5 lines

(for Maambele)

5 lines for the next Lap
An epoch pregnant with untold promises
A journey, nevertheless
Overcome by your giant Leaps
Unendingly, keep walking tall

The Corona

Good Morning World,

The Coroner stands by your door 

No sure what the Corona intended 

He has come to count

What the ugly sweeping hand is doing

To this the beautiful world

A vulture awaiting on your souls

A silence that sneaks into the world

A new world choke-held by lockdowns

and panic buyings 

Curfews in the age of globalisation

What a contradiction!!

The Corona knows no fed tummy

His hunger is infinite 

He cares not for the bones 

Of hungry little kids

Protruding from their worn torn garbs 

He is hungry, feed him

He has no use for your piles of toilet paper

He must be feed

Wash your hands, drink vinegar 

But who will disinfect the soul?

From this menacing world and its anguish

Feed the Corona, feed him some more

For the Coroner must get to work

Its almost morning

The Crown is calling

(written during the pandemic )

Gemini (Union of two eccentrics)

Everything is sharply rejected and despised
T'is hard to tell if life passes by
Or if T'is a deep immersion into its depth
The mind that wanders
And the mindless wanderer
Complacent and unaware of the roving winds
That keeps hearts steady
Never longing for warmth
An observer walking afar
Yet at times weary of being on the outside
Looking in; from a heart whose blood is drawn
Robot like going through life in a dream
Far away from the ashy shadows of social validation
Keeping everything private; far from the piercing crowds
For another eye is an eye too many
To stare and glance deeper into a bloodless heart
There must be world for the unknown
For those who anonymously walk through life
 It is a world within; of endless experiences
Free from the heartless imprisonment of unions
Embracing the sweet reluctance to romance
In union with the hunger and emptiness
Of a life lived within than the life lived without
In the union of two eccentrics

Cape Town is a bitch

Her lure has drawn many to her bloody bath
Imagining a beach - they gun for her
Unknowing she has been there a million times before
Dreamers leave villages brimming with hope
Only to find fulfilment in her long bosom
At last, the mute pursuit comes to a nope
To stand face to face with one’s soul
But the price of freedom is the entire village

They return, a song whose tune is unknown
A quack in speech like geese
With traits of everything gone wrong
Camouflaged with an air of affluence
They come and go; sometimes never come back
Come and go; but the dreams are nowhere to be seen
All we have is a shadow of hope; for the bitch had her way

Only in her bosom - they breath
For far from her; at home they are strangers
Their soul yearn for her comforting cleavage
She is a bitch who has laid her bed with roses
They bowed; enchanted by her sweet aromas
Never anticipating the thorns that soon prick
Behold - no blood left; for the bitch has had her way

The Butcher

You always stood outside his door, didnt you?
Ready to pounce when he blinks
Your shadow a bubble wrapt around his head
To shield your gnawing dagger from his soberness
your bubble gets bigger and it did
Making your horns look seemingly like a crown
He sought to own it
He blinked
and swiftly, you pounced

Tearing through his inflamed chest 

Ripping open his melancholic brain

With your fiery arm on choke

Wrestling against his faintly gasps

Instantly, leaving him little but a shell

A shadow of immense greatness
A lifeless heap of nothingness
Another steak neatly cleaned from your table

But what of your insatiable hunger for gore?

Outside whose door do you now wait?

Ready for carnage

When you turn came

You said never to hopelessness
But when you turn came you bowed
What happened to the war within
And victories untold?
It’s sad, to see you withered
When it was time to stand your own
And face demons within
 Now we are left here
 To deal with the menacing pain
 Of the years you lived
And the years you died
Until the day you bowed out