Politics Of The Centre

I found my being at the centre of her being.

With her legs parted we said endless prayers begging

Eternity to begin just now and pin us

Down to our forever’s.

We said silent prayers and remembered things that

Our mothers and fathers said to us.

They said

“Woman was made for men, her womb as an

Offering to her lifetime husband. Her vagina the

Bearer of sexual stories that please only her man

As culture and religion and patriarchy intended it to.

They told us.. Homosexuality, lusting after  another woman

Is Un-African.

Then we remembered that Africa is a cradle of life, humanity

And civilization. Therefore it serves as a cradle of all sexuality.

Homosexuality existed here before Pyramids were erected and

The Nile River started flowing. before the Bushman and Hottentots 

occupied the South of Africa.

It was at the pick that was higher than Mouth Kilimanjaro,

In a place that was dryer than the Kalahari Desert, homosexuals

Found water underneath each other’s tongues and recited

Song Of Songs that led to all of eternity.

Don’t tell me about the politics of the centre.

I found my centre at her centre where religion

And culture restricted me.

I found fulfillment in her squirming and squirting.

With hands that only conceded love,

And fingers that only knew the magic of getting into her soul.

So I tapped her, tapping into her.

Africa is the origin of us.

I aint gonna feel sorry for finding Pleasure between

Her legs, and the wetness of her center.

She is my Eve, this fruit I shall devour sinlessly .

If Jesus came back tomorrow, I will kneel before his

Cloudy image calling  him Messiah, reminding him

Of tales I know of him from the Book they proclaim

Holly. I will say, King of the Sabbath, Son of Joseph

And Mary, I love her.

The Way your father in heaven loved Abraham

And Jacob. The way you loved the Israelites .

My soul before is a sacrifice I offer just as long as you offer

Me a chance to love her.

I beg. Speaking in poetic tongues, even Paul

And the Corinthians could these lines comprehend.

I Love a Woman

Politics of the Centre…

Words I Dont Wanna Hear...

There are other words I don’t want you

To use in my presence.

A bunch of empty I Love you’s, I need  you’s,

These have become nursery rhymes,

Everyday hymns with meaning peeled away

From them, so you recite them to me

To comfort me with them, and put me

Sleep so I won’t be awake to the fact that

Lies coat every word that your mouth spit.

There are other words I don’t want you

To utter in my presence.

I know, you whispered the same words

To another person who promised you

The world, shining Gold ring on your left

Hand’s second finger. Now

I wonder if you told them these with your eyes

Glowing with a smile,

Or with your hand on their face looking

Into their soul and with your lips slightly

Parted, kissed them.

My mind is making noise,

Speaking things I don’t wanna hear,

Im tryna silence it with this poem.

Paranoia must end with this full stop.

(She Loves Me)

Snap!

ok, still there are words you

Are not allowed to recite in my presence,

Ever.

If True Love Existed

I wish I was still about 10 years old.

Pushing wire cars, mud cows, climbing cliffs

And trees, throwing stones in a dam with still

Waters, heading cows home at sunset,

Playing house with siblings and singing wedding songs,

Because back then, everything seemed perfect

From the top of the mountain where I stood

Counting wishes, counting years, wanting to

Be old so I can have kids of my own, go to

Work, and yes, wear a white wedding gown,

Going down the aisle in a church full of people.

I believed in love once.

I'm furiously pushing this pen,

Pushing tears away from my eyes,

Furiously forging these words,

Forcing my heart beat to slow down so

My heart don’t escape me.

My eyes are cloudy from tears I've cried,

Can’t see stars in anyone’s eye; especially yours.

I push words you’ve told me out of my ears.

“you, loud, shut up, I don’t wanna hear it.”

I been tryna tap into my soul just to find

One place in the corners of my inner self that

Hasn't been slayed, so I can just sit there, and

maybe find what I once believed in.

believe that maybe Princess charming exists.

if true love existed, I wouldn't even question it.

If true love existed, we’d be singing songs of love

Salvation to each other now and this poem would have

Never came to existence.

