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4.2k · Sep 2018
What about Burundi?
Nomkhumbulwa Sep 2018
Why is this still happening?
So silently, yet still reported;
At great lengths they will go
- to make sure its reported.

Although the Government are in denial,
We are grateful for those who report
The ongoing slaughter of innocent people
Men, women, and children are caught.

Journalists themselves are risking their lives
To tell the world whats happening;
There can be no more dangerous a place
From which to report the sickening.

So where is the world?
The situation is dire -
And unless action is taken
...its going to catch fire.

People are still leaving,
For Tanzania,
A country now turning them back
Back home to face their fears.

But where are the World?
What is holding you back?
How can you just sit there
And ignore these attacks?

For I for one cannot,
And I have no power to act,
All I can do, is spread the word
And hope someone...will act.

Yes there was a time,
When a hundred thousand were killed each day,
That is hard to comprehend,
Not just for me - but for locals who got away.

It may not be happening quite on that scale,
But the fact that it is still happening,
Surely is warning enough.....
And the Government is in denial...

I am worried for Burundi,
But why is no one else?
How can you just sit there
- are you leaving it for someone else?

The attacks are still happening,
Day after day after day,
Bodies are still being found....
Before being rushed into the ground.

Such brutality is hard to stomach,
And I have the stomach for much,
But when I encountered the plight of Burundi,
That was just too much.

I dont know if I will finish this poem,
Because the images I now have are horrific,
So what must it be like....
For those having to live there with it?

Imagine the fear,
The total despair,
And the feeling of more
- that the world doesnt care.

It can be no wonder
That this little country
Is the unhappiest on Earth,
It is so clear to see.

Or for those who choose maybe
To see what others refuse,
Or ignore, or belittle,
Cover up- whatever word you use.

Each day there are reports,
Women and children found dead,
Their throats have been cut,
Bodies lay with no heads

They are *****, they are tortured,
For hours, days, or months,
There are forced disappearances,
- those run into the hundreds.

A machete is no longer an agricultural tool,
It has become a symbol of terror,
It is used to slice, tear, stab, torture;
It is a symbol of ******.

What must go through these peoples minds,
When they see someone with a machete,
What was once a necessary tool,
Now been used to butcher so many.

The genocide may be over,
And few even know it took in Burundi,
But the torture, the butchering continues
It continues horrifically.

I am a strong person,
I have read about, seen, and stomached a lot,
But there is nothing that even comes close
To how this puts my stomach in a knot.

The info is there if you seek it,
And please do - its risky to report;
I wonder how much more blood must be spilt
Until someone decides those responsible must be caught

The images they are many many,
The videos they are there too:
But why is it just me seeing this?
Where are the rest of you?

The day I saw the video,
I will never forget,
After what I had suffered myself,
Again I will never forget.

I do not regret what I saw,
For I believe it to be necessary,
Necessary for people to see,
But - those in Government - not me.

Now I have to be careful,
Because of what I saw,
That video put me in hospital -
It triggered something in my core.

It is spread through desperation,
To get a message to the world,
But I was one of only 3 to have seen that,
Maybe rightly so, but also absurd.

Pictures are horrific enough,
Sometimes missing parts are "shaded",
But then comes along another
The shadings not there, its a person beheaded.

But it it not the effect on myself,
Which pains me so much,
It is the fact that this is still happening,
And the world is so out of touch.

I now have to be careful,
But I will not stop,
I wont stop spreading the word,
Until this killing in Burundi stops.

The graphics are hard to put to words,
The testimonies harder still,
But I have tried to help you see,
Without making myself more ill.

The Imbonerakure,
The youth wing of the CNFDD,
Even seeing that word now..
Makes the panic rise within me

For they and the security are responsible,
For the majority of the brutal killings,
The ****, the torture, the unthinkable,
People are not even safe when leaving.

They come out at night,
The raid peoples homes,
**** entire families,
While others watch on.

They harass in the streets,
The harass at the borders,
They are everywhere,
Butchering as they are given orders.

The President thinks he was put there by God,
This is nothing shocking I know,
For for Burundi it means a lot,
It means he may stay for ever, death will be all they know.

There are memorials built,
To the many genocides to take place,
Each containing thousands of skulls,
Cracked where the machete went through the face.

Thousands and thousand of skulls lined up,
Of course there are no bodies -
From "Ear to Ear" was how the saying went,
As each head was cut from its body.

It has become so common to find someones head,
Something that for us here would cause fear in itself,
That now in Burundi there are proverbs and sayings,
School children quote wise words from these heads themselves.

Headless bodies float along the river,
Headless bodies dumped in bags with the *******,
A machete taken to the throat and then to the torso,
Ripping flesh, drawing blood, organs pulled out of the body for show.

For this is a living nightmare,
Blood flowing down roads and rivers,
Finding a hand, a head, a liver...
Would make many strong people shiver.

People are literally hacked to death,
Occasionally they are shot,
If I ever found myself in that position
I would outright beg to be shot.

The person I saw die in the video,
Took way more than 10 minutes for sure,
As hit throat was cut, he was stabbed, his skin ripped,
His blood spurted violently across the floor

I refuse to go into more detail than that,
For thats the one that triggered me,
I will never watch it again,
But I do want those in power to see.

Will someone please help Burundi?
I feel I have not done it justice with this poem,
The machete, the blood, the horror...
Please help... we all know who is to blame.

We all know....
Sorry for the graphic nature.  I rarely write poetry not driven by my own situation, but this is one I also cannot ignore :( And its not a very good poem, so apologies.  Hard to express it actually.
3.6k · Mar 2022
While I wait.......
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 2022
I wrote this while waiting my turn at Baragwanath Hospital...it suddenly came to me, that I had been speaking to these wonderful ladies at **** Crisis Scotland nearly every day before I came here and started to heal.  Im forever, and ever...grateful ***

"While I wait…"

Today I was thinking,
I had so much time,
Waiting for hours and hours,
Patiently in line

Apprehensive, nervous,
Yet somewhat assured,
I let my mind wander,
Back and back it was lured

Im out of my body,
Now an empty shell,
Going back to the past,
Going back to …hell

It feels dangerous,
Thinking back,
I feel so vulnerable,
It hurts to look back

But here I am,
Waiting in line,
A different person,
To look back, it is time

But who was I?
What was going on?
The fear, the shame,
I had almost no one

Its darkness and pain,
Unbearable pain,
Not trusting anyone,
Even myself, never again

I was something else,
Torture, torture, torture,
Hating myself,
Was I a murderer?

The panic, the fear,
Not knowing myself,
Not knowing inside,
Wanting to **** myself

All of this now
Seems so much worse,
As im getting better,
Im learning to trust

The pain in my stomach,
Thinking back to that time,
Stuck in my house,
Completely out of my mind

Time had stopped,
But I still had to live,
Existing was painful,
It was a nightmare to live

I don’t recognise myself,
Don't know who I was,
But the feelings are still with me,
More traumatic than all else

My blades were my friends,
Taking the pain each day,
Numbing my mind,
Allowing it to “go away”

Cut cut cut,
Every day,
I look at my scars now,
I’ve had to explain

Back there I was me,
But I was totally lost,
Like living a virtual reality,
So totally totally lost

An empty shell,
Yet shaky and trembling,
Wanting to die,
For being a burden

Suddenly
Im lost for words,
Just feeling feelings,
Its too much for words

There was nothing left of me,
Now that I know,
And knowing causes me pain,
How could I have got so low?

