Have I been told... girrrllll hide ur man!?
Have I been told ... girllll..!umunti uthathwa Komunye....
Have I been told... not too late... not to soon...
Have I been told, how and not to love,?!...
I’ve been told , everything, to do, and not do..
I’ve been told, how to keep my heart chained...
I’ve been told, how to love and not to love...
I’ve even been told the ideals of love...
I’vd been told, the perspective of another human being...
I listened,experienced and followed...
Got hurt and learnt...
Till the day, my heart met you...
No one told me how to love you...
Effortlessly it became...
Two hearts mieant to be together...
many nirrated what love is...
But all I know...
I HAD NOT LOVED... UNTIL YOU!
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms
It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces
of your heart
that you don't yet understand
It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave
It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
Created by the hands of God,
Imperfectly perfect.
Molded by alls life circumstances and rough around the edges because of cuts she endured
She can never be fully defined, for she's forever unfolding.
Tough, hard , difficult and misunderstood by many.
Tired , fed up and yet still with a lot of fight In her.
Her heart cocooned and protected,
Having been hurt, full of scares and cracked it is.
Forever challenged , from Childhood till adulthood. So the outside is hard as rock.
She...
A daughter , sister, and mother.
Strong for the sake of many.
Harden by a cruel world, difficult it is to unwrap the true nature of her heart.
As I stood back and analyzed.
Heart so pure , it's fragile.
Broken , but yet continues to love.
She cries when one ones looking,
Gives love which it taken for granted.
Has tried to turn cold, but it's not her in nature,
The warmth in her heart, rooted to the soul
She, who has a heart of gold, full of love and strong enough to endure and let go when its had enough.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:31 PM UTC
I hate that I miss you
Why my heart did I have to give?
How I miss my beautiful care free days
Heart un affected by your stupidness.
Sick of every thing u say to me
Your sweet nothings, like a scratched CD.
Feeling angry and frustrated, cause I chose to love.
Thinking that I love you, is a bitter taste to my mouth and a lump in my throat.
Silently asking my self, what the **** did I just get into.
Loving you is hard, for its taking my everything to not walk away.
For the heart is fooled and letting go, it doesn't want to do.
I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU. Cause that's why I'm missing you.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Fight for the hard times.
Believe, and live to conquer.
Take that deep breath.
Know you can do best.
Grasp it all, with hands full of hope.
Dream... Desire to be better.
As I grow, and ****** myself from drowning.
As I live, just to be hopeful.
As I wish, becouse dreams do come true.
As I hope, for a better life,
With a compelling conviction in my heart,
Of only fighters get it all.
So, fight for the hard times.
Believe and live to conquer.
Dream, desire to be better.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
For in this world, my heart has bleed.
Full of scares and still healing.
Questioning my insanity,
Choosing to live and still love.
Love, even when it hurts me most.
For its that hurt, that awakens me.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC
So here we go again...
Worrier I am, fighter and a believer
Sucker for all things sweet, forever a believer.
Here we go again, where love is found and lost.
Here we go again, to giving my heart, only to end up broken.
Here we go again, to a heart so naive and hopeful,
Love it seeks , love it thinks it has found.
Here we go again to wondering how long will it take before I look back and ask myself, was my head right?
With the heart still clouded , a vicious cycle it is.
Here we go again, to wishing its forever, knowing very well it could end any time.
Here we go again to me wishing this time it will be different... here we go, as I set myself up.
Here we go again and again, for it will never end, because that's what makes life what it is today.
Here we go again, as I fall and stumble and come out with a lesson learnt and stronger.
Here we go again, allowing myself to love again regardless. I won't stop!
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
I broke up with God
at our favorite eatery
in our favorite booth.
We settled into familiar creases
and asked for the usual.
My eyes lazily staring at fingers
stirring the straw around the ice cubes,
God cautiously spoke up:
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothing.” (Thinking about the dormant phone
concealing behind the lock screen
the open Facebook tab
lingering over the relationship status section.)
They silently mused over the laconic reply,
til the waitress showed up with the food.
“Thank you!” God blurted with agonizing alacrity.
I received the sustenance lifelessly
and aimlessly poked at the burgers and fries.
The waitress eyed me with vague inquisition,
popping a bubble in the gum between
big teeth, refilled my water
and pirouetted hastily.
We ate in ostensible harmony,
the silence gripping like a chokehold,
the visible anxiety and subdued resolve
settling like a stifling blanket
over the child waking
from a nightmare—
Til we couldn’t breathe,
and I ripped back the covers
and looked into the eyes
of my tormentor.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
God, taken aback by the curt statement,
dropped their burger with shaking hands,
silently begging with wetting eyes
a greater explanation.
So I elaborated:
“It’s not you, it’s me.
For your immaculate conception
was created by human hands,
your adages rendered obsolete
by human words,
your purpose and plan for us
distorted by human nature—
I cannot hate myself any longer.
I cannot pretend to know you at all.
Who my mother and father say you are
is not who my friends think you are,
nor my teachers, my pastor,
the president, Stephen Hawking,
Muhammed, the KKK, Buddha,
the Westboro Baptist Church,
Walt Whitman, Derek Zanetti,
******
and Billy Graham.