If true love existed. She would be true.

I would be true.

We would be truth, and we would be enough

For one another.

But it doesn’t.

Cupid never existed,

And fate

failed

Pillow Talks are Overrated

Pillow talks are over rated

So in the last days I opted for pillow

Fights like I knew you were gonna

Sip through the cracks of my fingers like

Water because I couldn't cage you, you had to flow.

In the last days, I opted for pillow fights, asking

You between giggles, and unforced laughter

If all sane couples do things we do.

I opted for pillow fights, instead of talking to you

Under sheets and making love to you all day and

All night because that’s overrated.

For a moment, I captured that childlike love

With all of me, for that  instant everything was right.

In the last few days, I opted for pillow fights,

I Chose to read the palm of your hands and guided my fingers

Through your hands examining your hand’s most

 Visible lines and told you:

“This is your life line; it determines how long you gonna live”

“This is your head line; it determines the level of your intelligence”

“This is your heart line; it determines maters of the heart.”

On the palm of your hands, I searched for my name too,

I wondered if I was meant to even look your way.

I imagined you as a screaming infant newly brought

To life, if angels gathered for your christening and

On purpose, wrote our fate on your hands.

At that moment, I pushed doubt away, pulled

Faith closer and as I poked you, pulled, teased you

Prayed to God that you are the woman I want

To raise my kids.

In the last few days, I opted for pillow fights,

And watching wrestling matches, sipping black tea

And playing Facebook games… this was contentment.

But I guess, I was never right. I missed certain

Chapters of this fairy-tale. I skipped to my desired end,

Meanwhile between the pages, this was a sham and

Came crumbling down.

Cinderella never existed.

In the last few days, I opted for pillow fights

Because pillow talks are overrated. 

You Still Insist I Don't Think of You in My future.

I've stood countless nights

Counting stars. Pointing each one

With hands that hold you tight and

Caress you day and night even in

My dreams and thoughts about you.

I point each twinkling being and name each

And everyone of them after you.

Coz' when i'm walking under the dark sky

When the sun has rested beyond the west horizon

Stars come out to shine and every time they

Do, I think of them as you looking down

At me with a watchful eye that sprinkles

Love from all dimensions of the universe.

And you say I don't think of you in my future.

I walked on the Indian Ocean beach sands

Collecting shells. With teary eyes I gave them names.

Every time I threw one back into the roaring Ocean

I spoke on them and made wishes.

I threw the first one called LOVE and silently whispered to it:

“as long as I cant get you back from the deep

Ends of this Ocean, I shall love her. She shall be

One with me as you are one with the Ocean”

I threw the second one called FAITH, I spoke

To it with memories of you gashing through

My brains and I saw your vivid smile and said to it

“As long as I cant get you back from the deep

Ends of this ocean, I shall have Faith in us.

I shall be one with her as you are one with this ocean.”

Then the others followed. Trust, Time, Truth, Lifetime.

And you say I don’t think of you in my future.

I've battled with my ancestors in my dream

Begging for them to rest my calling,

I've begged them on the edges of where they dwell

And asked them to accept you as their ancestral

Wife, and they swore, looking down at me with 

Eyes full of fury that they will send rage down on me.

Still I knelt before them and narrated the way

You are a God given gift to me.

The way you warm me up every time I feel

Your genuine love through your heart beat.

The way you are the woman that gave birth

To my son and knew that, time will glue us together

As one family. I begged them clapping hands, refusing bones

and their divinity, Pushing them away from my locks. I told them.

“ngiyisizukulwane senu, ubizo lwenu ngzolwamukela

Kepha ngamukeleni nginje, akekho engfun ukumthanda

Ngaphandle kwakhe.”

And you still insist I don’t think of you in my future.

Untitled Prose

Dare not stop your heart from beating.

I never meant to make it pump fury and bleed fire.

Never meant to juggle your feelings like marbles in the

Palm of my skilled hands, and pop them like dices on

Dusty streets of Soweto.

