Reliving The Past

If there is one thing that I have learnt over the last couple of months is that you can not run away from your past. Some sins are better left uncommitted because what is done cannot be undone. Not all memories are bad though and there are poems that I have written that take me back to the moment they were written. They remind me of that young boy who had only just begun to explore what would be a rollercoaster of feelings and actions he had never thought would happen to him. They draw me in back into the decision of a young man who could pretend that the cuts on his body didn’t exist because there was no blood to prove it.

Sometimes I miss that boy and his cute unawareness to how life really worked. I sometimes wonder for him what it would have been like had he known what I knew now, would he still have continued with his choices or would he have chosen differently. Would I even be here writing this if he had chosen differently or would I be going through a process of regretting not having explored the path the led me to right here? I guess I will never know because well that young man has no answers just as I do not have the answers.

On my last post, I was saying goodbye to a friend. Towards the end, things between us were just unbearable. So much so that it all overrode the good times, especially the beginning. Oh, what a wonderful time the beginning was, she was this anomaly that I couldn’t beautifully understand and it was such a beautiful experience getting to know her. She is part of the reason that I started writing poetry more often, her constant encouragement and support gave me the confidence to be able to share it with others as well.

The first night we met, I exchanged with her a poetry series only she has seen, even now, that’s how personal it was to me but with her, I felt free, there was never a need to hide from her and that is what made me really appreciate her the most. On that night she wrote to me a poem titled “He came forth” and together we collaborated on “She came forth”. As a poet that had to be one of the greatest nights of my life, that exchange at that time meant so much to me and now I share it with you. I hope you enjoy this trip that shows the beauty that was our friendship, not the ugliness that it ended with.

He Came Forth

From the deep void he came forth, filling spaces between my fingers that I never knew were there.

As the world twists and turns and is pulled by the current, he shall be my anchor and I shall be his.

We are not as sad as yesterday, but not as happy as tomorrow. We experience the joy to replace the pain of old, the peace to ease the tempest of the heart, and the comfort in the sorrow.

The light at the end of the tunnel was threatening to blind us, and we were choking in euphoria.

From the deep void he came forth, rising like the phoenix, sweeping my pain away.

She Came Forth

Out of pain she came forth. At a time when hoping had become dangerous and dreams had died. The pain I felt was nothing compared to the light she brought.

Out of death, life came forth. had I known that there was such a thing, such a feeling I would not have struggled to be but rather struggled to become.

The fight against myself, against others now has an ally or better yet, a friend. The misery that was is now the joy that is. My biggest worry is that I wont be able to appreciate enough the gift I have been given.

If it had been meant to be, if it had meant to be then finally it has happened. finally I look at the mirrior and not see a mistake or a problem but rather I see what two people can accomplish when they both have the desire to change what they have been.

The journey is long, it has been painful but to say there is light is an understatement. Around fountains we walked but probably we just missed each other, two lonely souls sesrching for a voice, a chance to be heard outside their own thoughts. But to what end was this walk, to what end were their cries, I tell you now that to peace, to joy, to be able to finally say I am no longer lonely, actually I am less lonely than
I have ever felt.

There is strength in numbers we have heard but never felt. We are where we are because of prayers made, the ones we thought went unanswered when the truth is that had this moment come any sooner, I dont think neither would have appreciated it as much as they do now.

Out of pain she came forth and completly turned my world upside down.

There was no greater joy then, than having to meet someone who took the loneliness away. For that, I am eternally grateful to her.


Ode to a fallen friend

You were right, I was going to be the one to end our friendship. I don’t feel bad or regret or anything really but seeing your letters made me think of you. It took me back to a time when chilling with you in your room was just part of the day. When talking about our feelings brought us closer together and made us believe we could fight anything as long as we did it together.

I hope you don’t sit and look back at our time together with contempt but I hope you remember the good times, the shared songs, the impromptu dinners and the 1am walks to nowhere and everywhere. I hope you remember that in my darkest days you were a shining light and that when you needed me I was there for you.

Today I burn the letters and in those flames I will see the rollercoaster that was our friendship at the beginning, I will see the person who peaked my interest beyond measure and someone who I am proud to have known. In those flames, I will think of the moments we shared and the non existent times only you will understand. I those flames I will see blind pilots and suicide sheep and all the music we shared, I will always appreciate you for plugging me into indie.