I can’t stop the tears,
The confusion, the fog,
Was so intense,
Not knowing who I was

The daymares,
The nightmares,
People grabbing me,
People hurting me

I look at my arm,
I look at my legs,
Nowhere is my body spared,
Apart from my face

I felt *****,
Ashamed,
A burden,
On Society

I disgusted myself,
Yet not knowing why,
Even for calling the helpline,
I felt I should die

Its much like a fog,
Feeling my way through,
Occasionally bumping into things,
My mind says “thats you”

I was so very sick,
I only know now,
Just thinking how sick I was
Makes me physically ill now

It wasn’t me,
Id gone somewhere,
The pain too much,
And the shame, to bear

I break down now
When I describe these times,
I was in contact with people,
Begging them to take my life

It still comes back now,
Triggers, so im told,
I beat myself up,
Hit my head on the wall

It can be overwhelming
When it comes back,
Whether its the ****,
Or just the cruelty I faced

People were cruel,
So so cruel,
They hurt me so deeply,
That I thought I was cruel

I think back to times
I was abused by police,
I was abused by doctors,
In fact, all authorities

They just hurt me more,
They put me through hell,
The pain they caused me,
Left a story to tell

They were cold, suspicious,
Filling me with shame,
Making me believe,
That I was to blame

They traumatised me more,
More than ever before,
Or perhaps I should say torture,
I felt ashamed to my core

So much I could write,
But im struggling for words,
They hurt me, they did this,
Now I realise their curse

I cannot forgive them,
I cannot go back,
Here life's a struggle,
But my trust is coming back

I feel sad for time wasted,
Knowing Pamela would help me,
It pains me now to think
How I just could not let her help me

She believed in me,
Was ready to listen,
She understood,
Even spoke to the policeman

But I always feared
Asking for help,
For I was a burden,
Perhaps id feel worse getting help

They put this in my mind,
….a burden on society,
Dealing with the **** was one thing,
But this was a different story

Pamela tried so hard,
She took me to get help,
But it never materialised,
Instead, I totally lost hope

The days were long,
The nights were longer,
The man in my house,
Or is it my mother?

I didn’t want to exist,
I blocked out my life,
Then remembered what I didn’t want to,
My brain attacking me like a knife

There was no hope,
People are so cruel,
Do they enjoy it?
Watching people become ill?

I didn’t know how sick I was
Until I started getting better,
Im in a better place now,
But with a past full of horror

Its been a long time,
I think it had to be,
For me to find myself,
And to feel free

Now is the time,
Looking back on my life,
There were people, a helpline,
That physically saved my life

Although I was confused,
Not allowing myself to believe,
They told me again and again,
The one thing they did was believe

A have so much respect,
A deep connection too,
To these selfless women,
Who give up their time, for you

There wasn’t much you could do,
But you did everything and more,
You never gave up on me,
As I sat glued to the floor

Im healing slowly,
Reclaiming my life,
But I want to thank you ladies,
You did save my life

I appreciate everything you did so deeply it brings me to tears, thank you from the very bottom of my heart. .
Im new
3.1k · May 2022
ESKOM
Nomkhumbulwa May 2022
ESKOM

Where do I start?
Writing this by candle light;
Yet today we are lucky,
Load shedding came early

The system is done,
Its broken, corrupt,
Time after time,
Excuses one after the next

Us we are lucky,
In some ways anyhow;
For we have a few means
To keep warm for now

Others are not,
In fact most are not,
They suffer, they die,
But ESKOM - care they do not

Yes it was once ok,
to be totally without,
But once electricity is introduced,
Its difficult to go without

Those who have the means
Have done what they can,
Generators, gas, solar,
Options are endless, but only if you can

To most the expense is impossible,
Of course we want solar,
We want clean energy,
Just like we collect rain water

Its nothing new,
Its now been decades,
Leaving people to suffer,
ESKOM one problem after another

Winter after winter
Just when its needed most,
ESKOM takes it away,
Light, warmth, taken away

People light fires with paraffin,
Then bring them indoors,
Just to keep warm,
In the morning they dont wake up at all


Where is investment in alternatives?
For ESKOM cannot go on,
As one of my cousins said -
The grid is often more off than on

I cannot complain,
Not for myself anyway;
I choose to live here
I'll do things my own way

But I do see suffering
Knowing a long winter is ahead,
With an overburdened health system,
Knowing every winter leaves people dead

How much longer will it take?
For ESKOM to finally close,
To open doors for others,
Its time to get rid of the coal

In a Country basking in sunshine
nearly every day of the year,
The lack of solar power is saddening,
And shameful, but ESKOM doesnt care

Yes we have fire,
But we also have rain,
Those two dont mix,
Cannot cook on fire in the rain

The saddest things is this,
That ESKOM just dont care;
Lives dont matter to ESKOM,
Anyway - they have their share

The few that can make do,
They can afford to.
So everyone else is forgotten,
Nearly 80 percent of the population

Its cold, its wet,
We cannot light fire,
If we do its outside,
Buildings no longer designed for fire

How much longer ESKOM?
Will you allow people to suffer?
Will you eat all the money?
Will you do this to South Africa??

We all hope for a brighter future; quite literally...."brighter" ..  :)

Nomkhumbulwa **
apologies im new
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 2019
Enthusiast is a bit of an understatement,
My friend Claire could tell you that;
As we hiked from the West coast to the East coast of Scotland
At night she read "normal things" - while I read maps.

Of course I needed to be sure of the route,
But after 25 miles of walking that wasnt all-
I'd spend at least 3 hours staring and staring
The roads, the woods, the rivers, hostels, churches, pubs and schools....

In fact night after night I spent,
So long engrossed,
That after five nights,
I had one of the strangest dreams ever experienced.

I was "in" an OS map -
Walking a yellow road, past big red triangles,
Counting contours,
And heading straight for the strangest of all -
Just across the red road, the enormous half filled pint glass
- the public house of course!

Surreal dream that was,
But also great fun,
I was in an OS map...
One without people - I was the only one

I did ease up on the map reading after,
Thought I might start hallucinating otherwise,
Claire already thought I was slightly mad,
If I told her we needed to shelter from the rain in the giant pint glass - well, as I said, she already knew I was mad!

But my obsession is not limited to OS maps,
Oh no, its the entire World Atlas;
Continents, Countries, Oceans and territories,
Nothing escapes my attention in the World Atlas.

I have so so many maps,
Because people keep changing things,
From the names of Countries and places
To minor details...bridges...silly little things.

I have a map that says USSR,
The Soviet Union so large,
Now I have another with Russia,
Belarus, Estonia, Ukraine, and others that re-emerged.

Even isolated places like Greenland
People cant make up their mind,
Is it Nuuk or Godthaab?
They are both still there to confuse the mind.

I had a map with Zaire,
Once the biggest country in Africa,
Its now the Democratic Republic of the Congo,
Needed to amend my map of Africa.

Ok, all maps up to date;
Just when I can rest my map brain...
Sudan is then split in two!!
Get out the map Emma - quick - draw a line!!

I dont know what I think would happen
If my maps were not up to date;
But I just cant take the risk,.
I have to change them before its too late.

Most recent of course was Swaziland,
How? Why? When?!
Its ok, i've read about it now,
And I understand...let me get my pen.