I am told you care who I bring into bed (and when),
and what movies I watch,
and what music I listen to—
I have not heard what you say about
child soldiers, the use of mosquitos,
or the increased destruction of the earth
which you proudly proclaimed your creation,
or the poverty and disease and famine
which has ridden so many of your children—”
God interjected,
“But you’re chosen!”
I snorted,
“You say I’m chosen
to spend eternity with you—
why me?
Why’d you pick me among
thousands, millions, billions?
I’ve been told I’m ‘chosen’
since birth
by others like me—
those with fair complexion,
blue eyes,
blonde hair,
a firm overt ****** attraction towards women,
and a great big house
with immaculate white fences
delineating their Jericho.
I’ve already fabricated eternity
here among the other ‘chosen’
and there is a world of suffering
right outside the fence
and I see them
through the window of my bedroom
every day.
Am I chosen,
if I don’t vote Republican
Am I chosen
if I am Pro-Choice
Am I chosen
if I cohabitate with my girlfriend
Am I chosen
if I never have kids
Am I chosen
if I say ‘Happy Holidays’
Am I chosen
if I don’t want public prayer in schools
Am I chosen
if I don’t want a Christian nation
Am I chosen
if I don’t repost you on my wall
or retweet your adages?
I’m tired
being the ubermensch,
for it has not brought me
happiness
and I blame you.
I will not ignore
the cries of the suffering
believing it is I
who is destined to live
in bliss.
I will not buy
Joel Osteen’s autobiography(ies).
I will not tithe
you my money
for a megachurch
when another homeless shelter
closes down.
I will not tell a woman
what to do with her body,
or a man
that he is a man
if they say they are not.
I am neither Jew nor Gentile,
and I will stand with
my brothers and sisters
of Faith and Faithlessness,
Gay and Straight,
Black and White,
and apart from these extremes
free from absolutes
the ambiguous, amorphous
nature of Humankind
which I praise.
There is much pain and suffering
in this world,
potentially preventable,
but hardly can I believe
it’s part of your plan
to save
me.
I will not be saved
if we are not
all saved—
not one will burn
for my divinity.
The gates will be open to all—
and perhaps you believe that too,
but I’ve gotten you all wrong
and that cannot change,
as long as there is
mortality, and
corruption, and
power, and
lust, and
greed.”
God whined, growing bellicose,
“It is through me that you will find eternity,
I am the one true god!
I am the God of your fallen ancestors,
it is because you have fallen short
that you need me!”
I replied, growing in confidence,
“We have all fallen short,
yes,
but we are also magnificent.
We have evolved,
we have created,
we have adapted,
we have survived.
We have built empires,
and we have destroyed them.
We have cured diseases,
and we have created them.
We have done much in your name.
We’ve done good,
and we’ve done evil—
And unfortunately it’s all about
who you ask.
Your name is a burden on the oppressed
and a weapon of the oppressor.
You are abusive, God.
You tell me you are jealous.
You tell me apart from you I will suffer for an eternity.
I’m scared to die, yet want to die,
because of you.
You have made life a waiting room
that is now my purgatory. It is
Hell On Earth.
So you see,
it’s not you,
it’s me—
a mere mortal
who has tried to put a face
to eternity
and it has left me
empty.
And also,
it’s me,
for I have learned to love me,
as I have expelled your self-loathing imbibition,
and the deleterious zeal
I have proclaimed
through ceaseless
trepidation
and self-flagellation—
I have learned to love me
by realizing I am not inherently evil,
that my body is not evil,
that my mind is not evil,
and, ultimately, that
there is no good
and there is no evil.
My body is beautiful,
my mind is beautiful,
this world is beautiful,
and we are destroying it
waiting for you to claim
us.
I leave you
in hopes to see you
again one day,
and perhaps you will look
different than I have
perceived or imagined,
and in fact
I certainly hope so.”
Just then the waitress strolled back up
with a servile smile:
“Dessert?”
“No, thank you,”
I smiled politely.
And with that,
I paid the check,
and took a to-go box—
walked out into the evening rain
to my car,
put on a secular song
that meant something real to me
and drove off
into the night—
feeling for the first time
free
and alive.
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
World how dare you persecute me.
World how dare you judge me.
World how dare you trumpet me.
How dare you push me to the ground;
Having me fall so hard, I dare to doubt I'd ever stand.
How dare you fill my head with your lies,
Lies of corruption, hate and uncleanliness.
For have you not been told? I am;
Gods untouchable.
For it is my God who makes all the injustice not last long.
For it is my God who cures, cleans and constructs.
Persueing, protecting and perplexly loving me.
World , the hold you have will never last.
For my God is a God of everything, anything , entirely out of love for his children.
So world, don't you dare ever think you have an upper hand.
For I do believe in a God that lives
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
In my own skin, Black and beautiful
For an African child I am, proud of my roots.
My skin, burnt and scorched,
Scares visible, for untold stories they represent.
Living In a society where girls fail to embrace who they are, because of the color of there skin.
Chocolate dark brown, black women I proudly am,
A warrior , queen and healer...
How different would the world be if black women knew there strength.
If I where reborn, I'd desire to be black.
Indoni ya'Manzi... Proudly Black and Beautiful.
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 3:52 PM UTC