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!