I was in control, yet I am falling to dust
I have been humbled by the mistake that brought me back to earth
Now as I free fall to my demise
I know my rebirth will be crowned by humble realizations
That everyone’s mistake is thinking they too good to make that one mistake.

Lockdown Day 20

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There is wisdom in taking one day at a time, especially as a writer who is committed to fulfilling a daily sharing. I guess it was ridiculous hoping that 3 weeks was enough to have the virus under control in South Africa. Much appreciation to the people fighting this virus in the front lines. You are appreciated. I am doing my part by staying at home and sharing unique poetry. Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated.♥♥♥

Photo by Johannes Plenio

Mucking Equations

When love causes discomfort
And all you have are the wounds
That isn’t much to go on
To be the hope for a HAPPY future
That isn’t much to hold on to
To be the reason you aren’t lonely but alone
It’s not enough to love me
When that only means we wrestle in possibilities
I’m a fool to want tangible proof; but this is the fool you love
We are like two distant puddles hoping a river will unite us
Before the baking sun dries us up
Or the wind vaporizes us
I’m not giving up just giving in; to my inexperienced advice
That all I want is you; but I don’t see the sun rising on that aspect
I’m too young to be waiting, but here I find myself
I contradict myself these days
I hate the idea of love and commitments
Yet i’m in love with the commitment we are yet to share
I see the statues bleeding out tears out for me
No greater sympathy has befallen me
I’m not giving up just giving in to my chaotic strategies
I am putting you in a box and shoving you in a shelf
Inside the wardrobe behind the locked bolted titanium door
It is better there than out of mind and out of sight
I will grab the keys when I’m ready
To either say goodbye and set you free
OR when you finally in sight; hence in my heart again.

Lockdown Day 19

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Kicked whilst you are down is a sentiment that is prevalent during this lockdown, and an extension on the lockdown does not help the situation. There is no way but up hey, and today’s piece centralises on this. Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated.♥♥♥

photo by Public Domain Pictures

From the ashes I can only rise

I would like to thank everyone who made me feel ugly  
You made me feel invisible and that it was never okay to be who I am
I have lived my life like no one’s watching  
And that has allowed me to dance, sing, shout and laugh like there’s nobody watching  
Special shout out to people who have victimized me for my lifestyle choices
You made me second guess who I was until I was sure  
In my every bone that the voice I listened to was really my heart  
And to the special people who went to the trouble of making fun of my body Thank you for showing me just how cruel the world is  
Almost nothing gets me off guard now that I know what people can say to a girl  
Words are powerless to express my gratitude  
To the people who bluntly told me I would not make it past high school  
It made me study twice as hard every time I failed  
Because I had to prove you wrong  
And for that, I appreciate my Honours degree even more  
Thanks a ton to everyone I cared for who gradually forgot about my existence  
No pain measures against a loved one who no longer holds a torch, quite like the fire  
That still burns for them inside you  
It got me paranoid about what was wrong with me  
It eventually became a vicious cycle till I realised such is life  
It has made me love harder because like you, it could disappear anytime   All my love and thanks to the people who have said no to my words  
It is only through rejection that my words have found depth  
To the ironies of life, it was so awesome of you  
To turn up every time I thought my life could not get worse  
I have suffered many sleepless nights only for the truth to dawn on me   That I will never have it all figured out  
So why not shut it all out and throw my hands to the sky  
Words honestly can’t describe how thankful I am  
To everyone who belittled me  
You drove me to the edge, where I felt even smaller  
It gave me first-hand experience of what it feels like to have nothing to live for  
It gave me the courage to start a blog where I could voice out to as many people at the edge as possible  
So they can look around and find they are never alone  
And to the few I have ever let in and still broke my heart regardless  
Please accept my vehement protestations of gratitude  
After a great deal of self-loathing and despair that again kept me up at night
That often causes me to withdraw, I have found myself closer to God  
How can I show how grateful I am?  
To the random strangers that have smiled at me, or the people in my life who have made me a part of their lives  
You have made my existence a whole less awkward  
You have renewed my faith in the humankind  
Without you there is no faith, hope and charity  
To fuel the free-spirit I am today.

