It's been a while since I wrote a song for the ones I love, been decades long since I hummed tunes of deliverance, been almost never since I believed in the songs I sing, haven't at all tapped to melodies of hope now of late, kinda seems as if I have missed even the end of the rainbow. I find myself strolling under a tunnel that seems to have no end, listening to records that have cracked rhymes, listening to the poets that have lost inspiration, getting invitations to events that never will materialise, soaking my head in buckets that lack faith, dressed in garments that poses no healing, preaching to the masses that seek no gospel, dangling from the roof by a thread, wrists bearing cuts, lips buried in all that intoxicates and my mind conquered by pain. Here I am, standing bare foot, drenched in the taste of my own tears, head lifted up to the heaven seeking answers, fingers of faith crossed awaiting the rain to fall and maybe an answer to my supplications. If the rain isn't yet destined for me but can it rain on and for the ones I care for knowing that when it all falls on them some drops of salvation, drops of redemption will fall on the follicle of my hair and that for now is enough.


You try and give it your best. Try some more and give it your all but it's all the same at the end of the day, every effort going without notice like you are just wasting your time and it get's really tiring because nothing you do is ever worth their praises



A fucker

Is one who selfishly feasts on the fruit of the receiver without shame
the one who fearlessly has both her hands in the candy jar
Selfishly putting the needs of the receiver first

A fucker
is an artist
One whose art is inspired by sounds, whose painting is inspired by moves
The strokes of her brush are rooted in her receiver for her receiver

A fucker
is a song
Every verse, every chorus, every hook is by and for the receiver

A fucker
is a musician
Whose lyricist is the receiver for the receiver
Selfish receiver

is a language
spoken by tongues
a language spoken without meaning


The very hand she used to greet me hello

to pat me well done

to tell me right there

now stand before me pointing get gone

the very arms she wore while holding me tender

that kept me from insanity

that cured me from myself

now stand dangling from the roof

pending my decease

else they will mother my decease

The very lips she used to sing me mellow to my slumber

those very lips that found warmth

way between my thighs

way inside my soul

now stand open

to spit venom to the world that was once ours

when she used to care

The legs she wore when coming to my world

When stepping into my thoughts

the ones wide open on my bed

as we gave birth to our sons and daughters

now stand open on my neighbours counter

the very neighbour

who used to come for supper

maybe you were for supper

I played hide and seek with the sun

till the moon came to her rescue

Had to answer to the winds of the clouds

threatening to bash the world with water

Something strange almost happened

thought I saw the ends of the rainbow

then I realised it was the nightfall

almost had me feeling loony

Never knew the sun had an after taste

until I suffocated on the scent she left on my clothes

when I hung them on the line

I sort of like her smell

The stars seemed kinda distracted

as if they had a new companion

sadly they left

as the rain chased them away

never got a chance to confront them

for their apathetic behaviour

now the rain owes me one

Mrs Nightmare had a plan

never fails to deliver

so I stayed up all night

to avoid her loud knock

she's not known for mercy

I saw the sounds of our destruction
Heard silently the voices coming from the pictures
Saying we've seen it all
Heard it all to share the tales
The tales of what came to be
At our watch
Thinking we were lifeless
To tell of the shame
Brought to the life by the gluttons of hate
Witnessed my soul disconnect from my flesh
Only to sit before me
Imploring that I listen
To the pictures like from the movies
For they have borne witness
To the witches that are now lifeless


The postman

Mr Weatherman never made it on time

to deliver the state of my day

But it rained that day

The bakery truck never came

I'm still stuck on yesterday's crusts

The radio died at the traffic announcement

Too late to hear what I was meant to hear

My throat to be congested with pain

The doctor refused to sign me a sick letter

No excuse to tell my boss

Forced to swipe into the gate

Across the road you stood

Fate had her hands sitting on after O'clock

Tick Tock!  Could no more kill the suspense

Your head buried in the sand

Your words sat neatly on that note

Tears left the ink of your words in splatter

How carefully you avoided the "WE’s"

Only in caps were your alphabets clothed

Set to penetrate through my mind

Maybe I wouldn't ask you why

Knowing you owed me "why"

So I planned to ask you why

In a font smaller than the rest

stood the crux of your note

No italics could lessen the volume hidden behind your words

though you somehow tried

still nothing could shelter the storms wrapped in your tone

so you shouldn't have tried

No dots could hide the freedom in your words

So you should have just kept it plain

No art could put out of sight the orphan you have made of my heart

Not that I'm ungrateful

but gratitude won't bring you home

Truth was never meant to leave our hearts merry

Shyly you typed the conclusion to our story


was all you could have said

Your eyes already have told

of the mystery behind your recent sins

Your silence already confirmed

the distance that kept your heart

away from my longing arms

Across the road you stood

delivering the end of our times

What a sad Postman you always will be

The sun lit brighter than routine

The winds blew with so much rage

The moon never came

The stars were less than ten, never could be my turn to fly higher than the eagles

