Moment of Silence

 It is a moment of silence

Say no to thoughts running wild

Hold close your heart

Before its captured by rapturous fires

Angers and joys of sadness 

Its time for yoga 

Dont roll out a mat 

For its the soul that needs to 

stretch still on the mat of silence 

Find calm in the madness 

And stop 

the rioting blood, the angered hope 

There is tomorrow, another day 

Another hope in the rising sun 

But for now stretch out 

On the floor of anguish 

And agonize on nothing 

for today is history
tomorrow is an idea

yesterday is a mirage 

with all its ills 

dont let it live

Stretch it out on the mat of silence  

- for 1 December 2020

 

Vhuhwini

Vho makhulu vha gai?

Vho malume ashu vho vhonwa nga nnyi?

Khotsi ashu vhana ni?

Vho ela sa mutshundudi

He vhaya ahu athu vhonwa

Vho khuya vhuhwini, pfamo isini mikano

Sedzani mashubini Tshipange

Lavhelesani Ngulumbi

Ndi mudi de usina tshitanga?

 

Vhudzisani

Ni vhone arali litshe lo lala

 

 Makhulu vha kha divha tshiulu naa?

Tshine ra tamba ti tshi gonya

Khe ho tou duu?

Muludzi usa tsha lila?

Naa vhathu vha gai?

Vho farwa lwendo 

Vhuyiwa ndi vhuhwini

Aredi hanengei

Incomplete

 A word

A sentence 

A paragraph

Chapters and Sections

Hardly a book

So nothing can be read of my covers

Incomplete and seemingly never ending 

A string of expression, muddied 

In this muted pursuit for things that seek expression

For George Floyd

I didn't write a poem,
when they choked you
I didn't write a poem
When his knee was on your neck
I didn't write a poem
when you expired
I didn't write a poem
When they rose
I didn't write a poem
Throughout the eruptions
I didn't write a poem
When like a wild fire
You soul set the world alight
I didn't write a poem
For their knee was on my neck
I can't breath
Living on borrowed times
Handcuffed since time immemorial
Face down in internal surrender
hissing and gasping
For a better day tomorrow
In a Whiteman's world
 - For George Floyd

P.s whats a poem for a nigga gasping on his last breath 

Messiah

There was a time
The Lord ran for dear life
He found refuge
In the motherland
She has been abused
Raped and debased
But tell her kids the truth
When the Lord was captured by fear
Rejected by his kith and kings
And for him, his father sought safety
He came to us
Then what of our motherland?
If the Lord found refuge in her
She saved him
She is the Lord's Messiah

Masses

Masses are an alter
You bring them in I perish
I cannot stand to suffocate
I long for a place far off
In the hills and mountains
In the valleys
Far from this chaos
Of a madding crowd
Happy in their joys
Happy in the anguish
Set me afar from their happiness
I want the truth

These Two

These two walked on together
Hands pretending to hold firm
They are walking  apparently
To the end of the rainbow
But nobody asks whose rainbow?
Who owns the red, yellow, blue?
Who owns the glittering pot of gold
At the end of this rainbow
Can it end already
So that the owner can take his gold
And return home
His gold he says
Dug from my land
Dug by my sweat
Polished in my toils
But apparently we are walking
Walking talking in harmony

The Great Race - Runners (The Freedom Ave. Series)

Its a race beyond the human race
Racing to an unknown end
So they run and run

Run to sunday school
Run to primary school
They keep running

Run to fall in love
Run to fall out of love
They keep running

Run to the store
Run for dinner
They keep running

Run to the table
Run to the tree or the toilet
They keep running

And along I start running
Along you start running
The they continue running

No one knows where the race goes
But the race continue
Breeding runners along the way

Some fall by the way side
But the running continue

They run to bury them
They run to forget them
They keep running

Its not a circle
Its not a square
Its an infinite string

No one knows when it started
No one know when to shall end
But someone lives to see your end
When at last the race run faster than you
And you fall by the wayside

Running to the cemetery of runners

Misunderstood (The Freedom Ave. Series)

Don't break me up
There is no peace in my pieces
I fear I bleed too much
Fragile, I shatter
Under your microscopic watch
I have been there all along
Under your vivid scarlet  eye
Blood gushes out, veins burst
Before you can see through
And go like the rest
Loaded with nothing
But sheer misunderstanding
Weighing heavily like gold and diamonds
When its nothing
But a figment of your delusions

The Runner (The Freedom Ave. Series)

He runs for dear life
from peace
from war

All are
But meaningless shadows
Lifeless behind him

He runs from the sun
from cold
 from warmth

He longs
For emptiness within
Unattached to him

He runs from his shadow
from himself
from the future

He shudders
at the possibility of his shadow
finding expression in him

He is alive to the possibility
Of waking up to nothingness
A sweet end to the mute pursuit

He is at peace
When everything is left behind