But Swaziland is so tiny
Now I need to write eSwatini (!)
My map is now such a mess
Time for a new one? No not yet - Swaziland has not yet changed like the rest!

I have to wait for cartographers
To catch up and make all the changes,
Or otherwise i'll only trust my own map
The one with scribbles all over the pages.

Its not just on a Country scale
Such changes do confuse us,
For even in South Africa alone -
New names replaces the oldies.

Port Elizabeth,
Now Nelson Mandela Bay;
I think its wonderful,
But its not what my map says!

Umtata became Mthata;
Another very welcome change,
But that one letter is on my mind...
Quick - cross out the "u"...in case we go insane!

Nothing is more messed up in my guide books,
Which consist almost exclusively of maps
Than the city of Durban....
Street names have changed...but "not quite yet"

I picked up a local map,
And not shown in the one I carried
- Its still in process of "changing",
So two names there are for almost every road!

Pretoria became Tshwane,
Again I agree with the name change,
But by now the maps in my book
Make so little sense - it could be mistaken for Adelaide!

I wont go into Rhodesia,
There have been so many changes across Africa,
But if they were before I was born,
It somehow doesnt seem so much to matter...

I only get frustrated with
Things that I know,
Before 1980 -
I had no maps to know.

I'd be talking about the Transkei, the Ciskei,
The Orange Free State and all,
More recent but left in the past -
I have none of those on my walls.

I focus more on Africa,
as most will know i'm a bit obsessed,
Being from a British Island on the African Plate,
...with Ascension drifting away with America...albeit very slow.

The Mid Atlantic Ridge runs between them,
From Iceland to the South Pole,
Dividing the Continental plates,
St Helena and Ascension came out of a hole...

My mind drifts a little to Asia,
Although I dont know it as well,
But...is it Burma or Myanmar now?
And is Palestine shrinking still?

Islands cause much fascination,
Being an Islander myself,
But mine is just the tip of a volcano,
The map doesnt show anything else.

As far as Islands go - the Atlantic is easy,
Try staring at the Pacific,
Such a vast and empty ocean,
Hides many secrets...more than the Atlantic.

You may think St Helena isolated,
But only till your eyes enter the Pacific,
It might be a huge mostly empty ocean,
But the vast Island chains are prolific.

There are fracture zone after fracture zone,
Creating Island chains and coral atolls;
From the Coral sea of Australia,
To the Galapagos of South America.

There's Polynesia, there's Melanesia,
Micronesia too;
And within these - hundreds of Islands...
And yes - I've tried to count them too..

We look for other British Islands,
Pitcairn - the most isolated of all;
And what a sorry story to tell..
About 60 people and half of them in jail...

Sometimes im desperately trying to find an Island
To replace my British non-British Island;
Those who think im mad loving South Africa-
Wont even begin to understand.

But this poem is not about emotion,
So i'll mention that no more,
Its more about Geography
- too many Islands to explore.

Staring at the Pacific
Can occupy at least three sleepless nights,
Remembering the names of the islands -
Is a much more difficult plight.

Most heart breaking about this Ocean,
Is the Islands being lost;
Populations having to leave,
As sea levels rise and coral islands are lost...

I think I have found my location,
or a few i'd give a try,
On a large map they simply appear as "bumps"
Surrounded by bigger Islands, and the ocean wide

Sleepless nights have drawn me to Tokelau;
A tiny territory of New Zealand;
Three beautiful coral atolls...
But oh so far from New Zealand.

Less than one thousand people,
Yet with their own language,
The closest Island is Samoa,
That boat journey for me would be a privilege...

The Island has 100% clean energy,
With so few people to sustain,
It's setting an example for the World,
Tokelau looks like "paradise" on my map....if I had to give it a new name...

Indigenous people full of colour,
Flowers round their necks and some clothes a recent thing,
They even have their own musical culture,
Its only mass worry is rising tides - and the flat atolls eventually submerging....

There is another island I look at,
With its tribal peoples far more "untouched",
It really is like a land time forgot,
Although it does have an airport..

It is the Island of "Mog-Mog"...
Yes...I didnt make that up..
It really does exist,
Although I admit it took me years to discover on my map...

I wont mention where it is,
I dont want to give it away;
My maps are full of secrets,
And that is how some should stay.

You can visit from Tahiti,
Which is more like France than its surrounds;
But Mog-Mog is a totally different world,
Dont be fooled by Tahiti - Mog-Mog is part of the "untouched surrounds"

I could talk about these Islands forever,
As even I have not discovered them all,
But I have to finish with the Indian Ocean,
The Chagos Islands are British afterall...

What happened to the Chagossians
was a cruel sin of humankind,
Not just ST Helena suffers at the hands of the British
- Chagossians were forced to leave their Isle behind...

To make way for an American Air base,
Ascension - how familiar does that sound?!
The story of the Chagossian tragedy
Must touch every Islander to be found...

The Chagossians also inspire us however,
For fifty years on they are still fighting,
Fighting to return to their homeland,
Now a heavily guarded secret is their homeland...

My people however dont seem to care,
And that does make me sad;
This is another British Island
Not in the Atlantic, or Caribbean - but that does not make it bad...

The powers at be are so evil
That even after the fifty year lease was up..
The British just signed yet another...
As for the Islanders - they just want forgot...

I support the Chagossian people,
In their desperate fight to go home,
Even after deportation-
Their British Citizenship rights are next to none...

I am not proud of my motherland either,
And im not the only one;
I dont consider myself even British,
I dont "worship" my motherland like some...

I see what is really happening,
In St Helena and other "Crown Territories",
Just take a moment to look at them all....
and let me know if you find any that are totally "free"...

....oppression comes in many forms....

........................Nomkhumbulwa...
This isnt my usual style; it was heavily influenced by a huge amount of Diazepam.  But hey - its less depressing than usual....
1.8k · Jan 2019
I will never Be good Enough
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 2019
I am sorry mum
for everything,
For who I am,
For what i've done.

I am sorry mum,
For everything,
For what im not,
What I havent done.

I am sorry mum,
For staying away,
For being with friends,
For being far away.

I am sorry mum,
That I am ugly,
For what I wear,
For the state of my hair.

I am sorry mum,
That my opinions are wrong,
That I spoke without asking,
For the things that I know.

I am sorry mum,
That you think I dont care,
That I have upset the family,
That they never wanted me there.

I am sorry mum,
That you couldnt love me,
That I wasnt normal,
That other people like me.

I am sorry mum,
That I have expressed things,
That I have dropped things,
Caused a mess in your home.

I am sorry mum
That I wanted to study,
That I liked being outside,
And that I looked untidy.

I am sorry mum,
That Im an embarrassment,
Have caused so much shame,
And that I cause you pain.

I am sorry mum,
That im always a disappointment,
Showed you my photos of Africa,
I know now that I shouldnt.

I am sorry mum,
That I didnt have the right friends,
That I didnt wear enough make-up,
That I read about Science, not fame.

I am sorry mum,
For being vegetarian,
For picking out bits of meat,
In front of everyone.

I am sorry mum,
For when I didnt know what i'd done,
And you had to stand on my foot,
Or pinch me ******* my arm.

I am sorry mum,
For going walking,
For not doing house work instead,
Or finding something else to be done.