That day never could be ordinary

Glitters in her eyes as she stood before me

Her voice shaking out the words of my calamity

Telling me we were called for a different era as tears rolled down her face

Unable to catch even one

Still playing catch up with my own

Her skin shivering to deliver the news of my fall

Tapping to tunes of what was, what never will be, what I never could be

Moving to sounds I never could hear

Lyricist to rhymes I never could feel

Humming her love is gone

Our time has come

To count our losses

To switch off the flames

Turn off the beat

March to paths that never will kiss hello



we ate from the apple of deceit

walking on forbidden lands

living on twisted truths

truth and lie equal to one

wisdom can never be for one

one whose paths never were pure

greed came in-between the one

whose purpose was to honour the one

who fathers the kingdom of the one


I am the best portrayal of beautiful open wounds and a God-fearing woman. I love beautiful self-respecting women I love poetry, I write poetry, I think poetry and I will boldly say that I am wordsmith and I am currently educating myself about pictures and paintings. I may not be easily moved by paintings, I may not be driven to my knees by paintings of crying women and children but I understand their relevance. That kind of communication is still somewhat foreign to me. That kind of speaking is still on infant's level to me. The one thing I have found comfort in for as long as I have been old enough to see, talk, touch and reason is the art of words, the art of poetry. I would almost fall asleep in exhibitions of paintings and all the silent things but words revive me, they liberate me, they comfort me, they console me, they are the voice of God to humankind. If there is anything words have taught me, it is that I can be anything and everything I was destined to be, if the earth cannot physically make me into all I was destined to be, my mind will definitely dwell in such a state. I may not have been blessed with the gift to utter words to the masses but God has given me the gift to utter words to myself through writing and that for now is enough for my own liberation.


Mystery uncovered - Crimes of hate Part 2

The 4th lesbian

The mystery has now been revealed to me as to how this comrade was put to sleep, she was apparently gunned down in Nyanga. This lady was "gunned down" meaning her death was no mistake; it was a well planned deed, a brutal act. These men had all the time in the world to see to it that her spirit and her body were no longer one. If they had so much time to gun her down, they also had time to do other things to her that we will never know before silencing her. I can just imagine how proud they were after "saving the world" by silencing this "thing" as I'm sure they called her. Imagine as they climaxed in laughter as they patted themselves on the back singing "ifile lento", walking away from their sins, leaving behind a soul disconnected from flesh. I can also imagine them dedicating every bottle of cider to their success as they drank away this "problem" they helped get rid of. Did the blood of human stop haunting the perpetrators? Awusekho umvandedwa? What happened to that little voice that tells us right from wrong? Has the world become so inhuman, so cold that we are able live with human blood dripping from our hands without shame, without disgust, without conviction? Are we now able to live our lives freely knowing we mothered the loss of a child to a mother? Has God fled from this world and are we now under Lucifer's yoke? Sexuality over life? Greed over mercy? Sin over salvation? Wrong over right? Lucifer over Christ? We now sit at the edge of our fall, sipping from our pain, feasting on our overflowing plate of despair, acknowledging our failure, angrier than before, fucking harder and more passionately than ever, more unsure than ever, raising our eyebrows to whomever will lend an ear, maybe an army, willing to submit even to the darkest of angels no matter the conditions of their favour. Who will save the "queens of the damned"? Jesus? Satan? Anyone?

I drowned myself in her love

I suffocated in her absence
Bumping into her in my nightmares
There she stood
My beautiful nightmare
Helpless I stood acknowledging my fall
Face to face I stood before the reality
The reality of me and her
Slowly I have sunk
Into too deep I have submerged myself
Involuntarily yet willingly I waved yesterday to my liberty
Tapping to her calling
My ancestor she became
Calling my name to paths defying destiny
Word for word she lured into her world
Tiny steps turned to running as I sprinted to the reality of me and her
Consciously I drowned myself in her love
To a point of no return I fled
My wrong turn kinda affection
Crossing fingers I be her wrong turn too

Whining and weeping
We have lost our shine
Bickering and smiling
Never can be one
Tragic is our fall


You are the kind that has an ego to dress the whole of Africa, you are mysterious and you love to keep it that way. Just like me you want the world to think you are perfect, you want the world to see how spotless your footsteps are and how pure the words that come from your mouth are. You are gonna think "what an asshole she is for thinking she knows me, no one knows me”, but I do, I know you. I might not know the mess you are going through but I know you, you have unconsciously opened yourself to me and I'm sure you want to kick yourself for it.

