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Nomkhumbulwa Mar 2020
I was beginning to know who I am,
Or so I thought until now;
But now im thinking again
…..do I really know who I am?

I thought myself a good person,
Though this thought comes and goes;
But now im not so certain
Am I someone you should know?

I feel like im under performing,
Stupid, and over reacting;
As Coronavirus reached our shores
Perhaps everyone is over reacting

I look on at the rest of the world,
Most Countries affected 1st world;
For South Africa the danger is greater,
Yet others say we’re not in the world…

Do they now understand?
Or is it me being pathetic?
Im not mocking these countries
I know life must be hectic

But is it wrong to be worried?
Although our case load is small,
For with a huge *** burden
The case load surely wont stay small

Here people struggle each day,
The economy fails more and more;
Yet we need to pick up the pieces
We need to do this for all

This is not a time to be greedy,
Solidarity and compassion a must,
There wasn't any money before…..
But now finding it is a must…

Though numbers are low right now,
200 overnight to 750,
With densely populated areas of deep poverty
The spread must be contained immediately

Yes, the measures we’re taking are drastic,
But the worry and fear is real,
If this should enter our townships
Its too late…too many will fall ill

Our poor rural people are vulnerable
The mass communication campaign not accessible
What will happen to these people?
To forget about them is just cruel

I dont think its a time for mocking
Or laughing at us here in SA;
For if we don't act, the risk is far greater,
affecting millions, more than the UK

Sometimes I look forward to isolation
But not from the people here,
Rather from the ignorance online,
To help me keep things clear

No one even sees im stuck here,
Not that I wish to leave;
But just knowing people are unaware
…of the disruption here by this disease…

I have faith in the Country to act,
They have witnessed mistakes made by others,
Yet never once did we mock them
For these are people- our sisters and brothers

I care deeply for this country,
So distance myself I may;
From the cruel internet entirely,
….Thats all I have to say…

……………………..Nomkhumbulwa
Sorry....im new
There were days
Where *** was love
where human bodies use to bond like atoms
before condoms formed a fluid block like the gates to heaven.
There were days where *** came before safety
And love was in the skin
Then *** arrived.

Okay Kids...
See... there were days
Where bodies interlocked like chains
A hook so electrifying love had no boundaries.
and we use to call that 'HUGS'
There were days where
month spited glorious venom between chicks
There were days where
Hands hugged and moved, the world stood still.
With a spot light
on a Red Carpet COVID-19 arrived, blood on the floor.
I don't intend to promote unprotected *** or to disobey the regulation to prevent the spread of COVID19. I only acknowledge the lack of a beautiful and emotional human contact.
Tizzop Nov 2019
if five minutes where dem
last five minutes of my life

if i died
in five minutes
i would

kiss my kid
hold on to my wife i'd
call my mom

forever
forever
forever

i wouldn't write a bit
i wouldn't eat a bit
i'd have lots of ***** though

i'd trip
i'd get scared

who would not?

placeless
Starry Sep 2019
Try learning that
You very first love
Is druggie
And has ***
When she used to be so brilliant
And loving
And full of life
When you two had
So much in common
That is pain
Right there.
This is the poem of my first love  who is in a desperate situation
Todd Carter Jul 2019
“Maybe by a minute,
might’ve been a day.

Either way I escaped it,
was lucky either way.

Was it a random choice,
maybe geography?

Not sure why I escaped it,
why I live on to see.

The scourge that decimated,
took all that talent away.

Why did I survive it?
What am I left to say....

that has meaning or heft or gravitas for days?

Not sure what to make of it,
questions running through my mind.

I only know that I escaped it,
***+, not yet the deadly kind.

Maybe by an hour,
who am I to say?

A.I.D.S. - the affliction of a generation, will it ever go away?“
Pose FX got me feeling some kinda way:
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.
Jillian Jesser Oct 2018
I woke up to screams from a stolen razor.   
Where is it?  
It was a loud scream.          
The end comes swiftly,
anyway,
and,
if there are no razors around,
it comes even faster.                        
 