Our goodbye was sudden and abrupt but the memories created will live on forever. I will always remember that 2017 and 2018 had some great highlights and it all started with you. The other side of that coin and why ultimately we aren’t friends anymore is that these were also some of the worst years of my life, and though it’s not all your fault, it did start with you. But I am here for the good ol’ days and for those I will forever be grateful.

Goodbye old friend.

Fumbling Mumbles

We are still the remaining people of a past that didn’t look too bright for them either but they found a way. Hi, I am who I am because you are and who you used to be. I am a reflection of the people whose birthrights were taken away so that I could keep mine. No, I am not a glorified posterchild, but I have found myself on walls that tried to take me down as if I didn’t deserve a chance to shine. I am light void of darkness because I am powerful and beautiful and more than enough.

I have fought for my right to belong in a place that told me that no matter what I did I would always need to prove myself. My home no longer looks familiar to me either because I have been gone so long I am probably a stranger to my own people. I guess I will never be worthy until I have the influence that allows me to be accepted everywhere I go. It is a money game, without it we are nothing. Its a jungle out here and only the rich survive. It’s funny how I just find myself always trying to fit in somewhere, always trying to be worthy. It really is hard accepting that I can be good enough, I lay awake at night, kept up by the boxes of confined spaces that my real self is left in.

I don’t know how I am expected to breath in small unforgiving spaces but I have been told all I have to do is stand up and walk away. I got tired of fighting at some point, lost my moral inclination to be better and to keep on keeping on but I guess I am over that now. Let’s get back to fighting for a place in the world, as a great man once said “Power, REAL power isn’t given, its taken”let’s take back what is ours.

I have started a new series called “ZAVAY”, I personally love it, so far it only has two works in it but I love the first one so much and I just connect to it in a way I can’t explain. Plus I think I just really love the word zavay, because I was sick of using English in my series titles and I really needed something and this is what I got. Zavay, arg it just makes me so happy saying it but without further much to do here is the first piece:


Castrated judgements born and bred in the heart of frustrations, stranded in the heat of moments negated to nowhere. Oblivious to the impending glum of doom gone wrong and storms stuck in the clouds. Glued up clues to skies that can’t reach the stars, we are statused to a life of crimson happiness only the rich can afford.

Casting our costs of crates piled up in dirt, it’s dangerous to shame the name of trumped-up beings with no sense. In a field of peppered pot plants driven out by the sweet scent of poison, it’s the ivy leagues that survive. Its a place of death this, it can’t taste the budding bundles of killers it produces.

Concealed spikes craving candid explanations of sin trips not taken. Punished sentries failing to polish their furnished border. Its borderline insanity that leads to formalized judgements of negated thoughts.

Stuck on runaways while running away to seek a stranded safety only islands can provide. Its a failed load on roads with no future prospects. Perspectives can be personalized if only you are willing to bear the brunt of the burden of worn down thoughts.

Dare to be, dare to become….. Become.

African child

Muttering of a King 2

I have for a long time felt that I operate better when I am not myself. For a long time, I struggled with that feeling, because the only thing that had made me not myself was the use of marijuana and I didn’t want to go back down that road. The second option was alcohol and for so long I resisted the urge to go to the bottle store and get myself a bottle. I struggled until I couldn’t anymore because, towards the end of 2017, I started drinking. My life was already spiralling out of control and it didn’t seem like the worst thing to happen.

Bioplus (energy booster) was another thing that made me not to feel like myself. There are a lot of decisions I made during my intoxication with Bioplus. I wouldn’t say I am now perfect and have let go of all these because its only been 2 weeks since my last alcoholic drink. disappointing I know. Today I bought another energy booster because I haven’t been able to work and as much as I don’t want to rely on something like this. it just feels like this is a sacrifice that I have to make now, for the sake of finishing the work in front of me. I just hope that my body can forgive me and that God does not look down on me in disappointment for failing to hold it together.

The third poem in the Mutterings series was written after I received a rejection letter from a job application. I had really wanted that job and was really hurt to get an “unfortunately we have decided to go with someone else” email. I was hurt yes, but I know that God has a plan for me and I had to hold on to that otherwise I will lose hope completely.