Forgive me for the plan was never to play with your love,

I’m still of human nature could never find humour in such.

The plan,

The plan was to love you from the beginning, pour out my love

To your soul only, because my heart really roared for you.

How I wish as the sun rises tomorrow, I could, with these bare

Hands that were meant to bring you joy wipe away the tears

That flow from your eyes and the fear of the future that sparkles

From them. (but somehow I can’t)

You were never a bet, so you could have never been just a game for me.

I know word on the streets state that I’m an all-time player.

You think I’m whole?

You think thoughts of you don’t cross my mind every day?

Forgive me for messing with your head. I never meant to keep

You guessing, God knows I also tried.

Forgive me for scribbling with your emotions,

Dare not throw stones for I loved you the best way I knew how.

Emotions are never feebleness, forgive me for allowing

You to reason like that.

See, my love was never of falsehoods. Loving you at some

Point revolved to be the only choice I had, the only thing

I woke up to, like breathing it was part of me.

But…

Often it felt I was never enough to mend your broken soul

And shadow fears that were engraved in you even before I came along.

You looked at me with eyes full of doubt and fear from day one.

You left an openly un-attended door, with a watchful eye waited

For me to make my way out.

You would never try to hold me, pull me close to where your heart thumps,

Let me feel the rush of blood that flows in your veins

And let me love you like I had intended to.

You gave up on us before we even began.

My knees weakened as I felt the pressure of standing for the both of us.

Still, girl, I loved you with all of me.

Forgive me for confirming your beliefs about love and friendship.

Forgive me for breaking your trust.

Forgive me for leading you to wrong paths.

Forgive me, for a woman with a heart is a woman with everything.

Possess this.

I still would have loved every broken piece of you L

Fulfilled My Fantasies

Woman.

You had my fantasies rewarded.

With every kiss, I wanted to hold on to your course

Hair, with every stroke I climbed a ladder to heaven

Where eternity lives, where Angels glide on cloud 9,

Where golden gates are a reality.

With every stroke, every muscle within the fragile

Parts of my body tensed up and released, tensed up and

Released. Tensed up, and released.

Couldn't hold it in. you made me flow to new realities.

Screaming, squirting, scratching, turning and tossing.

I could not have wanted you any closer than this.

I was hostage to your capable hands, stroking the

Most hidden parts of me, you detained me into this

Moment and falling detainee to you was what

Enchanted me.

Pulling on sheets behind me, bending my torso, partying legs,

Wanted you to have your way in. you made me curl my toes and

Feel vibrations throughout my body, descending to you I felt

Lifetimes beginning.

I Love you. You said.

Silence.

Pressing up against you, breathing heavily against your ears,

Pushing my pelvis against your hands, squirting from the inner most

Parts of me was the only way I could respond!

The Final Truth

THE FINAL TRUTH

So here I am wearing my heart on my sleeves

To the tip of my fingers tempting to pour out

All its felt but untold emotions on this blank

Piece of paper. Words are still my closest friend,

They know the true story about me and the thoughts

That always crowd my mind when I’m alone with self

Trying to make sense of who I’ve became, and

Who hurt me so bad that I should despise love with all

That it stands for even when I’ve seen one person that my

Heart could be capable to love with all that it’s made of. Trying to

Make sense of things and feelings I always try to

Run away from in broad day light because I do

Not wanna be perceived as weak and emotional.

Words are still my best friends and right now they

Carry my heart and they refuse for me to lie in this poem.

They refuse for me to use them in hiding things.

And they refuse for me to bottle them up in my thoughts.

So here comes the truth in the perfect match of black

And white. Here comes the truth that has blossomed like fresh flowers

Newly sprung in spring. Here comes the truth revealing

The I in me, revealing the self. Here comes the truth, it had

To be told, I’ve sold myself in loneliness and lies for far too

Long now, when all I was longing for was just you.

your warm hands perfectly tucked in mine, your head safely rested

Upon my shoulders, and if you lifted it just one ounce your

Chick will be against mine and I would just long to lift your

Chin; tilt your head till my lips meet yours. This picture is just

All I’ve been constructing in my mind ever since I knew you.

