I keep hearing the echoes of piano keys and guitar strings. I’m intrigued by the joy Luyanda brings every time she sings. It’s amazing how every single note becomes an unforgettable poem. Sometimes silence echoes through the urban streets of ghettos. The world’s love and light tries to illuminate in all our broken halos. My creativity was trapped in broken dreams until I heard her sing. People give her their absolute attention as she strokes each string. The sun came out just to impersonate the warmth of her aura. Even if things don’t always go our way, I know that we will all be okay. I hear echoes of a million heartbeats between abandoned buildings and crowded streets. A million heartbeats keep echoing between Hammanskraal and Atteridgeville. I hear millions of echoes within the silence of busy ghetto and urban streets. I hear echoes of piano keys and guitar strings every time Luyanda speaks.
flashfloods clinging to ***** mascara where starstruck children run in mud call me the eve of original sin for the things I have seen and the places I've been
for ridges of ink etched in landscapes of skin for heartbeats in hoodies saying lest we forget
in the valley of the shadow of death they rest with hands crossed over their chests
Each year we lose One heart beat; That's less blood To our heads and feet. This means my breath Is fading too; But I'll keep beating, And I'll keep breathing, Yes, I'll keep living Just to bury you.
