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NOLWAZI JOUBERT Jun 2015
So many of us sit, think and still
wonder,
But have we ever gave ourselves the chance to ask?
Well no!
We just rejoice and find oursleves
floating on cloud nine because
"it is just another public holiday"

So many of us have cherished this day,
as a day of drinking, parting
and being in the family way.
Which "Us" am i refering to?
Well it is the youth of South Africa,
That can only sing "Freedom is coming tomorrow" very well
without knowing the significance
of that freedom
and what it took for this freedom
to come

well let me take you back to the
hands of time.
In June 16, 1976
the mongoloid youth of South Africa
marched down the streets of Soweto for this freedom we have today.

BLOOD SHADE,
SCREAMS,
EXPLOIDING SOUNDS
and the cries of faces without races
filled the streets of Soweto.

Parents feared for the lives of their children,
but who knew that adolescents
could be so brave?

They stood together in unity,
the same unity we lack today.
Fought for what was right and that came with their African roots,
which we nolonger honour today,

they fought against the usage af
Afrikaans as the main language of communication at schools.
And look where it left us today.
We have the Right to choice
and the Freedom of association.

And not forgeting that,
they left us with the courage to say "WE ARE PROUDLY SOUTH AFRICANS"
One of my longest poems ever!
NOLWAZI JOUBERT Nov 2015
You have been cruel to your fellow race,
you smeared blood all over your land,
and here you are now,
your soils hunger and thirst for green pastures,
and there are no where to be found.

Oh poor South Africa,
could you be another Eygpt
with God's plegues reigning all over you?
You showed no harmony,
you desired no peace,
you cared less about unity,

you left your own race to die,
with those large stones,
those weapons,
the sticks and the whips.
That fire that burnt the people  alive,

their tears fell to the ground
and they have dried up your land,
it is no shortage of water that you face,
but with unquestionable daughts,
you are facing terrible draughts.

Now that your fellow citizens fight against one another,
the blood is being shed amongst themselves,
and those stones now crush their own skulls,
it is nolonger faces without races that cry,
but your own race nolonger knows how to share.

this is all because you do not have
enough water to secure them anymore.
Their needs can not be reached
not even by the noble group that monitors from their royal seats.

Oh poor South Africa cry for mecry!
For your soils are running solid,
they shall nolonger be able to bear food.

The Lord covers your land with dark clouds,
yet there is never a seed of rain that falls and touch your platue.
Oh poor South Africa cry for mercy!
for your people are dying.
And yet you sit still in silence.
The shortage of water in South Africa is nothing but a burden, a young girls has died, while trying to defend there homestead river stream.
Haylen A Wills  Aug 2016
Wildfire
Haylen A Wills Aug 2016
I gave you what you needed,
To set the sparks we breathed,
But that was never enough for you,
When it was enough for me.
We used to flame the ground,
Dirt now liked in ash,
We started the biggest wildfire,
but the flames could never last.
Yeah,we made a wildfire,smoke lit the sky,
But it all cleared up,when you left my life.
Now you're gone,the fires died down,
And im ashes in the rubble of remains.
I nolonger smell the lovely scent of the smoke you created,
Barbeque cookout in the middle of July,
Now all I smell is gasoline from your decent to flee away,
Without a goodbye or any say.
I nolonger feel the heat of your skin that'd keep me warm at night,
It's all dark and cold and scary,dont have your fire as a light.
I don't have the confidence I used to have,
you set the flame and burned it out,
Wonder if livin without cha is worth it.
My sky is clear for me while it's smoke for someone else,
?eft my prairie of daises and roses for a forest of trees and elk.
I have no more flames with me,theyre for another land,
But I wish you could disclaim it,come back,
Give me a chance.
Yeah,we used to make wildfires,
And smoke would light the sky,
And even though the fires gone,m
My love for you still burns on,
And my sparks seen by every eye.
Sayer May 2013
there was a simile and a metaphor wrapped inside the finest golden linen inside a box and in the box was a dream and in that dream was a choice and in that choice was a life and in the seconds of bright light a time no one can possibly remember i was chosen i was born as i flew out somehow through the tides of the ocean and the rippling waters in a pond in the backyard was my hope and my peace and my gift wrapped inside wrapped around a little finger
                     and to cut the womb and let it flow out what is this why and how and nolonger must i suffer every single word of gratitude and fulfillment feels like a knife stuck in ice and now in my heart as a rainbow emerges from the rain an i bet you were happy i knew you were happy
                  thanks for sharing your great time while i sat and drowned in my own tears and my own sweat thanks for telling me what now was i am i just tell him because every breakdown every moment has led up to this to this and i wish to God i was older to get away from this to cut the womb the be reborn to cut the womb to cut the womb to cut the womb upside down down upside right left
to the circle to the circle never ending is what they said
thanks
for
telling me
about
your gr
eat
time
makes me
feel a whole lot better
easy to feel passed over in a time likethis
and you help i know you just want to help but this is getting so
getting so perfectly annihilating so perfectly exhausting so perfectly pure so perfectly wrapped like the bow ties of the gentleman around and i know i'm not that I know it and i cry myself to sleep and drown in my tears and my years i can't help but think that without you by my side all the time i'm