My soul salivates in anguish at the non-existent possibilities my imagination can’t help but create. Burning its permanence like a tattoo, this cauldron of expectation waits patiently albeit reluctantly for its presentation. Hoping the skies fall down to meet the point of revered grounds man whose only sin has been to crush the hands that reached for the stars.

Search now not the cold of heated moments stuck in time. Find later, yes the hot frequencies of snowed in conceptions bred from the wrongs of a youth who showed no mercy. Shower away the dirt of an impending mindset, wash down the disappointments with a pinch of acid and clean out the fires that protected the self-conditioned masks.

Make sure your insecurities are insured, the pandemonium caused by the leaks of their poison needs to be reigned in. Rain on the conspicuous abilities of some bodies to grinch on your parades. It sucks now dry the last drop of fear s enemy, hope, and minds its own business as if we both didn’t create the ideas of an ideal world that would satisfy our desires.

My soul salivates in drenched up dreams and nightmares that all look the same. I burn at the sensation of another not now but I am watered down by the promises of a maker that plans for me.

African Child

Releasing my words.

So today I have been thinking more and more about all of the times that I have broken down this year. I have found myself looking for something because there have been moments where I have just been utterly broken, to the point where I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, nothing made sense and it was just a horrible horrible experience. It is something that I can’t wish upon anyone.

Looking back now, I see that I have been through a lot. I have gone through so much and my struggles are not the same as the next person and they wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, the same way they make sense to me but that’s ok too. It’s not supposed to be the same for everyone we are all not supposed to experience the same thing and I’m fine with that.

I’m at a point where right now I’m preparing for the next stage so I’m preparing for what comes next in terms of my life, in terms of where God wants me to be and that’s something that I never thought I’d see again. That’s because during the first six months I lost my faith, I lost it completely and just lost my way as well as I was trying to figure out what I’m gonna do it my life if my life was even worth living. So to see where I am now and how far I’ve come to a point where I can pray, I can read the Bible and I can feel like God actually is listening to me and cares for me, that’s that’s a feeling I never thought I’d experience again.

I don’t know whether it was a rebellion or just a kid who didn’t know better. I look at the poetry I was writing during that time and I was so lost so so lost. Essentially I had lost my life. This is also during a time where I am president of an entire society and I’m expected to be a leader but I just found it funny that I couldn’t hide it anymore. Couldn’t hide my brokenness. There was a point where I got so tired of having to be strong out there and weak in here so I just didn’t pretend anymore and that’s the time where I feel like I just let go for my responsibilities, just saying stuff it honestly stuff it, what does it matter anymore.

One aspect that I have truly truly considered is that last year I had a target of getting 10 friends December 2017. I wanted to have 10 friends, not acquaintances, friends and I’ve never really counted but I think if I was too, I’d probably say I reached two or three. This year I didn’t have that plan, I didn’t think about it and I’m here now and I’m thinking of the people that I have to let go and they were a necessary, I don’t wanna say evil, but a necessary evil. It sucks I am sitting in my room right now, at 487 Richard Street I don’t know where you’re reading this from you know but on this morning now of 9 October 2018, we are sitting here not sure of what we’re going through because it is all a big mess, everything is just a big mess. It started again when I came back yesterday from Joburg and I don’t know what this place is doing to me *sigh* I don’t know what it’s doing to me.



Muttering of a King

God didn’t say this year was going to be easy and the last couple of days, I have been enlightened to a decision that I have to take in order to move on to the next level. It was never meant to be easy I know because if it was then it would not result in a testimony. I have to cut off a friend because she is not good for me anymore, probably never has been and I just didn’t want to see it until the signs became too much. I loved the comfort she provided, the comfort to lay bare my sins before her and know that she is listening but not really. Nothing I did or told would result in her judgement and same applied for her.

How can anyone expect to grow in such an environment? Where we are both comfortable in our sons and do not rebuke each other or dissuade each other from the bad stuff because we are just so deep in it. How can such a friendship produce any good fruit?

I am not judging her but I am looking at myself and realising that my growth depends on me taking a hard look at this friendship and the Prophet said yesterday (Friday 29 Sept 2018) that a new level is coming and if you do not cut off those friends you love so much then you will stay the same. I can’t afford to stay the same, I can’t afford the luxury of just being ordinary, it has to be avoided at all costs.