I am sorry mum,
For my work with charities,
For my love for Africa,
For feeling there so free.

I am sorry mum,
For having weird phobias,
And letting you down,
By mentioning it to others.

I am sorry mum,
That I struggle with Maths,
For being dyscalculaic,
I know this is bad.

I am sorry mum
For causing you sickness,
And for not being there,
I know it looks like I dont care.

I am sorry mum
For upsetting others,
Being the cause of all problems,
And hurting my brother.

I am sorry mum,
For my choice of work,
For the places i've been to,
For not always putting you first.

I am sorry mum,
That I made you so angry,
You had to hit me in the face,
And I made you go to bed unhappy.

I am sorry mum,
That I was quiet in school,
That Claire was my best friend,
That we were both quiet in school.

I am sorry mum,
That I chose Scotland,
For moving far away,
It cannot be forgiven.

I am sorry mum,
For my musical instruments,
I know I dont play them well,
That I gave you a headache instead.

I am sorry mum,
That I played the violin,
At my brothers wedding,
For you- ruining everything.

I am sorry mum,
That i;ve never been good enough,
That I always let you down,
I am just never good enough.

I am sorry mum,
For speaking about family,
For letting you down again,
And the family.

I am sorry mum
That I struggled so much,
You had to put chilli in my mouth,
As I couldnt do my homework.

I am sorry mum,
That I went "home"
That I let the **** happen,
That I spoiled your "name".

I am sorry mum,
That I do not love you,
I have cursed myself and tried,
But I cannot love you.

But I still hear your voice,
And it tortures me still,
And the thought of your anger,
Still gives me chills.

I am so sorry mum,
That I am a failure,
But I am no longer "Emma"...
...I am "Nomkhumbulwa"....
Back to the depressing style sorry :(  This could have been much longer, but think ive bored people enough.  If you can understand it, then thanks.
1.6k · Aug 2018
I Wish I was a Fridge
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
"I Wish I Was A Fridge"

I trust no one,
But I agree to see you;
You come every six weeks,
To see anything new.

I hardly know you,
I saw you last year;
I've seen others since then,
I know im difficult - thats clear.

But you came back again,
because there's no one else,
I have to trust you again,
When I dont trust myself.

But should I really trust you?
Or are you the same?
I hadnt seen you for so long
..i'd forgotten your name.

You ask me to explain,
And I try my best,
To explain whats in my head,
All the confusion and the rest.

I tell you everything,
With paper and pen;
Absolutely everything,
over and over again.

Then you say you cant help me,
So I feel even worse,
You say you are not a therapist,
I should have remembered that first.

All you care about
is whats in my fridge;
You go into my kitchen,
and check out my fridge.

Well the fridge is fine,
It might not be full,
But it has milk and leftovers,
...I wish it had wine too!!

You come here and visit,
And then I feel worse;
For I trusted you with things,
I should have thought again first.

For you cannot help me,
Why do you come?
My fridge is always quite happy,
My fridge is having great fun.

It has no nervous system,
No brain, no spinal cord;
Its incapable of "feeling"
Or trusting in the Lord.

You come all this way,
To look at my fridge,
You come here from Lamlash,
And check out my fridge.

I am clearly a failure,
As its always the same;
The fridge is just fine,
The pain is in my brain.

I wont see you again
for quite a while;
But I cannot promise
to put on a smile.

But my fridge will be fine,
I can promise you that;
If only I was a fridge...
...does anyone else feel like that?!

I shall get out some pens,
And draw a big smiley face;
Stick it on my fridge,
Just for you and your "fridge case".

I wish I was a fridge too, could put in and take out what I choose;
But im not an inanimate object - im a human being,
And I do often wonder....what got me into this state ...in the beginning.

All the best...with love...from the fridge :/ x
Rambling poetry during moments of frustration....not knowing who to turn to.
Nomkhumbulwa Apr 2021
Words mumbled,
If any at all.
Staring at nothing,
If anything at all

Sunken red eyes,
Unable to focus,
Slumped over the chair,
**** pungent in the air

I hardly see you
We hardly speak
And when I try
You’re too tired to speak

You sit on the street
Drinking with friends
I’ve no problem with that
If only I could see you at weekends

I know you work hard
You deserve the rest too
For me it’s chocolate
Cannabis for you

But you’re one of many
Nearly all my friends smoke
Yet we still communicate
We can laugh, we can joke

They can still see me,
They notice me here
No matter the ****,
No matter the beer

But do you see me?
Am I just in the way?
I feel so alone
Even when you’re here all day

No communication
No conversation
Staring and smoking
Then blanket over the head sleeping

You awake snorting loudly
Giving me a fright
It doesn’t seem to bother you
In the middle of the night

I’m not really here
It’s like I’m a ghost
You look straight through me
Then go for a smoke

The body is limp
The mind unfocused
Hardly able to smile
Ignore what I suggest

I cannot change you
I get it, it’s you
You are inseparable
**** is number one for you

It’s not up for discussion
Should I ask you smoke less
It is just so insulting
To try change someone else

Just to cut down
One less joint a day,
I might see the person
Hidden by the smoke and haze

Is it my fault?
Am I making you like this?
I sincerely hope not
For us both it’s a loss

Do you still know me?
When can we talk?
Or enjoy time together
Just in the park

Or is this just it?
How it has to be
Is this how we live?
Us who don’t smoke ****

I live with a shell
An empty smoke filled case
Not interested in me
I can tell by the long drawn face

Is there anything inside?
Are you there at all?
How much longer do I wait?
What am I waiting for?

Do you still know me?
Or am I just a “thing “
I cannot stop your ****
That would be classed as a sin

Everything I ask
Is repeated ten times
Over and over and over
You still cannot take it in

Is this how we live?
If living is what this is
Or am I being too sensitive ?
About how you seem to live with your friends

But they are watching tv
I think you are too
Only to discover at 2am
You’re sleeping, passed out in the studio

It is clear to me now
That I matter the least
You have to please your friends
Even as I cook and you eat

Why do I want communication?
Is it a failure in me?
I just feel like there’s nothing
It’s even a chore for you to make me a tea

I mention the idea
Of spending time together
But it’s taken as an insult
Depriving you of your friends, together

We do our own things
That’s healthy I know
But to spend time together
It’s a chore, so much effort, I know

This is the end,
The relationship passed
Stuck here without you
While the **** takes all of you

You live for the ****
I know that is true,
If you had to choose between us
The **** would win, it’s true

It consumes your life
I guess that’s how it is
But is this it for me?
Do I marry someone who doesn’t see me?

I do get confused
As you expect me at night
After ignoring me all day,
How will I do things at night?

Surely for such intimacy
A relationship comes first
Or perhaps it’s just me,
Wanting what I don’t deserve

You’re not here Tsietsi
You make noises, not talk
The words make no sense
I might as well speak to a wall

I’m not trying to be cruel
I’m not anti ****
The last thing I want to do is control,
To take away what people need

But I’m confused and tired
Yet I’m never enough
I try to cook, grow veggies,
It’s still, still not enough

The relationship to you has meaning
Very different to that of mine
Washing the dishes, removing weeds,
Is the level of connection we enjoy

Is that enough for you?
That I’m just here to cook?
To sit silently, without you
Not trying to talk

Is this how it’s meant to be?
A life without you, only me?
A woman is to marry
But a woman is not to see

Or perhaps it’s just me?
Should I smoke **** too?
Am I mistaken?
We don’t need communication?

