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Jun 5 · 442
Greed, Transformed
Mamolefe Jun 5
I carry Love.

I carry Love.

I carry, a love that resuscitates my ancestors while I breath in laughter.

Where the ball inside my throat hurls fire - makes love to the sun
scares shadows
intimidates death and
offends darkworkers.

A love where God’s water breastfeeds me at the bottom of the ocean - baptising my blood and transforming my saliva into gold.

It knows me, wants me, and always,
finds me.

I carry Love.
Nov 2022 · 394
Mystic Power
Mamolefe Nov 2022
Sometimes I feel like the human race is a reflection of the night sky.

Our street lights acting as constellations to consciousness
connecting the dots between our worlds,
colours making love at midnight.

Stream lights mimicking the rays of the sun.

Our screams personifying the echoes of meteors
and our whispers as faint as shooting stars.
Nov 2022 · 98
lower case
Mamolefe Nov 2022
some days, i feel like my words are too small.
that they lack exclamation marks and coloured pens.

like my pencil is too blunt or my ink too dry.
it’s as if I do not have enough secrets to tell.

i hide behind spaces. sleep inside an ellipsis. i coil like a question mark and sometimes forget to dot my i’s.

will you hear these words that whisper like thoughts?
will you feel them like braille?
can you spot them like capitals?
It’s important to hide in our shadows. It gives us time familiarise and then defy our demons.
Oct 2022 · 1.2k
Mamolefe Oct 2022
I often find myself chasing gold these days.

Whether it is burning my fingers raw as I dig under sand
or by starring zealously at the sun.

Yellow and Orange have turned into my favourite colours of joy and pain. It’s tones hiding secrets I wish to understand behind my own skin.

They are forcing me to fast through bananas and naartjies; discipline myself with lemons and butternut.
Apr 2022 · 2.4k
Mamolefe Apr 2022
I was first born a solar system.

Living in a realm where I wheezed stars and suns. My eyes, black holes to a new universe.
It was a time where planets burst from my belly and latched onto my ******* - no longer hiding in my vortex of a womb.

The world swung around my neck heavily. Steadily, I adorned my fate gracefully...

...because I was born second a mountain.
My hips creating hills and heaps while my tears birthed oceans. I carried the crescent moon in my left eye - Venus in my right.

And often times, I’d shape shift and kneel to the ground, grabbing the soil of the earth.
Its mud, dancing under my nails and knuckles. Its dust, smouldering the creases between my palms.
Sand, caressing and matching the tones of my skin. Accenting hues from the palette of eternal life.

My mouth, birthing spirits and spells. Souls - mining from my ribs.
My womb, carrying ancestors and avatars - Coloured girls glowing in browns, blacks, purples and blues.
Their nebula personifying secrets from Zion as they break through the realm between my legs.

As I continue to carry my message in the wind; breathing life into lifelessness;
narrating stories of hope in times of hopelessness; morphing my magic across the abyss.

I was born third a Nubian.
A Maasai, I am the one they call MAKEBA.

Walking these townships streets as though diamonds lay at my feet.
Gliding on gravel from the ghetto to Greece. Leaving behind a fragrance so sweet.

Blessing the unblessed even when left distressed. Honoring the feminine power that flows within me. The roaring lioness! Smell the audacity of my celestial essence. I am the first to bleed, but last to fall – the S forever embroidered on my breast.

For I am you and you are her and we are She! MAKEBA!

Inkosazana. The melanated fruit that you seek. You stare in disbelief at these words that I conceive.


Ke mang a tshwara thipa ka bogaleng? Ke mang afang botho mo batho ba hlokang motho? Ngubani le mbogodo elingabambeki?


My eyes, carrying alchemy.
My smile, a treasury. My skin, reflecting the origin of humanity.

A piece by Mamolefe Molefe & Reaorata Mashaba.
“Ma” meaning Mother and “Keba” meaning fortune, health and spirituality - which is of Tanzanian heritage.

In this collective project, we bring to life the artistry and alchemy of the Black Woman.

The Mothers of the Universe. The originators of man. The true, living form of God.
Apr 2022 · 205
Greed, Repurposed
Mamolefe Apr 2022
I want my love back.

I want my ghosts to possess my lungs - resuscitate my ancestors while I breath in laughter.

For the ball inside my throat to hurl fire - to make love to the sun
scare shadows
intimidate death and
offend darkworkers.

A love where God’s water breastfeeds me at the bottom of the ocean - baptising my blood and transforming my saliva into gold.

Love me. Want me. Find me.

Give, it, back.
Feb 2021 · 204
Mamolefe Feb 2021
I want my love back

A love where God’s water breastfeeds me at the bottom of the ocean - baptising my blood.

Transforming my saliva into gold.
Revisit your power.
Feb 2021 · 114
Autumn Skin
Mamolefe Feb 2021
A chaos has been birthed inside of me.

It’s Ghosts, playing hopscotch.
My Heart, fighting against lung.
The Blood, making out with startdust.

A destiny wishing to reform itself
trying to recognise its name
smile at its reflection.
A natural disaster beginning its annual cycle inside of me.

Inside of you.