I know this I’ve never told you, and you have studied

Me concluded that I possess a rare phobia of commitment,

Thus I toy around with other people’s emotions but still

Protecting myself.

You have studied me wrong, if you studied me right

You would realise the way I look at you, the way I block

Tears in my eyes every time because I do not know how

To look into your eyes and make you believe that you’ve

Made me feel like I’ve never felt before.

If you studied me right, you would know that I haven’t told

You this because I’m afraid of the fragile woman that you

Are and I find myself not worthy of you.

If you studied me right then you would know that

I love poetry more than life because it gives me life,

Therefore my poetry never lies, and this one just told

The truth of how I really feel about you.

I do love you.

STUCK IN TIME

Forgive me father for not believing

That your timing is always just perfect.

I’m stuck in time...

Butterfly wings floating in what used to be,

Memories of me and her, her and me.

I’m stuck in time...

I wanna find a leprechaun and abduct it.

Maybe the mythological little man of ancient

Folk law will grant me three wishes. 

I will look up to the sky holding stars

 in these very hands

That used to hold her; 

I’ll hold stars in between my laced

Two hands and believe nothing is impossible.

 Ill Wait and sing a prayer of these wishes. 

My three wishes are simple,

God am I asking for too much.

Grant me my son, her, our family.

At the end of this rainbow may

we find our hidden treasure?

Our golden pot of love that existed even before Christ

Came into existence, 

when the Goddesses of love like Venus

Ruled the universe and gave birth 

to the ancient believed in Cupid.

At the end of this rainbow I wanna find lost time, and re live

Memories like it was just yesterday,

At the end of this rainbow 

I wanna find a heart that once

Captured mine, maybe we will make endless love,

 float In magical clouds with Angels blessing us in unison.

We shall make endless love and in my womb we shall neat

Another being with art and poetry of her egg and my egg (it’s possible).

We shall name this new being Isis, the ancient Egyptian Goddess of

Fertility and magic for the magical connection

Between us could never be denied.

At the end of this rainbow…

I wanna find truth.

God I’m stuck in time.

Unseen Thoughts About You

set me free.
touch my soul
not with your hands
(reserve those for my delicate bottom).
but with your smile.

set me free and smile.
i remember vividly the
first time i saw you smile.
i blossomed from within
like a morning in early spring
with birds melodically singing
away, calling the sunlight to life,
picking with their beaks the early
morning dew over soft green grass.

i smiled and though i shall
confess that i perved over you.
my mind couldn't resist but race.
i recited unseen poems, never written,
hidden ancient porn poems
of the love making i wanna
share with you.
in my mind i dared undress you.
your life giving hills in the
capable palm of my hands.
willingly i explored contours
of your body,
we emerged to the heavens
and back.
we, emerged to the
future,
we came to acceptance.
this is right.
so we breath into
each other in slow motion kisses,
souls singing,
body's sinking and rising
into one another in unison.
unicorns sure even exists
because this magic exist too.

Pause!!

lets rewind,
out of my dirty mind.
i said set me free my stud lover,
touch my soul.
im ready,

Pregnant Butch Women

before i even start this article, i will first state that i will say it LOUD. the whole aim of my blog after all is to say things that people still fear to talk about or things that are considered to not be normal in the lesbian communities.

this article was inspired by a post i followed on facebook. the poster stated "ngathi uyanda lomkhuba wama butch amithayo" (this trend of butches who get pregnant is increasing rapidly.) i am not going to be the one who is going to justify why butches get pregnant and whether or not they should or should not fall pregnant. i followed this person's posts for quiet some time; on a regular basis she finds the need to post a nasty comment about butches who get pregnant. what is more interesting is the comments that will flood the post with about 99% of the commenters agreeing with her bullshit of a post. this is a butch lesbian woman who has a son about 9 years old. well, im sure she justifies being a butch mother because she had that child before she could label or classify herself as butch.