downwardspiraling towards a perfect circle in sync i can no longer wait and be the most patient man in the universe four long years can not turn to five and if so i selfdestruct i will nolonger yes no
Forever and always
Jo Schmo  Jun 2015
Vulture
Jo Schmo Jun 2015
She feeds off my dedication
and
Lives off my Love.
Don't dare tell her how I feel
because that becomes a Power.
It is nolonger my choice to her.
She grabs ahold and hikes it above her head-
Taunting me;
Teasing me;
Daring me.
I reach for it-
Yelling;
Screaming;
Threatening.
Maddened with the authority I gave her.
Strickened with the will to ignore
but
Unable to adhere.

Sooo...
My eyes water
and
My tongue swells.
My mind dictates
but
My body lays ignorant to its wisdoms.
I know what I can do.
I know what I should do.
I know what I would do-
If only I didn't ...
Love her.

"You ain't goin nowhere," she says.

I want to scream, "Oooh yes the **** I am!"
But
My head just dips in that "youre so right" kind of way
and
The Vulture struts away- Proud.
Kendal Anne Aug 2013
"My  dahling," ...
That is how she always will begin, with a lilt to her speach
Her words slurring together as if she's been ******* on the bourbon from your private store
For every minute and every second of the three hours that she had been gone away
Doing whatever it is that young damsels, who do whatever they please shall do
Then she will wrap her cold arms around you, reminding you of the wintery landscape outside
Putting her lips close to your ears, she will whisper and she will try to tell you again;
"My  dahhling, my  dearest, dearest  friend,"
She pauses, hesitating a little too much for you to know that it is not something good.
But since when have the two of you been friends?
She was just a women, and you were just a lonely old man who needed someone
To take care of your very sore and achy feet from the arthritis that had evolved over the many decades of your life
So why the hell would she call you her dearest friend? When the hell did this happen?
What did she want from you? More? You had given her everything her little heart could ever desire;
The fur coats, the crystal jewels, even that 1997 baby blue convertable with the velvet seats
That you had proffesonally done, not too mention that as well
****, women always want more. More, more, more. Can never get enough can they?
They whine, they snivel, they grovel, and they chirp like little birds when they recieve what they want
But she, Little Miss Want It All, still seems to be left, and always wanting more.
Turning you face her, you notice the little things that you have never seen before
The way her nose is slightly off center, or that her eyes are an eerie blue tang color
The way her breath feels against your old wrinkly skin when she speaks to you softly
"My  dahling, I  need  to  tell  you  something."
She whispers this as she curls her hair around her fingers from where she is standing
Which is behind your real, and expensive leather couch that she had you get imported from Russia
You roll your eyes, thinking you know what the little **** will say;
That she lost the diamond earings you got her, or she got a scratch on the car you bought
And she wants a replacement. *******. Always. This always happened, practically once a month
Money, **** that women to hell! She seemed to just throw it out the window and forget that she had it
Well enough was enough, you could nolonger take this part of her.
No matter how long her legs were in five inch heels, or how beautiful she looked
She seemed to spend every penny that you had ever earned without noticing
Leaning towards you her hair tickles against your face, the smell of cherries floating out
That was the one good thing about her, she always kept herself in tip top shape
But now as she leans over you, her lips inches away from yours;
This is how she will end, her voice reeking of yes, the bourbon from your private store
"My  dahling, it seems  that  I  have  pawned  off  your­  house.  And  everything  else  you  own­."