I say goodbye, not leaving,
I just know you’re no longer here,
I will carry on
While you keep the **** and beer

Goodbye Tsietsi.....,,, let me know when you wake up **
Apologies I’m new
1.1k · Oct 2018
Doctor Bryan Hart
Nomkhumbulwa Oct 2018
This title could have been different,
Damaged by a doctor came to mind,
But in the end and without your consent
I chose your name, not to be unkind.

It needs to be there loud and clear,
For all the damage you left me with,
You will probably never know or care,
For the damage you left me with.

The outburst of rage right in my face,
In a hospital of all places,
Labelling me a manipulative liar,
A cruel, attention seeking waste of space

I am aware now that you were sick,
And for that I do not hold against you,
But what you did to me has grown and grown,
It has grown to the point where I hate you.

For now I dont know who I am,
I question my memories, my very existence,
You broke my confidentiality,
Spoke to my abusers without my consent.

I have had similar done before,
And yes from the same profession;
But that was out of sheer ignorance,
And the persuasive ways of the Exclusive Brethren.

He was a GP and I complained,
I received an apology, and I have now accepted,
I dont hold any grudges against him now,
I know how the Brethren can be very deceptive.

But you are more than a mere GP
You are supposed to be an expert,
An expert in Psychiatry
So your views remain - people tend to trust experts.

The thing is now I distrust myself,
You took away my sense of self,
You took away my identity,
You took away at this point - my entire family.

I do not blame you for all my issues,
Abuse from narcissists is very deceptive,
But by playing into the hands of my abusers,
You have taken away every desire I had to live.

I knew not that you were ill back then,
I left the country in a hurry,
I ran away from the pain and confusion you caused,
I ran away back to my  only "trusted" family.

The scar you left me with is still open and raw,
And now I have yet another,
In fact as time passes I have more and more,
The scar first inflicted by my mother.

Now the wound is inches deep,
And of course there are more,
There are the ones I have to create myself,
To take away the pain, and everything else.

The scar you left will never fade,
Now I firmly believe the words you spat,
In that chair right into my face,
On the hospital bed I sat.

I believe im evil and cruel,
I believe that for everything I am to blame,
I believe I deserved everything I got,
And what i'll never forget - is your name.

Now I question almost everything,
I dont know who I am,
I certainly do not trust anymore,
I dont know how  can...

Did the assault really happen?
I ask myself every day,
Because of the words you put in my head,
They are there to stay.

Your conclusions on me reached ST Helena,
So I was viewed with suspicion from many,
By those who were supposed to help me,
Not just from my family.

Although you have taken them too,
For yes, dont worry they now believe you,
They were what I had left,
Apart from the abusive few.

Your views fuelled my peoples attitude,
To ****** assault towards women,
It existed already of course,
But you gave them more reason to blame women.

I am completely alienated,
I have nobody and nothing left,
You took away my sanity,
And he...took away the rest.

I came close with the help of **** Crisis,
To taking this to court,
But of course these things are mishandled,
He was told but a free man until court.

He hung himself, thats what he did,
To avoid facing the shame, blame and hate,
The exact same as what us women face,
For him - with death its too late.

My people take this somewhat differently,
As what other British people might do,
They see this as yet another reason,
To say its something he didnt do.

This adds yet another dimension
To what you left me with,
How on earth am I supposed to know.
If it was real, what he left me with.

I dont trust myself, I trust no one else,
Due to that experience with you,
I have such a deep seated hatred for myself,
I now speak to only very few.

You took away even my Nationality,
For I am no longer Saint or even British,
I have seen enough in South Africa,
I have realised that I am no longer British.

For what you have done is make me feel safe
In somewhere burdened heavily with rapists ,
And for that very reason,
There are many people I can associate with.

A place of **** and ******
Is now my safe haven,
From St Helena to South Africa,
Who would ever have known.

There I am able to trust,
But here - no never again,
You have left me with such a deep wound,
When im here I just feel insane.

Now the tears fall again,
As I write this stupidly long rhyme,
But I cannot keep it inside,
Its all building up over time.

Because of you im not trusted either,
By anyone in the medical service,
Im treated with suspicion,
In fact im not treated at all by the service.

So I suffer alone with pain and distress,
Not knowing whats true and what isnt,
Not wanting to be seen by anyone,
Feeling like a total delinquent.  

You see what im trying to say,
Is that you damaged me MORE THAN A ******,
You misused your powers,
You abused my trust.

I wish I could get you out of my mind,
Because now all I can do is hurt more,
Just keep hurting myself,
To take away what I cannot ignore.

I could write so much more but wont,
I will just say one thing more..
I feel so sorry for Glasgow,
Glasgow deserves so much more.  

You could work here no longer,
And so that should be,
But does Glasgow not have enough problems?
Why now should these people suffer like me?????

........by Nomkhumbulwa.
One of the causes of many of my issues......thats all I can say.  Sorry.
Nomkhumbulwa Feb 2019
One minute fine,
The next minute not,
It may be freezing cold,
But my brain is boiling hot.

The tingling sensation,
And then the trembling starts,
I cannot feel my legs,
Yet how I feel my heart!

The environment is spinning,
The air is getting thin,
No matter how fast I breathe,
I cant get enough oxygen in.

Things enter my mind,
I try to force them out,
But the harder I try,
The more they come back and shout.

I feel im going to faint,
Im feeling so sick,
I cannot run away,
All my legs let me do is sit.

My legs get weak and heavy,
My brain doesnt know whats going on,
Everything becomes something to fear,
The floor, my clothes, hair... and so on.

My mouth is dry like paper,
My body is sweating yet cold,
Where did all of this come from?
Is this what its like to get old?

My body feels frozen,
But my brain is running around,
Playing tricks on me,
Where there is no danger to be found.

Breathing exercises dont work
Though they make sense normally,
In the moment of panic -
You lose all sense of reality.

The images enter your mind,
You try to force them out,
But the harder you try,
The more they refuse to get out.

Everything becomes a danger,
I will say one more time,
Every object becomes a weapon,
And slices through your mind.

The nausea causes more panic,
The panic responds with more nausea,
What a horrific cycle,
How to stop it I have no idea.

****** functions fail,
The digestive system especially,
But now your afraid of the toilet (!)
Though you need it in a hurry.

The trembling is so intense,
The fear so intense,
You struggle to make a call,
Your mind and body losing control.

Diazepam becomes your best friend,
You'd worship it if you could,
Its often there to save the day,
..Although at other times you just wish it would...

The adrenal glands are to blame,
Im not the Adrenalin rush kind,
My adrenal glands are evil,
How can they be so cruel and unkind?!

I dont like my adrenal glands,
Im an ***** donar - but if I die please be warned,
DO NOT TAKE THE ADRENAL GLANDS,
...then again, with the right brain, they could be your friends?

Its the "brain- adrenal gland" combination,
Which is of the ******* kind,
Perhaps if brain sent out the right signals,
My adrenal glands might understand.

There is a time and place for adrenalin,
I have sampled many myself,
But this is just not one of them...
Yet - subconcious brain fears itself...

That is it.....the brain "fears itself"...
Well, I tried to put words to the panic...
Not sure if i did it justice.  I could have written more.  So much more.  Anyway...didnt really know / plan on writing it at all! :/
1.0k · Aug 2021
Today you were taken
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2021
Today you were taken….