her other post was directed to femme lesbian woman she asked: "Ma Femme wena ungenzenjani if your Butch Lover got Pregnant." her other post said: "its Better for a femme to be pregnant, there is nothing as disgusting as a pregnant butch woman." with all this posts, i just click the get notifications icon and follow comments and be amazed by the stupidity of the lesbian community, the butch ones in particular.
i would like to state my case and say, a butch lesbian woman is no less of a woman that a femme lesbian woman. they both have the bottom side that can open to things going in, a womb that can accept swimming semen, Fallopian tubes that bear eggs that break every month and thus leading to menstruation.a butch woman secretes hormones like Progesterone too, this hormone makes sure the endometrium gets lined up every time and ensures that if this person got pregnant, the womb will be more than capable of carrying a child. they have breasts that can very much secrete milk.

butch lesbian women also have a need, a natural need to nurture. as one gets older they feel the yearning to have children and have seeds to call their own. as a butch lesbian woman, it is never easy to just wake up one day and say now i will marry a man and have children and be happy for the rest of your life. but that yearning to be called a mom and a have children of your own is always there, it never goes away. when one labels themselves as butch, this does not mean they do not possess femininity within them or can not feel what other women feel. we all desire something we can really call our own, and that something most often is "Children".  
not long ago i was watching an episode of "Between women.". Mia (Butch) was telling her wife that she wants to have another child and she said "I will carry it." so in my mind i was thinking: "if Mia walked around as a pregnant butch woman in South Africa, she was probably going to be the talk of the town and a disgrace to those who think of themselves as more butch than others." that is the problem right there we tend to think we know more about other people and we box them in our little minds and make stupid conclusions about their lives. we think we know what the right way of being a Butch lesbian is. we have formulated formulas, and recipes of what butches should act and behave like. we forget that one is human before being a lesbian, one is a woman before being a lesbian, one is a lesbian before being a butch lesbian.

in this time and age there is a variety of ways that can help women conceive without even having slept with a man. the procedures are usually costly but a couple can budget for it and if the couple decides among themselves that the Butch one in a relationship is the one who is going to carry the child then let it be. if other couples can not afford the invitro then so what if they make that sacrifice of one sleeping with a person that the couple both trusts so that they can conceive. i know a lesbian who was at a point where she desperately wanted to have kids and she obviously could not afford medical procedures so she asked her gay best friend if they could just do it to have a kid and they both had a mutual agreement. their partners agreed to it too.

i think its about time we pay attention to what we do and forget about what everyone else is doing. if you feel your way of being a butch lesbian is a right way than keep at it, keep your standards, keep your stereotypes, keep your everything that makes you sleep better at night, but do not dare dictate what is right to you to anybody else because your right may be their wrong. what i have noticed too is that people make a mistake of thinking that being a lesbian is measured according to who one has sex with, if you think lesbianism is about sex, then revisit your definitions. emotions do not reside in ones vagina. if a lesbian woman wakes up one day and decides she wants to experience what sex with a male person is like, that should not be anybody's business. that for me does not also make her less of a lesbian than anybody else. i am not trying to condone anything here but i just want people to start thinking out of the box. i want people to do what feels right with them and stop judging other people or measuring other people according to certain standards. we are all different in our own right. we all have different journeys that we walked and are still walking towards discovering ourselves and our sexuality. it is never an easy over night journey. what your sexuality means to you may differ from what it means to someone else.

to butch women, i would like to say; it is ok to be pregnant, it is ok to be a woman and a bearer of children, it is ok to keep life growing in you. be proud of yourself for wanting to be a mother. others get pregnant, lie about being raped, others abort their babies because they feel that its better to live a lie, its better to hide truths from the community that will viciously judge. IT IS OK. butch women deserve families too and that does nor make you any less of a lesbian

I SAID IT LOUD

YOU SAT HEAVILY ON MY SUBCONSCIOUS

You sat Heavily on my Subconscious.