Like how Summer recognises Autumn’s leaves,
it’s twiggy branches letting go of its maroon mascara.
Stripping itself bare of past fantasies and love.

An internal hazard that dances for the Gods inside of you.
The ones yet to be discovered.
The ones yet to be explored.

So, retract
unclip your wings and reopen your cave of comforting darkness so as to rediscover the light again.

It’s soon...
You’re soon.

Soon, my love.
#transition #change #reflection #lost
Jan 2020 · 99
Mamolefe Jan 2020
Your shadows clock in for their shift at 12 o’clock... at night

Hanging it’s cloak on your happiness and lying luxuriously on your chest. Their hours stealing your dreams and numbing them into painful memories.

We become a bath of obsession and depression
Our tears spelling out the words that our throats cannot read
We are an ocean of misled, overthought fantasies
A nation of unspoken miseries .

Our bones, rubbing against each other

Getting lost in the darkness of our humane cast
Trying to find themselves.
Trying, to, rediscover the stories that make you one
Trying to align your purpose
The shadows have won.

So you create a new self. A version that breathes in the heavy smoke that is your emotions.
A hemisphere where your shadows are your friends.
Buddies that allow for the dark half of your minds to dance in the abyss
Play in the dark
And whimper about the stories folded in your heart.

Sleep, my child.
Rest, my love.
Crumble, darling.
Be reborn, sweetheart.
Nov 2019 · 129
Secret Shudders
Mamolefe Nov 2019
I will whisper stories into your ear so potent with love, that you can taste them.

The same way you taste the colours that dance in the sky.

The same way you taste your dreams during your high.

The same way you ******* lips.
The lips that whisper stories in your ear...
Aug 2019 · 223
Mamolefe Aug 2019
I lay my scalp to rest.
The cushions below it comforting my thoughts and caressing my dreams.
The mattress allowing my guardians and demons to sweep away the dust between my ribs
the webs under my skin.

Home, is where my spirit sleeps.

Where my thoughts become a whimsical fantasy
Where my reality is engulfed within the galaxies

Home, is a place that I cannot see.

A foreign land that feels like my great grandmother's hugs and my mother's cries.
The sphere where my screams match the symphonies that echo through the thick breath of the unknown.
A place where my tears match the rumbles of Kwamata's abode.

A realm where I touch God,
where he kisses my cheeks and reorganises my destiny
through every snooze
every snore.

Home, is where I humbly die and rise.
Home, is where my colourful insides fly.
Home, is the sanctuary between my eyes.
Aug 2019 · 240
Mamolefe Aug 2019
We planted seeds today
Pulps filled with different ridges dusted with the earth's breath,
were planted.

Each earthy fetus protected by the palms of their alpha tripped off their fingertips and glided their way into the dimension that lies under our feet.
A dimension where our ancestors whisper in sacred tongues and where the other half of our trees play in the mud.

This, is where our spirits are born.
This, is where your training begins
little one
earthy one
mystic one
This, is where you begin.

Where the trees' veins inquisitively tap on your shell
poke at your lifeless liveliness
Where the ancestors rattle your cage with their hums
Guiding you to taste your own rhythm

This, is where your spirit buds.
We planted seeds today.

The pulps resting in the dimension below your skin,
below your heart.
A dimension where your thoughts gossip and where your ancestors sleep.

This, is where IT begins
This, is where it breathes
where it sees
gracious one
fleshy one
cosmic one
This, is where we bleed.


We planted seeds today.
We, planted OUR seeds today
OUR seeds were planted today
WE, were planted...
Nov 2018 · 4.2k
Green Tea.
Mamolefe Nov 2018
I sip on my green tea
wishing for it to cleanse me.
Wishing for it, to cleanse out the oils and the misery I consume.
Wishing for it to break down my toxins.
Wishing for it ... to cleanse the sections of myself that even I cannot reach.

Green Tea

A substance that supposedly detoxes the belly, but not strong enough to detox the soul

Not strong enough to take away my shadows, my doubt, my ego or my woes.
A drink, not strong enough to hug my spirit at its loneliest hours.
Yet, I sip
.. praying the wet herbs that tickle my tongue shall unlock the gateway, or the path, or the door... to my soul.

So I sip...
And sip...
And sip...

Swallowing it’s brew...and my tears.
Oct 2018 · 380
Mamolefe Oct 2018
My heart is a dormant volcano
locking its luscious lava under hills and droplets of rock.

My heart is a dormant volcano

Wishing to cry out its passion down its temples
Unleash its fiery tone
Ooze out its love, wonder and adventure.

My heart...
A potion made with stardust, honey, magic and lilies
Creating a Utopia so sacred.. that it remains sealed until the right
fire, bubbles my molten caves to an unknown ecstasy.

My heart ... is a dormant volcano
Burying its crystals in a core SO deep, that the energy they possess makes people’s skin creep.
The anger in my veins, compressing my elements into jewels.
and Lilies too.

My heart is a dormant volcano
Chanting a call for my lost loves to find the fire ...
To bubble my concoction
And let me drip --
Pour, my love into your battlefield and protect your scars.

My heart is a dormant volcano.
Wishing to find its...

Never poke at your wholeness for someone's emptiness.

— The End —