Push me away gently by AfroCentriq

Push me away, it’s alright but try to be gentle.

I'll unscrew myself from you, but just give me time to tell the heavens that you don't want me anymore.

Give me time to walk to the deepest oceans and throw all the beautiful moments we have had together.

Push me away gently, do it gently in a way that you won't even notice when I have unclipped myself from you.

Push me away gently so that I don't feel the pain of my loss.

Push me away gently so that I can tell the walls of hell that my joy has left me.

If you push me away gently you will see I'll be gone without troubling you.

Do it slowly, give it time, I'll surrender.

Letters to my Rainbow

It's been a while since I saw you face to face, since our skins sang the same song, and danced to the same jam. Lately we have relied on the sound of our voices, tapping to memories that we once upon a time shared. Lately we have moaned pleasure through the wire; certain it can never take away the scent of our physical interactions. Lately I have heard you cry, too far to mend you complete, too far to dry your tears, too far to hold you tight but my words I have given you, a bucket full of words hoping they'd last you long enough till you lay in my arms once more
How I miss your careless laugh, that hooligan kind of laughter that leave me in stitches of embarrassment, that un-lady like smile you shed on me like light, how I miss the feel of your hair on the tip of my fingers, the tone of your voice when we host sexual devotions, how I miss to bask in our loud silence, to bask in our historical conversations.
I cannot pledge to take away the storms of your heart, the calamity in your world, but I can make you smile through the storms, through the pain. I pledge to make you mine against all odds

I sang for you

You came to me already burdened with yesterday, already weary, already a non believer,  you came to me already wounded, clothed in fabrics that represented scars but somehow I thought I could save you, bring you to redemption with my words, the words that best sang the tunes of my heart. Fell in love with you until I stopped fighting it, truth was you were now a part of my soul, not even denial could alter that. Like a book I slowly opened the pages of my heart, fed you with all the knowledge of me, I thought you could tell of the impact you now had on me, I thought you could see how proudly I wore my heart on my sleeve, I thought you could see how barren life will be without you. I opened the legs of my heart, hoping you’d plant your seed of faith in me, hoping you’d feel the warmth of my soul, hoping you’d take a walk of revival within my soul, hoping you’d be born again. But there you stood, covered in sins of distrust, more doubtful than ever, pushed the doors of your heart on my face, breaking me to pieces with your disbelief and all I could do was sing for you, I sang for you, tunes meant to soothe your heart, hymns to turn you into a believer, I sang you scriptures to my heart but never have you been so deaf. Foolishly and blind to your truth that was my truth I sang on, soaked in tears I sang for you, hoping you’d see my tears, hear my cries, maybe see my heart. I stood there, waiting for you to tap to the melodies of my heart, waiting for you to be a believer, waiting for you to let me be your saviour. In words I sang for you, serenaded you with words meant to marinate your heart to deliverance.

Crimes of Hate

This weekend was a very sad one for the LGBTI community, having to lay to rest 4 of our kind due to hate crimes and these 4 deaths were followed by another 4 which happened this very weekend. One lesbian named Busi was killed in Tembisa, a couple’s house was burnt down with them inside and the fourth lady’s death still remains mystery. I cannot begin to express how scared I am and how unsafe I think Johannesburg has become, in fact Gauteng at large is unsafe, we have no hiding place, we are been gotten rid off as if we are less human, like we are animals. We have become known for our sexuality, labelled less human or even dragons and sometimes devil worshippers because we find satisfaction in the Eve’s of this world. Pastors preaching against us as if they have been promised seats in the heavens. Our mothers and fathers disowning us because we didn’t turn out as well as the kids next door but in all their disappointments and disapprovals, we remained unchanged, we remain rooted in the skin of Eve, still we find comfort in our very own kind, we still remain what we were before their hate and crime.


So cry if you need to, but I can't stay to watch you
That's the wrong thing to do
Touch if you need to, but I can't stay to hold you
That's the wrong thing to do
Talk if you need to, but I can't stay to hear you
That's the wrong thing to do
Cause you say you love me, and I'll end up lying
And say I love you too
- Drake
I feel you in my bed when I sleep
My pillows still bear traces of your scent
To strong sometimes as if you are to resurrect from the space