You existed in my mind

beyond my conscious, 

so my dreams revealed you in my sleep. 

There i did and confessed things

i cant in my conscious life.
I closed in on this dream, 

held it so dear and brought it closer 

to my closed eyes so i can see

with the spirit,

just so i can have a clear unpolluted image of you,

hear the waves your voice makes 

and feel your touch as i would in my busy reality.

So I kissed YOU.

And i woke up with your fresh breath

in my soul and your scent in my mind, 

and my nipples couldn't lie because 

i allowed you to nibble on them in my dream.

You existed in my mind 

beyond my conscious 

so my dreams revealed you in my sleep.

This time; caged in the serenity of this all, 

i couldn't help but surrender. This time; chained in the truthfulness of this all, 

I couldn't starter or tell lies

.

In my waking life, i run, i hide, i lie, i deny.. Slowly i forge and push thoughts of you away 

and hide under the busy schedule of my life.

This ain't fair, and even now, i know i speak in riddles,

but..

My conscious couldn't lie.

Help me tell the truth.. Help me find my way to you, 

and in the tranquility of the space 

where our souls will meet, 

promise 

you 

wont 

let 

me 

go.

I Am Dating a Stud. A Butch Lesbian Woman

after my first article titled "i wanna date a stud" was written, it got a lot of positive responses; and i must say, it was the most read article of all the article and poems i have ever written. some said it liberated them, and of course there were those that challenged me and the issues i raised in the article, but all in all those were positive responses and i loved the conversations the article sparked. the conversations led to a whole lot of other things i still want to write about like the values of the LGBTI community vs Personal values (where does one draw the line? To what extent do all these matter and what do they really mean?) and the history of the LGBTI, the labels especially the butch ones. i also want to explore why the quest for queerness is such an endless journey. but of course these are topics for another day.
in my article "i wanna date a stud", i said when i do find that butch sexy lover of mine i will write endless stories about us and let the world know how much of a blessing our relationship is and just to point out that it is as normal as any other relationship. so i am dating a stud and this is a a commitment and friendship article to her.

when i first met her my heart couldn't submarine, i swear it felt like it just had roaring lions only screaming her name and right there i knew that i want to create lifetime memories with her. the kind that would be imprinted on my soul like paws of lions on a desert with the softest sand ever found on earth. its kind of a liberating feeling knowing for sure with no doubt that you just want to loose yourself and love like you have never loved before. that you just want to hold that one person's hand in public and through thick and thin, darkness and light, sunrise and sunset, when all you want to do is proclaim to the universe as a whole that you just want to love and you want to love that one person right like rain upon blossoming flowers (that natural).
when i first looked into her eyes, i glowed. words could not escape my throat so without a word i embraced her, i drawed her closer to me, put her on my bosom as close as anyone can ever be to me. infact i wanted to open my heart and just tuck her there under its contours then she would know it bears no lies. when words finally escaped me i said: "i shall never let you go."

over the months that i have known her she has become a big part of me. she has become my best friend and we are committed to each other. when thunderstorms declare to tear us apart i will hold her oh so dear and say that this is just the beginning of rainbow magic for us, that this is the beginning of clear horizons filled with singing birds and birth of new stars in our endless universe. all i want to do is just to love her right. when i can't talk and i just want to shut the rest of the world out, i want her to be the only person i can let in with no fear and doubt. you see, i just want to love this soul like a friendship that began in kindergarten. this is the type where we laugh at each others bad jokes that are not really funny but because we are the only ones who get them. this is the type where we walk around the pavements of Jozi streets chewing ice cream cones like little kids, go to bed with each other on that single bed that i own wearing the Smurfs and Spongebob pyjamas (im totally buying her those for her birthday :-) ).