So I have lost a friend, just like my last post not to death but to life and today I wrote 2 poems in a series I am titling “Mutterings” and I couldn’t even finish the second one because it was about her and it does hurt knowing that I won’t rely on her anymore, so I only managed a paragraph and had to stop. But do enjoy the first poem in the series and hopefully if God will give me the grace I can then continue with the second one.


Segregated salutations of mortal beings that know not the effects of separation. Bound to bonds of breakable chains whose sweetness comes from its mirror-like qualities, giving the ability to see but not believe. We aren’t strangers to the condition of constipated individuals whose selfishness knows no bounds, no we are merely pawns whose ability to checkmate has been taken away.

We derive meaning from the less than savoury taste buds of those who have never tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. We chase after the unseen as if we have known it to exist. We conjure up mysteries and make believe the dreams of children whose only desire is to see the light. Do we really really also desire that do we really desire the light, or have we accepted that dark and gloomy is our perfect reality.

We resign the acceptance of anguish in tied up assets whose assistance to the mockery of our existence we disband. Disarming the very truth we fought for in times when fighting was attractive and killing was an honour. To the ends of regurgitating violence whose presence we can’t do without, oh if only it knew the joy it brings us, watching the pain of others as it chokes them and frees our muscles to enjoy this wonderful occasion.

Trapping straps of scrap we make still the waters’ wrath. Seeking wealth in stealth intentions, imprisoning sense in the scent of deception we allow the reception of a one-way door.


Twisting knives in the back of a humid summer body that shouldn’t have trusted it’s whisperings into the day. It’s not a surprise that you live now in my foresight because I can’t bring myself to see the weapons you hold right now.

I am left speechless at the moments of delicacy that left you joined to me. In weakness, it was the downplayed sins that made us feel like we were on top of the world. In the greed of passions unknown and territories not yet discovered, I sought to learn from my new test subject a new language, one that would destroy me but I couldn’t think of a better way to go.

We engaged in order of preference to mindless games that played both you and me before we could walk away. We danced to the rhythm of a beat that we couldn’t hear and ended up off key with two left feet. Like idiots, we entertained the ideas of grand luxury for a price we couldn’t pay.

Our road ends here and with it, so too do the midnight walks protecting us from the monsters we made and the late night talks on the new masks we made for each other. Now we end the lies of conceptualised realities we both told and in its place seek to grow redemption and resilience.

African Child

Dear Unoshamisa

It breaks my heart to see you like this, and my soul cries because of what you have become. There is no apology, no remark that could take your pain away right now and I crack at the sight of memories of who you used to be.

Never did I think it was possible that your bones would show through your shirt, never did I think it possible for your body to look as if it had gone through hell. I can’t take your pain away and we both know the bottle won’t either, and I know it seems quite hopeless right now making plans that might never see the light of day but Unoshamisa please don’t give up.

Your loss will be the death of me. And I know and understand that death has called for you but please don’t go out like this, please don’t let it take away everything you worked so hard for. It has come again for you by providing you with the one thing you wanted before you were to go to sleep.

I feel like I have failed you, I promised you that no matter what I would always have your back and I didn’t and I am so sorry. I ask that no matter what happens next, you may never look at me with contempt and hate. Don’t go angry at me please, I ask that you find a place in your heart to forgive me for failing you.

The plan was never to say goodbye to you but rather to build you up so much so that you see what I dreamt up for you. But I know we are past that point and I won’t hold you back by ignoring the issues at hand. You aren’t coping as well as you thought actually it’s probably as good as you anticipated. I don’t want to say goodbye to you but I will support you every step of the way, I will hold you up when your arms fail you and I will be there for you in those lightless nights, I will be there for you and if need be, I will be with you as you return to the dust from which you were made.

Dear Unoshamisa, I love you, I want you to know that even when your imperfections start showing on you, I will always look at you and see a hero whose heart for people was evident to everyone but him. I love you now and forever. Whatever you decide I am with you till the end…

African Child


To the EX I will never recognise.