Well  ****.
Sometimes I see many a spiteful man in his lifetime, who is a bit two face with his woman. He gives her everything she wants, but just despises her for it. This is my way of telling a story of the smartest woman alive. Payback is a *****.
Deul Feb 2019
I couldn't stop wondering if the eyes I saw before
We're now shining as if they're sincerely happy, Amore
andrew juma Dec 2015
Me: What can
what can i do
Too many people wishing you were dead,
(Do all that you can when you can do)
What can i do now
I hit rock bottom from the sky,
Cuz they go all crazy when i shine
Am so lucky that i didnt break my head
Am strong enough for the life ahead,
Never want them back
They stabb yah back,
Backbite yah back, orchestrate ya sorrows
Today and tommorrow
Like it alot when you go wrong
But we been friends for so **** long
My failure is the source of there laughter
But when together they be acting luster
Guess now ill run even faster,
Run even Faster pray even harder
*******
Tryn harder to hurt me further, like my deadbeat father,
Nolonger givn a **** bout what i feel
But still im stronger like steel,
See i  aint even wrong them,
I wonder why they do what they do

What can
what can i do
Too many people wishing you were dead,
(Do all that you can when you can do)
What can i do now
Turn my other cheek no
I rise above them all now
(Do all that you can when you can do)
Remember them days back when i didnt mind my back,
My backpack full o packed coke we be runnin them blocks cuz we blacks never relaying on luck  i pick mosta them and the likes cut them some slack in my shack cuz they lackd,
We made a whole new home
They swore to never place greed before a ******, reciding them creeds like eminem,
before what we did in em streets to pull through,
my crew my life we cruise
We win we lose we floz
We never ceased to love
Is it too late...but it dawned on me it wasnt real
What can
what can i do
Too many people wishing you were dead,
(Do all that you can when you can do)
What can i do now
Turn my other cheek no
I rise above them all now
(Do all that you can when you can do)
We split tha ways cuz i wanted legit,  no more fakin it ,a  **** with a conscience look for a license protect the streets i raided cuz they raised me
Never place greed before a ****** is the creed we wrote you broke no longer broke you rich now but still robe the streets the many throats you slit for cults it occurred i hadto leave
I did the time for yall as you balled cuz i loved you all and you know how i loved Ael as her head you popped with them bullets
The same bullets i taught you to shoot
Give you the other cheek you sick,you know,
i had no other chic but Ael you weak freaks
Stick to them halls cuz im comin fo yer,
ill break my vows for her


Sending…
Greed creed blacks blocks street trust luck
NOLWAZI JOUBERT Apr 2015
little children are abondoned by thier parents,                                                  left to raise each other on their own,  learn to survive in the streets,            forced to live under the influence of drugs and earn a living from mugging.                                                         ­                                                    Mothers forced to labour with children on thier backs,                         they rather sleep with empty stomachs sacrifising only for their children.                                                        ­                                                    Man begging for food,they nolonger know how to give.                          They wear shreaded clothes and survive from the tiny bread crumps thrown into trash cans.                They sleep under the fierce weathers, the wind cutting through thier skin and all that keep them warm is plastic bags.                                                            ­                                 What ever happened to my country is surely brutal South Africa can never be the same again unless we change it.
every street coner of my country either has a man, woman or child begging and a lot of crime takes place everyday.
Atrisia Jun 2014
Some things, you know in your heart and not your head
Because in a world run on reason, peoples soulfelt dreams don't come true.
And being still is losing the lead in love's race
And who you are is really a question of what you have to offer, where everything, is not enough... but if they control you, then maybe, you are worth their while. for its their own solus they sold so flesh and bones is not a goldmine.. its your pounding hearts and hopeful souls they long after.
Maybe tonight i will craft one more dream.. and keep it safe behind the bars my ribs create.. i'll let it brew.. manifest in my dreams.. till like a bad habit i'm exposed and it becomes who i am.. a colourful butterfly whose cacooned past nolonger matters.
feeling caged. when i ask myself what else i have to offer. sometimes it feels like life on earth is demanding my soul.. not to keep it safe but to suffocate my concious and have me dance to it tune.. a tune my soul will see me dance and be lost to me for good this time

— The End —