i am stud and i am dating one too. she is my friend because she is the only one that gets me right, loves me rights, and of course sexs me right. :-) at times we would get silly and greet each other with that "sho boi" tip and put our shoulders against one another. i love this because i know still that this is a woman that has a heart that silently sings love songs and recite love poems about me and the journeys we are still yet to walk together. when life weighs hard on our shoulders and we feel our knees on our physical bodies can not carry us any more; our spirits meet in silent places where love began, where Angels drafted down our names connecting them to forevers and evers and evers. we do meet in those silent places and the spiritual winds blow us towards each other and glew us to new beginnings and everything feels so refreshing.

i am dating a stud, i am still constantly, everyday learning to let her in. i am ready to let her be the one to hold my heart with her bear hands that breath fire to purify the pain and hurts of all the past relationships that never worked out with any other women. i am willing to let her touch all the wounds with her bare hands because i have entrusted her with my heart to stitch it back together with her gentle kisses and warm embraces.
i am willing to let her in and let her see the tears that i have always cried in the dark before her, i know she has the ability to wipe them away turning the salty bitter taste to sweet taste of joy.
i am saying this again, all i want to do is love her right and keep our relationship sacred. i do believe that she came just at the right time. no one can love me more than she does and yes, my heart still feel like the first time i laid eyes on her. it still burns with passion and desire and roars.

last but not least, who ever game you information about studs im sure they have never encountered one. there is a rumour that can never be true that 'butches' do not want to be touched in any sexual manner, they like to dominate and be the givers never the receivers. (which butches have you been dating gal!) hence butch to butch relationships are always frowned upon because people *femmes especially* think butch to butch and be like, "sooo, how do you guys have sex, who dominates who?" i always smile and think to myself "oooh you of little knowledge and understanding". all i know is that when i am in a room with my stud love, the climate changes we turn it up to another level of climaxes. we go all the way around each others bodies in all the corners of the house. as soon as those boxer shots are off we just feast on each other and fill our souls. we touch, grab, squeeze, lick, clit on clit......
ok. before i give too much information about my bedroom i want to say this. i am dating a stud, and yes i am one too and its the best of all the relationships i have ever heard. we are going for two years together now. who knows, the next time i tell our story i will be saying "i married a stud. Suits And All."

i have not seen anything different with my relationship from those of Butch to femme relationships. those ones are usually just to buy face and portray some image that was historically created by a heterosexual community .*I SAID IT LOUD*

Genuine Black Pearl

Genuine Black Pearl...

They say the natural Pearls 

are rare in the wild, 

so harvesting takes time.

I'm known for patience so i'll wait.

I'l write these craving for you,

yearning for you,

lusting for you poems

till my conscious will allow me

to pour out the rare truth of my soul.

your palm on mine, 

hope your soul can expose it sickles,

gravitate towards mine and 

harvest its burning passion and desire. Then, ill be your Oyster,

my body will be a nest for yours, 

and we shall swing and sing songs

that only art can comprehend. Hard burning passion shall flow 

from our coarse hair as we cling 

to each other's every hair and 

these very hairs shall become 

a ladder to heaven and purity 

and endless magic that only 

Angels can comprehend...

And we shall moan and speak 

in the tongues of the God's , 

it doesn't get more spiritual than this...

As I COME ....

closer to making a home for the 

genuine rare Pearl in the corners of my heart..

#TheHarvestBeWorthTheWait

#TheCulturedButterfly

http://www.autostraddle.com/butch-please-anxious-little-butch-156309/ 

wow.. loved reading this. i couldn't have said anything better myself. for more go to the link above and read up.

"I find that queerness is a very anxious state. Society demands of queerness a continual need to prove oneself and one’s non-normativity over and over again. Society asks for testimonies and narratives as part of this proof, and it becomes an exhausting and anxious process, this turning out our pockets and saying “I fuck this way, so I can prove I am this. I dress this way, so I can prove I am this. I jump through your hoop, so I can prove I am this.” And ultimately the proof has nothing to do with whether or not we wish to belong in this society: It has everything to do with survival, with the understanding that to continue and thrive, we do have to toe certain hegemonic lines or be forever banged along in the process.