It saddens me to think that this is the only other place in my life that I am willing to accept the role you occupied for a few months. I am sorry that I am too full of myself to let you be a part of the memories that made quite a few days memorable. Its because I can’t handle having to accept what I did to you. I can’t imagine a world where I take responsibility for breaking you into something you weren’t looking for. I am sorry that I kept quiet when I should have spoken out. I am sorry that for my own selfish desires, I told you I liked you when honestly I liked the situation.

I once told you that I asked to kiss you that first night not because I wanted to but merely because you were there and it felt as if it was something I had to do just to make sure I never wonder what if. I am sorry that I played with the very emotions I tod you to protect. I always alluded to the fact that you should leave me but never really had the guts to say it to you. Never had the guts to actually let you go. To a large extent, I guess I liked putting the weight of our relationship on you. I liked having you around to tell me the things I knew were true but had never heard out another human being before. I am sorry I stopped caring when those same words had no effect on me anymore.

I am sorry that I could never tell you how amazing you are, or how beautiful you are in the heat of day, but it was always easy to say in the dark of the night while we found ourselves in compromising positions. I was a boy who acted like a man because I couldn’t handle compromising for you. No, wait this is not the place to lie, I didn’t want to compromise for you. You did everything for me, went out of your way to see me and be around me and I returned that favour by basically not doing that.

See I could apologize a million times for what I did during our time together but it would all be pointless because the fact remains that we should have never been together, to begin with. I should have never invited you to come on that Saturday after Gala (only done by the way because I didn’t want to be alone). I should have never asked you to kiss you. I should have never let you come over on that Wednesday and most importantly I should have never sent you that message in December that led to January and that led us to this point right here.

My apologies mean nothing I know but it was important to me that hopefully one day, you would get to understand the man you dated for two months and had been seeing for four. He is far from perfect and he did you wrong and for that, this version willing to write this to you will never forgive him, I hope you will be able to.

African Child

Love Letter to love

Dear love, I hate you. Your non-existence has caused more pain than you will ever know and you seem not to care. I don’t know why you decided that I wasn’t worth your time. You never invited my heart to your Gatsby-like parties where joy and peace where the main entertainment. I hate how you watched me spill out the meaningless “I love you”, “I miss you”, “My heart will always be yours” nonsense to girls that will never speak to me again. You allowed my words to be meaningless when I was trying my best to speak you into existence.

Love, all you ever did for me was destroy the little belief I had in a better tomorrow. I have reached a point where I can’t see past the loneliness my heart is used to. Did I not, do I not deserve the same opportunity to feel as others apparently have. Why were you weaker than the pain that occupied the space that was reserved for you. See I hate that you left me to fend for myself in such a cruel cruel world and that you didn’t provide me with the same blindfold that would allow me to see the world as rainbows and sunshine. But do you really want to know what I truly hate, it is the fact that no matter how much I hate you if you were to knock on my door, I would open it for you.

African Child

When You Need Help

Hello world

Today I rediscovered the meaning of what is called “selective listening”. Now I am not the type to be open with everyone about my feelings but once in a while when I fall into desperate times I can’t help but let my feelings slip into a conversation.

Today I went to the arcade with some newfound acquaintances, dare I call them ‘friends’, and at the end of this adventure I was faced with two choices to either take the short route home or take the long one and I chose the long one. For one reason because I didn’t want to go home yet. So in the course of my conversation with two of my friends I did explicitly say that I wasn’t excited by the prospect of going home and though they heard me they really didn’t.

Selective listening is what we do to everyone who we speak to. When we are in a good mood, we chose to believe that everyone else is too and that means we ignore any calls for help from the other party. Today was not about them not giving me a chance to tell them how difficult the past few days have been but rather it was about them not simply asking if everything is okay.

I am not saying had they asked I would have told them what has been happening because Heck even I can’t explain to myself, I am just saying that it pained me to see what I had done to so many other people who I had spoken too, be done to me. So many times someone would say “things aren’t fine at home” or “I wish I had someone to talk to” and so many times I would just shrug them off instead of asking if they are okay.

I am not a shrink and I don’t expect everyone I talk to be one either but the help I am talking about is that one that comes from knowing that someone cares and even though they can’t do anything to change your situation, they are willing to give you an ear and let you cry if you need too.

Let’s not be selective listeners, people want the comfort from other human beings, let’s not leave our brothers and sisters out there to fend for themselves.
African Child