Today you were taken
Your life abruptly ended
All of a sudden
Cruelty bared naked

The sadness is deep
A sorrow so painful
We miss you so much Timmy
The shock still palpable

How can this be?
Such a beautiful young soul
So quickly taken
Your body in a hole

You didn’t want rest
You didn’t want peace
You were so full of life
You wanted to hunt, and eat cheese

It was not your time
Such as evil intervenes
Barely two years old
Natural causes take time

I am so sorry Timmy
That this had to happen
No words can express
The deep pain left within

May your spirit continue to bless and watch over us, you are forever welcome.

We hold you so dear,
Your loving friends- both here and afar. For you are so loved.
💔🕊💔
🐈
I am new apologies
798 · Jan 2019
Thirty Nine Years Old
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 2019
It wasn't the best birthday,
Not that 39 is exciting anyway,
But I wasn't quite prepared
For what my brain threw my way today

What is even the point?
In turning 39?
Next year Clare and I are going to Ethiopia
- to sneakily go back in time ;)

38 was old enough
But still not quite that bad
39 is a lot more daunting
For there are no more "30's" to be had

But a few days ago I met a friend
Who just turned 70 last week
What was even more shocking
- she is still much fitter than me!

Her grandson is now 17
I once taught him to bake cakes
Back when I shared her house
Duncan was at primary school for goodness sake!

I don't know if Clare feels the same
About this weird age to become
Or whether as some say its just a number
My 70yr old friends are forever young

I have so much admiration for Clare
With her determination to succeed,
She does make me feel younger
Although turning 39 is still **** - it must be agreed :/

But I was determined to make the best
Of the last year beginning with "3"
Although I dramatically failed
Got dressed, panicked, then ate grapes until tea...

I did let down Teresa
I admire her so much too
We were supposed to eat cake
And how I miss our conversations about poo..

But here I still am
Dressed for both Africa and the North Pole
Required a walking pole to get to the pub
With snow turned to ice - it wouldn't be pretty to fall...

But I finished my day with a whisky
A wee dram to still being 30 something
A single malt Aberlour came to my rescue
To compliment the huge amount of Diazepam

I shall try again tomorrow
Looking forward to seeing Carryn again
So I officially cancelled my birthday
And tomorrow I will try again

But my goodness how Im so grateful
To some very special friends
Here in Aberdeen,
Mary and Glyn are those friends

My brain tortures me frequently
And today we had so many plans
They all went down the toilet
Quite literally (!) but gladly from the right end..

So generous are my adopted family
I can never be grateful enough
For putting up with my panic
Understanding my brain says its "had enough"

It might have been a ****** birthday
But I don't know where i'd have been
If it were not for Glyn and Mary
And their endless compassion and understanding.

To all my friends - sorry for being "weird", and I really do appreciate all your kindness with all my heart.. ❤️
Well - it kind of says it all really :/ Wrote this as I come to the end of a difficult birthday which I shall attempt again tomorrow!   But also to show my deep appreciation for such good friends.
Nomkhumbulwa Jun 2019
You took everyone I knew,
All my friends, all my family,
You left me with no dignity,
Made sure everyone hated me.

I never knew you were cruel,
Thought I an abnormal child,
For my identity you stole,
Now all I want to do is hide.

You're the vampire of my soul,
You left me in the cold,
I'm so cold and alone,
You're the vampire of my soul.

All done in silence behind closed doors,
Made sure everyone thought otherwise,
You're cold narcissism used its claws,
You completely tore me up with your lies.

I never knew I could feel so alone,
But now everything I thought I knew is gone,
Cant trust no one, dont know whats true -
People believe the twisted lies you told....
Cant trust no one dont know whats true, ...
People believe the twisted lies you told. ...

I don't see you as my mother,
I dont even know who you are,
All I remember is fear and shame,
I dont even like my name.

I live the shame, I live it everyday,
You sided with a ******, turned me away,
It may well be hidden but its clear to me,
But covert narcissisms not there for all to see.

I bleed for you mum,
I let you hit me in the face,
Justified your behavior,
I'd always been a disgrace.

I know that you cant love me,
I hold nothing against you,
But the way you tore my life apart
Till the day I saw the truth

But where do I go from here?
In this dark and empty space,
You stole everything from within me,
To believe in the human race.

I'll never be free of you until my dying day,
Tho we hardly speak, I can feel you pulling the chains,
A victim of cover narcissism lives in constant pain,
Invisible on the outside, but im full of internal pain.

Betrayal, denial,
Blame, and shame,
Its covert narcissism,
And this is their game.....
Its actually a song I wrote for Mbira.  So it may not come across correctly as a poem.  The chorus is the verse with the words from the title.
674 · Oct 2023
Half my life...
Nomkhumbulwa Oct 2023
Twenty years ive known you,
Shocking as this sounds,
Back then I was a different person
My identity not yet found

I remember it well,
Meeting you online,
Intruiged by another culture
You were the mysterious one online!

I was obsessed with Geography
Knew every flag of the world
Spent hours staring at maps
I would never get bored

I knew I never belonged
In the land I was living then
So the atlas was an escape
From the confusion since I was ten

You spoke a different language
From the mysterious side of the world
I was fascinated by and drawn to
This different side of the world

It was an honour to meet you
I felt I was so lucky!
I now had a Russian friend
Although his English hard to comprehend

This made it just more interesting,
It showed language didnt matter
We were still able to communicate,
Even by postal letters!

I was young, insecure,
Brainwashed too at that time,
So this escape was a relief
The mysterious person online!

You temporarily rescued me
From the weirdness of my home
I dont have many fond memories
But meeting you was one

I bought a book because of you,
Called "learn Russian in 3 months"
I was drawn to the Cyrillic alphabet,
But only now 20 years on can I use it!

Russian in 3 months was hilarious,
It was never going to work
Three years yes maybe,
Thats what the title should be!

But such was your desire for English
Your skills overtook mine,
Now im surrounded by Russians,
....I wish Id learned more at the time!

By the time you came to visit
Id escaped to Scotland,
I was somehow free,
Although not yet entirely

The brain is great at deleting
Large parts of my life
But you kept all the postcards and letters
I was so surprised!

These things are like treasure,
Reminders of lost time,
Its good to regain the happy parts
And leave the rest behind

The phone call still makes me laugh
It took you so long to say each word
Even my cruel mother gave up
Trying to wait for the words

I remember the day so well
She called me to the phone
Told me theres a message
Then she left me alone!

Weird behaviour for my mother
The perplexity on her face
As she listens to the message
From a mysterious place

Now twenty years on
You've rescued me again
I got myself in a pickle
And you came up with a plan

Most people didnt care
Those I chose to tell
Except an angel, Patricia,
Her Nigerian name too long to spell

She didnt even know me
I met her through a friend
A friend from Burundi,
Now living in Scotland

In my hopeless depressing reality
Sat in a place called Gillingham,
I spoke to you most evenings
You again allowed me to escape

I looked forward to reading your writing,
Learning more about your life,
Now with your improved English
I wanted to read it all night

You knew I was desperate to leave,
And you suggested Armenia,
A country I had heard of
But shamefully only little

Meeting you in Armenia
Was the best decision by far
The best decision I had made,
Since being torn from Africa

I knew very little about it,
And yet I was ready to go!
It just shows how desperate I was
To escape from where I never planned to go

I have to say, you saved me,
If only from myself
And of course from the NHS
Who probably would have killed me

They say things happen for a reason
The universe makes a plan,
So I guess if I wasnt deported,
I might not have seen you again

You have changed my life for the better,
Although you say you dont do charity,
You even left me with your bank card,
As well as a way to make money

You may not see yourself as kind,
But that is all I see,
And I have always loved you
Ever since I was twenty :)
566 · Feb 2019
Now that you are gone...
Nomkhumbulwa Feb 2019
You were my everything,
I've always known  you were special.
But only now I realise,
How much I needed you my little girl.