Lockdown Day 18

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Times were tough but I am grateful that I had a childhood. A time of innocence and endless wonder. An opportunity to be overwhelmed by the simplest of things, not many of us had that. It is something many take for granted until they hear of how so many unfortunately never saw the sun shine quite like you do. It often makes me want to thank my mother for all her sacrifices. Some people never want to leave that wonderland and accuse you of abandonment when you move on into adulthood. Others pack it away so far away it explodes its way to be noticed, the ends left loose. Today’s piece is of people on opposite sides of adulthood.  Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated.♥♥♥

Photo by Shuvrasankha Paul

Barefoot days

Now that you have mentioned it, I liked it better when all we were was tall, dark and skinny
When we all had browning short hair and Vaseline chiseled faces
We ran barefoot across wet and dry plains, laughing endlessly; running pointlessly
 As I lay on the sand and the waves sway my mind to calm thoughts its simpler times I succumb to You remember don’t you? 
When riding bicycles was an upgrade; from walking home to and fro school
I never could remember to pack my raincoat, hence I packed away my school shoes and books in a plastic bag and put it in my bag and walked home barefoot
The shivers of cold icy rain still linger down my spine till this day
I open my eyes; to let the sunshine brighten that memory somehow
Yes there we go; simplicity in its prime
When school was all about getting a couple of stars for patterns you drew effortlessly
When friendship was just a matter of being whoever was in the vicinity whenever you had a fun idea of how to spend a free afternoon
When all that mattered was if you were done with your chores
I know you want me to come back
Especially now that simplicity has lost its allure to the world
I will come back if you can promise me this
That you will call me from your landline and ask my mother’s permission to come over
When I do get there we will clap hands, sing, dance and most importantly endlessly laugh
That we will hold hands and run across the veld again barefoot
And that when we lay on the green grass to take a breather
Nothing will be more important than that moment
Then we will take a ride along the river towards the sunset and share stories of  our time apart
Just as the rays marvel on the river’s reflection
When we get back, your mum will scold us for coming back so dirty and run a bath for us
Can you promise me that the veld still stands,
Not destroyed by some selfish cause or that the river still runs clean and fresh
If you can, then there is a fighting chance
I will visit you soon,
Just to feel alive again I open my eyes again;
I am alive but it’s not the same as the barefoot days.

Lockdown Day 17

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My prejudice against other people has reduced primarily because of the prejudice I have experienced in all kinds of ways. It has made me feel things I would not want the next person to feel. The worst part is that such petty people will turn around and shamelessly embrace you once it profits them. Today’s poem is that of a person who sticks around with a undesirable who eventually becomes ‘acceptable’ and for reasons unknown, the first impulse is to go back to the very beings that cast him out. Is it forgiveness or a weakness that makes us forget their cruelty? Keep safe, see you soon. Much appreciated.♥♥♥

Photo by Harrison Haines

He goes home their hero

He goes back home a decorated hero
Fought the wars of a world that rejected him
Only to triumph over the salted pillars of prejudice
He goes back home their hero
They will sing songs of praise
Lyrical lies about their support included
With their backs to him
And he is only but a man
Hopefully I am wrong again
And he will surprise me by being a man and a half
I cannot remember to forget him
We have tried out the routine; the genre is for another song
I could only tap dance to the dub step for so long
So I embraced the imperfect love fit for me
I am not giving up I am giving in
Just as I let my guard down
He tells me he is going back home
For a couple of weeks he says, famous last words
He goes back home a celebrated hero
To wine and dine the vultures
The same who would have fed off his failure
I just pray he wont remember to forget me
One of the very few who embrace the thorny rose he is
I look at the scars now and I am reassured it was worth it
Travel safe, make memories to share with
I choose to believe he goes back home my one and only hero.