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A journey from Soweto to Jozi have turned a suicide note,
Written like a poem through every inch the Shosholoza cover.

We survive anyway,
With the apartheid legacy written on our bleeding skins,
The rainbow nations I have seen are the slashes painted on my father’s skin.

Every day we survive crime, ***, cancer and the brutality of our own negative thoughts.
Every time I enter the train I see depressed souls, I see the effects of apartheid although we try so much to act like it never happened.
Shosholoza is a name of a train in South Africa that is used by mostly Black people, a third class train.
We worship the net
We understand the reason why google starts with 'go..'
We give the 'd' while praying in our inboxes,
The only place we think under, these boxes.

I was blinded by the Jozi city lights,
Chasing false fortunes,
Got lost in people's comments and complements.
Last time I closed my eyes I was somewhere in South Africa.
Today am somewhere on google map,
Planting trigo-station every time I get high.

If you find me standing before the burning bridges,
Show me a path leading to the South Africa Mandela was talking about.
Nolithando Nov 2014
Have I ever compared you to the stars?
Have I ever described your eyes in ways that resemble constellations?
Talk to me about time.
Talk to me about the universe
in all ways that'll I'll never be able to understand.
Spin me around like a clock and take me back in time
to the days when stars shined brighter than these Jozi lights.

We don't have to say a word.
Make no noise, not a peep.
Let silence fill our ears.
Let the quiet take over the earth.
Let us float in this peace,
and enjoy the time we have together.

I know that I have to leave soon
and I know that stars don't burn forever,
but lay with me here on the ground.
We'll count sheep all night until
the sun greets us in the morning letting us now
that the night is dead and gone.

It's not my fault that I fell in love with the world in you.
I see so much life and you
and I think we should stay in this position forevermore.
We will never miss another darting star,
Whirling its way passed us breaking our silence just for a second.

your eyes, made to see the depths of me.
your ears, made to hear the thoughts i keep.
your hands, made to fit my dainty mold.
your lips, made to ******* sweetened soul.

I long to be the place you can put everything they know you need to survive - every secret, solitude, nervous prayer & be certain I'll keep it
Finally finished this piece I've been writing for quite sometime for someone near & dear to me.
I hear the raindrops tumbling, in the clouds, on the breeze.
The moon's light peeks through the veiled night sky.
The first drops Kiss me so gently, but I know a storm is on her way
The crickets chirp mimic the sound of her shoes.
How it tiptoes into my space, the rustling leaves sway like a dress.
It pulls back almost as if aware of my observational gaze.
Then there's movement, the flow irresistible.
If her fringes invoke such beauty one could only imagine her eyes.

What kinda peace could a king find in the face of such unbridled grace.
Her pours allow the dark to share in the bright, bearing pits of light above most.
Her torrents clear the sediment of comfort and sweep the drought away,
Her showers clear the spirits of her subjects and boon us bounty,
Her voice crisp as lightning and clear as thunder shake the heavens when heard.

She can blitz the land or coast on the air
Raising up our tears only to let hers fall  
So I know Ororos love touches us all
Storms come and go but they are, were and will be here again.
BubbleZee  Jun 2015
I AM A FIRE
BubbleZee Jun 2015
I carry a prison in my veins that I pray would one day riot
A  fire for every experience,
And an obsession for freedom ,
That has pushed me to a nomadic point of madness
That both dazzles and dizzies me.*

-Ntokozo "Jozi" Majozi
Just another lonely bright Dazzled night in the diamond city of the land of gold.
The seasons change feels like a lamentation the autumn wind has never been so cold.

Sigh

Thought these metro lights blinding but I still see your name next to the moon in the stars.
The city's fluxed and curved silhouette,
Spectacular. happy to look, haven't seen you on these streets without occasion like a vintage car.

Sigh

I wonder, Were we moving too fast was it the pressure?
our chemistry had me at my triple point; fluid at times, solid for a minute but heated when we're livid. Aroma like therapy that's why I'm with Mary more, now that you're not near me.

Inhale

Used to be nothing but a product of jozi. a chubby hot boy plus everybody knows me. Well only my role, never my name Ilie man all ways had dat more fiha that's  what I was told. Not innocent but I have a bright soul.

Sigh

It was easier when I was apathetic, I could fake smile, greet enemies like "sho, Fede". the me of yesteryear would snark at my weakness now, but my sight has changed lately.

Inhale

Realize the higher I go the more balance I need, yes, these changes involve you but they are all on me.
A spoken word ment for a performance that never happened due to changes which is ironic. did most of it riding through Sandton . Includes a few South African/Rastafarian slang words such as
Jozi-short name for Johannesburg, South Africa
Ilie man- a man who is sacred/blessed/sanctified
Fiha- good marijuana
Sho, Fede- greetings (my)guy
Hot boy- a young illicit substances distributer

The Train of thought has a direction and many stops, when you're melancholy, but you Learn something at every stop along the line.
Each stanza has a sporadic rhyme scheme to show the sporadic nature of thought
Travis Frank Sep 2018
“Wayne’s turning 21!” we were all told with jubilation.
Three invitations flew over clear wires – not the envisaged four.
Off we went to see Johannesburg in all her splendid animation,
To see rowdy Bosmont and Hillbrow where one could easily score.

Welcome, welcome. Hug, kiss.
Decorative drinks,
Fiery foods,
Howsthingsgoingshesgoodwerewellthanksohpleasesayhellotosoa­ndso

Young couples and old lonely perverts boogied
To cheesy, overplayed Montel Jordan
As a token of celebration of the coming of age
Of a distant stranger in their shoulder-brushing midst.

Unmoved and unphased by the utterings of
Worn walls which let off more than they should,
I steeped out for air –
All too surprised what I found there.

Head patriarchs and young bucks were locked in a humming imbizo,
Ironing out the kinks and strategizing links.
Circled were the Rat, the Rock and the Rock’s Mirror:
His unknown carbon copy warranted no introduction.

Cheerio, charming castaway.
Sorry our moms couldn’t bury their green feud.
Of all the dirt and grime Jozi spreads,
The memory of our encounter is a most indelible mould.
Meet you on the flipside, lost brother.
You live your life and don’t look back – you deserve better.

— The End —