You were my constant companion,
Never left me alone,
Always by my side,
Even after I left you alone.

You forgave me everytime,
I left you home alone,
Sometimes months at a time,
I was gone.

You trusted me always,
At the door on my return,
Waiting to greet me,
But I could tell you were concerned.

You had been abandoned,
Early in life,
I know you had a difficult start
Moving from shelter to shelter is no life.

We were supposed to be together,
I knew I needed to help you,
Rescue you from a sad untimely death,
And give you a loving home.

You had nowhere to go,
All those years ago
I couldnt let you die.,
You had to come and be mine.

You were more than just company,
You were a true friend,
They told me you didnt like cuddles,
But I found out thats all you wanted in the end.

You helped me more than any human,
You were so loving and kind,
You understood everything about me,
You were there when I lost my mind.

You let me cry on you,
You saw me cut myself,
But you never ran away,
Although I know you didnt want me to cut.

I loved you very much,
And I know you loved me too,
And I hope that you understood
How much I really loved you.

You saved my life one morning,
When our smoke alarms failed,
The house filling with smoke at 5am,
You got me out of bed.

Even Qasem loved you,
For when I was stuck in hospital,
He got over his fear as a Muslim,
He made friends with you, didnt mind your poo.

I always knew how you felt,
You showed me your disgust,
When I brought home the school gerbils,
And you pooped on my bed in disgust.

You looked after me in Aberdeenshire,
As I looked after you,
I know our house was very cold,
You got used to the coal fire so soon.

You helped me move back to Arran,
Im sorry for how stressful that was,
Such a long time to spend in a box,
But we had no choice but for trains, boats and bus.

I had lived here before,
But for you it was all very new,
Yet you adapted so quickly,
Walked out of your box, like you knew.

I know you were happy on Arran,
You settled in so quickly,
It was liked you'd always lived here,
Maybe because we were close to the sea.

My people got fewer and fewer,
But your loyalty was forever,
I know sometimes you were hungry,
We were both hungry at these times.

I never meant to neglect you,
And I know you understood,
I'd do anything so you didnt go hungry,
When I couldnt get out of bed.

I cooked fish from the freezer,
Though I know it wasnt your favourite,
I never meant to make you sick,
Your body just wasnt used to it.

I am sorry for how much I left you,
You lit up my life when I returned,
I trusted the people left to feed you,
Knew they'd take care of you while I was gone.

I was so happy to see you,
Looking healthy and content,
With your bright yellow eyes shining,
And your comforting purr of content.

Thank you for looking after me,
Many times you kept me going,
Although I have wanted to die,
I could never leave you my darling.

I had to stay alive,
I know you needed me,
No one else could be here for you,
And I know how much you loved me.

I may have gone away at times,
But I was always pleased to see you,
I knew you were here waiting,
And I always thought about you.

You became my only companion,
Nearly everyone else had gone,
You showed so much compassion,
You never left me alone.

I got to know you so well,
You went out a little in the sun,
But you never wandered far,
Wanting the door left open for a quick return.

Im sorry for the times you got stuck outside,
I know it didnt happen a lot,
But you always went to hide somewhere,
I know the fear now, it can be too much.

I know how it feels now,
I get the panic and fear too,
My legs collapse for no reason,
I know how it must have been for you.

When you got so sick,
I hated seeing you in pain,
But I knew you still wanted to be here,
And I kept promising, mummy will end the pain.

You were like a little angel,
Took your medicine so well,
Let me feed you by syringe,
You wanted to be here still, I could tell.

But then you were in such pain,
All night you'd lie so close to me,
Resting your bleeding tumour
Against my neck, the pain I could see.

Then I knew you didnt want to be here,
You were tired and had had enough,
You looked at me, trusted me to end your pain,
The tumour bleeding, swollen, you couldnt close your mouth.

I knew when you sat out in the cold,
You wanted it to end,
You were hoping you would die,
But I didnt want you to starve, so your body was still strong.

I could see you were in pain,
I could feel it too,
I even got used to the smell of your tumour,
So close to my face, as I tried to comfort you.

I'd wanted to give you diazepam,
But I knew from my training its not right,
But I did give you extra pain killers,
On your very last night.

I didnt want you to suffer,
Anymore than you were,
And it seemed to help you settle,
And these nights would now be no more.  

Mummy asked the vet to come tomorrow,
You had told me it was time,
I let you listen to the birds and music,
Comforting you until she came.

I wanted to take you to bed again,
But I know that would have been wrong,
I didnt want to end you life,
But otherwise, I would have been cruel, and wrong.

You enjoyed your last meal,
Some tasty treats came in the post,
You had more medication,
To ease the pain, as the time drew close.

The hours seemed to last forever,
But I was happy to see you at ease,
The vet came to our house,
You had your sedative on my knees.

You are not keen on strangers,
And tried to go and hide,
But the sedative worked quite quickly,
I picked you up and cuddled you till it was time.

Your body went limp,
You were so sleepy,
And the vet shaved your leg,
Much more humane that the heart, I agree.

Then she injected a huge dose of barbiturate,
Your heart stopped almost instantly,
Mummy wanted that injection too,
You died quickly upon my knee.

Now you are in the garden,
And I am so sorry,
But I did everything I could,
I cant let you in anymore, but I really wish I could.

I am really lost without you,
More than I expected,
Never knew i'd feel this alone,
Dont know what I expected.

The house now feels unsafe,
The panic does things to my body,
Nightmares wake me up,
And now you're not here to help me.

I wish I could have gone with you,
And we could still be together,
No more pain for either of us,
We'd be together forever.

I am so sorry Tiggy, please forgive me, thank you for everything,
love from mummy ***
I wrote this for my cat.  Pathetic as that sounds.  But I loved her so much.
565 · Aug 2018
He Never Walked Away
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
He could have walked away,
For there were many a reason to do so;
But he never did;
He was there through the highs and lows.

I gave him many a reason
To walk away for good;
And yet he stayed beside me
While I was in his neighbourhood.

There were panic attacks, crying,
Semi madness, paranoia;
All the usual consequences of
Being assaulted a year earlier.

There were so many times
I expected him to be gone;
I warned him in fact that -
I’m not worthy – my people are gone!

There is no need to put up with me,
Its not good for your health;
I’m used to people disappearing,
I’ll deal with things myself.

For I am being punished,
It’s how its meant to be;
At least for those of us assaulted
....in the middle of the sea.

But of course he didnt understand,
He’s from a different culture;
He wasn’t afraid to hold my hand
And protect me from the torture.

He has probably never met anyone
As mad and unstable as me;
Coming to stay in Soweto
And feeling so totally free.

He saw my love of Soweto,
For the children, the people, and more;
He spent so much time exploring his home with me –
He’d learnt which combi to get door to door!