At the top of the mountain,
the anger flows to the valley,
and there is no scream.                                  
In the valley, we wait.                
There is a pull from a cigarette.                               
Small talk that is not small talk.                                        
A man wheezes   
A woman wonders where she'll go tomorrow                                          
it comes out as a laugh
                  and lightly in the background plays a song that can only be called the disease of the 80's.                                       
 
We didn't need another.                                     

But, thank you.
Shady Teddy Sep 2018
The time has come, for me to fray
the long lost fortune peace and joy
and i peep all around to see a ray
to give me hope and stop to cry
in the face of dispair, i will still try
it feels like hell and i need to fly

am about to burst and am full of thought
then if she left to me its draught
the touch of her hand and a kiss so hot
swimming basking and the fish we caught
fear and doubt with love we fought
she always escaped to what we ought

then came the insighter and he seemed brighter
taking her out and treating her better
Using a phone when i used letters
things were hard especially with a competitor
forgot me complete together with her litter
it seemed to her there was nothing sweeter

after utelizing the better of her best
he disposed her and then left
she had some pain in the chest
when she came in serch for rest
she was mine but we had to test
to avoid being hung like a nest

A drop of blood and a little buffer
recalled how our children would suffer
if through ignorance our life was vapour
my test was a line and my partners twice
why would life be so very  unfair?
her episode was so shortlived

yet she left me huge a burden
to the kids we had i was both parents
just be cause she wouldn't heed
even doctors advice on adherence
all in all i had to say goodbye
coz she was mine for the time we spent

what i am now going through
is a fruit of ignorance and disobedience
my urge my prayer,
that not one falls into the same
it's so easy to say that,
lets avoid the idea of shame
by first escaping the blame
by keeping ourselfs tame.
Static crackling ecstatically; manic pop
Transistor hissing and spitting; sideboard atop
                                      First when there’s nothing…
                                      But a slow glowing dream…

Pirouette such as whirling dervish makes
Adolescent prancer twirls; leg warmer fakes
                                      All alone I have cried…
                                      Silent tears full of pride…

Breathless incantation; future forged in dance
Performance fascination; leap upon the chance
                                      What a feeling...
                                      Bein’s believing…

Neon flashes bedeck wrists and bonce
Peers laughter flash like fire; a ponce
                                      Take your passion…
                                      And make it happen…

The music shields, deflects. Antacid; taunts abate
Rhyhmic dreamer energized; blind to all the hate
                                      Pictures come alive…
                                      You can dance right through your life…



As Bergen-Belsen ghost yet still aware
Lost dreamer segues silently on fetid air
                                       Bruised and battered, I couldn’t tell what I felt…
                                       I am unrecognizable to myself…

Shuffling as garish Geisha; white but not with paint
Breathless as fifties bombshell; heaving sick and feint
                                      At night I could hear the blood in my veins…
                                      It was black and whispering as the rain…

With steel partner; straight firm and slim of hip
Rigid in rigor’d waltz; moving labouredly with drip
                                      I walked the avenue, ‘til my legs felt like stone…
                                      I heard the voices of friends, vanished and gone…

Faithless rusting engine combusts toxic blood
Failing sack of sinew lies where dancer stood
                                      Night has fallen, I’m lyin’ awake…
                                      I can feel myself fading away…

Monotone white noise; assuring beep
Dancer dreams in endless sleep
                                     There was a time when men were kind…
                                     There was a time when love was blind…

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness – 2018 – All rights reserved)

Acknowledgements:

1. Flashdance… what a Feeling (1983 – Giorgio Moroder, Keith Forsey & Irene Cara)
2. The Streets of Philadelphia (1993 – Bruce Springsteen)
3. I Dreamed a Dream (Les Miserables – Claude Michel Schonberg, Herbert Kretzmer & Alain Boubil)
The difference 40 years can make in a gay dancers life....from dream to nightmare in the ***/AIDS crisis, inspired by the music and news of the 80's and 90's
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