 Anxiety on a butch is no different than anxiety on anyone else, but somehow I feel an immense shame as a result of the two’s interactions. As a butch, I feel as though I am meant to be the strong stable one whose issues are either well-tucked away or easily addressed"

I ONLY SOLD YOU AN IMAGE...

Article to follow. its actually one of my favorite ones because it just proves that people buy the clothes that one wears. they think they can tell a butch from a femme by the clothing that they wear. so what am I? *as i await my label*  :-) and it is the truth that we cant deny, lesbians judge each other and classify each other according to clothes.. #Loud

Breastfeed Me

Let me suckle on your breast.
Breastfeed to life, back to the land of the living.
Let me swallow love so true and alive from you.
Let me swallow the last love I’ll ever know for ill

Never be thirsty for another woman's nakedness again.

BREASTFEED ME.
Like and infant newly born,

Take me into your arms and school me

About what love, passion and intimacy should be like.
Pacify me and let me never yearn for more than this.
Let’s build a bond like that of mother to child.

BREASTFEED ME TO LIFE.
Breastfeed me loyalty and wisdom.
Breastfeed me my most accurate poems.
Supply me with nutrients of subsistence and rectitude.
Protect me against allergies of falsehoods and lust.

Protect me from infections of this deadly world,

So that I’ll always listen to you with an open

Soul and take you in.

Let me digest you.
Build my bone structure so i can always

Stand true and firm in loving you.

BREASTFEED ME.
Hold me skin to skin.
Give me a gift of a lifetime.
Secrete fire from your nipples,

I’ll drink it like milk that will cleanse me

And cement me to new beginnings and

Forever’s of just you and me.

Take it all off...
I want you to breastfeed me to life

And sink me into the sacredness of this all.

Breastfeed me to life.

#‎TheCultured_Butterfly

My Lady Plays The Piano

My Lady plays the piano.
Her fingers do splendid electrified magic
on my body because she knows all

The right keys and i can’t help but

Produce music towards her 
bare body and soul.
I wear my heart on the openness
of my palms and stand true before her.
I let her undress untold stories of my spirit,

And i say silent prayers to my maker

Pleading for just seconds to turn into

Eternity of me and her.

#TheCultured_Butterfly

Silondiwe Mathebula

Her Shadow Leaned on Mine

Her shadow leaned on mine

and my soul whispered to hers to

open up and come just a

little bit closer to me,

till her skin can lean on mine

learning hidden stories of my

heart from the pores of this very skin.

Her shadow leaned on mine,

i felt its heaviness yet i was

ready to carry her being,

let her lips lean on mine and

explore poetry hidden in my tongue,

melodies hidden under this very tongue.

I was ready to let my bare body

sing to the tune of hers,

let her fingers play on my

sensitive parts till i COME to my senses.

Shiiiittt..

Her shadow leaned on

mine and i unlearned my shyness,

with fantasis becoming reality i was

riding on this wave of pleasure,

my heart was in tides, 

her touch was my moon,

i pulled closer to her sky and i was

ready to escalate with her to the

universe of endless fairytales, our fairytale..

Her shadow leaned on mine

and I was ready to eat the

Apple Eve was forbidden to.

#TheCulturedButterfly

Silondiwe Mathebula

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time when

I was one with God in spirit

He spoke to me in celestial tongues.

We conversed in the language

Of the Angels. 

Before i went to sleep he spoke and said:

"Dear child of mine you are too perfect

And delicate to have been made from

Adam’s ribs. I assure you i made

You from the fragile, well knitted ribs

That oozed fire and life,

Ribs of one special Eve.

With one breath you lived.

Now when u wake with eyes wide open,

Go on and find this other part of you.

She is a woman; when you find her

Breath into her mouth the kiss of life,

Don’t stop and starter but explore her,

And listen. Hear the sound of her closed

eyelids as she drinks from your cup of

love so true and receive her too.

This could never be sin,

i Am God.

I am love.

Go On, find your Eve and love her poetically."

#TheCultured_Butterfly.

Silondiwe Mathebula