When I had to get to clinics,
Not just one, two, three, or four (!)
He spent two days right there with me
As we waited hours to reach the door.

He didnt have to do that,
He has work to do back home;
Yet even when I shouted at him –
He never left me alone.

Of course I apologised later,
Tried to help him understand;
That my brain does its own thing,
Yet he was still there to hold my hand.

He never once walked away,
And thats when it occurred to me;
What a complete cultural contrast
....to our “people of the sea”...

My “family” are now Sowetans,
Although i’ve known that for a while;
When the clinics registered me as an “African”
All I did was smile.

Of all the times I thought i’d given
A reason for him to abandon me,
There was one in particular –
Where he’d be fully justified to flee.

To protect yourself i’d understand,
You may need to walk away;
And yet he didnt – he put himself at risk
...to protect me, I have to say....

It’s not an easy place to live,
He could have walked away;
I’m forever grateful for his bravery
And that he didnt walk away.

For a place where for so long,
Segregation was the norm,
It has come such a very long way –
Since the day I was born.

My culture, mixed as it is
Has not suffered in this way;
Instead it shuns and alienates people
....if they “dont obey”....

Well done South Africa,
Though the problems you face are not gone;
You could teach a lot to “my people”..
..a culture that needs to be re- born.
Written on Mandela Day 2018; an account of the total contrast I found in a society so different to the one in which everyone I know...walked away.
561 · Aug 2023
Roots
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2023
Home is calling
I hear it's voice
It's arms wide open
An African embrace

I smell the grass
Feel the soil on my feet
My focus on home
Runs so so deep

The warmth, the freedom
The people, the trees,
Africa is calling
Like a song in the breeze

My roots are grounded
So firmly planted
A long time before
Colonialism started

I see jacarandas
I hear hyenas
Joyful singing
Dancing till morning

The wide smiles
Cheerful eyes
Ubuntu is everything
Under these skies

The sun is glowing
On a wide African sky
Insects chirping
As the sun says goodbye

From all over Africa
Came my people
To my tiny land
Of my heritage

I'm there in spirit
I dream every night
Ask ancestors to guide me
Back home when the time is right

To sit with the baobab
To feel the connection
Something so deep
In my soul, a protection

To go back in time
At mighty Magelies
Sit in silence
In the area of our birthplace

The cradle of humankind
Is not just a name
It's real, still there
A place from where we all came

As old as the hills
An English saying
Well here you can feel it
These hills have seen everything

The warmth
The safety
The love
The humility

And my motherland
Isolated, alone,
A jewel in the ocean
Where few of us call home

I feel the longing
To be back
With my brothers and sisters
My soul is black

Nothing fills the void
Of our heritage calling
Africa, St Helena,
Calling and calling

Africa is ours
St Helena is mine
Those not visited
Won't understand

My roots are firm......

Nomkhumbhulwa 🍀
For heritage month
558 · Aug 2018
I have no sympathy...
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
"I Have No Sympathy"

Some of us want to escape,
To escape the constant pain;
Others...they do not...
They escape to avoid the blame.

I have read these things,
For I must know;
But as for having sympathy -
That is well and truly "no".

You did this to escape
The blame and shame you deserved;
You broke your family and us,
For we never got what we deserved.

You knew full well the fate you would meet
and instead of facing us -
You put a rope around your neck
....and jumped off a seat.

Your family deserve sympathy of course,
but you showed zero remorse,
You did this to them,
And you did this to us.

Some will continue to blame us
For your premature death;
But you are the one who took your life -
leaving us not "fixed" but with more strife.

If I am evil then so be it,
I have no sympathy, not even a bit;
So evil we may be seen,
You left us with more ****.

You knew full well
that justice would have been ours;
You knew full well,
that this had gone way too far.

Nobody knows how many you harmed
but with your death you did so much more;
You escaped justice,....
....selfish to the core.

None of us are stupid,
yet we deal with ignorance;
A victim blaming culture
with no common sense.

You are dead and gone,
You've no need to worry;
But your victims left behind
- we wont forget in a hurry.

You knew you were guilty,
You know you have no choice;
So you left us to deal with
the mess you had caused.

I have many emotions,
but sympathy for you is not one;
We live with it daily....
....but as for you...you're gone.

"Suicide is not a sign of weakness"
so we hear people say;
Well I and others beg to differ -
you were too weak to let us have our say.

I have no sympathy,
and yes that may make me cruel.
But you hung yourself for a REASON,
And NONE of us ...are fools.
Apologies....this one should come with a Government Health Warning :(
547 · Feb 2019
This is Not Love
Nomkhumbulwa Feb 2019
You send me gifts,
You send me cards,
You sign it with a kiss,
But this is not love.

You send me emails,
Tell me to write back,
I do yet dad never replies,
This is not love.

You belittle me,
Mock me,
Humiliate me,
This is not love.

Your words torture me,
You think its ok to hit me,
You justify your cruelty,
This is not love.

I have tried to explain,
I have never blamed you,
I needed the distance,
This is not love.

You dont listen to me,
You turn family against me,
You are ashamed of me,
This is not love.

You blame me,
You shame me,
You will never accept me,
This is not love.

You go behind my back,
Telling people you want to help,
Yet you only ever scold me,
This is not love.

You refused to listen,
Just continued to blame,
Telling me its not good enough,
This is not love.

Others have tried to tell you,
You are making me sick,
But still you will not have it,
This is not love.

Everything that happens to me,
How you would abuse me,
You can only show anger,
This is no love.

You have pushed me so far,
That i've lost my mind,
I've lost all hope,
This is not love.

I have had patience with you,
Told you I understand you,
Yet still its never enough,
This is not love.

You want me to visit,
You will pay me to visit,
Pay to make me more sick...
This is not love.

After I was assaulted,
Your anger was relentless,
The blaming, the shaming,
This is not love.

Screaming and shouting down the phone,
I was forced to listen, I had no control,
Telling me id caused so much damage, made people sick..
This is not love.

All I got from you,
Was yet more torture,
More abuse, no empathy,
This is not love.

Ever since that day Ive known,
You cannot be my mother,
I cant treat anyone like you did,
This is not love.

I cannot understand,
What it must be like,
To have zero compassion,
This is not love.

You tortured me before,
Then you tortured me more,
Now you want me to come back?
This is not love.

Mum - I do not hate you,
And I mean you no harm,
But you have caused so much damage,
This is not love.

I am certainly not perfect,
And neither are you,
But i'd never want to hurt someone,
This is not love.

You see ive studied narcissism,
Ive dedicated so much time,
Trying to understand you,
Reaching the same conclusions time again.

I know its not your fault,
I will never blame you,
But you simply will not understand,
That I cannot love you.

All you've done is prove me right,
Though for a long time I doubted myself,
You made me doubt on purpose...
Mum - this is not love.

You are a textbook narcissist,
Im sorry if you think im wrong,
You rejected my suggestion of getting help...
This is not love.

After I was *****,
I knew you'd react that way,
Yet your anger still sickens me,
It sickens me to this day.

It proved to me once and for all,
That you can never be my mother,
Maybe we could be friends one day,
But you are not my mother.

Mum we have no bond,
We never have had one,
All you've shown me is disgust,
This is not love.

Others may be on your side,
I've read up on that too,
You hurt me to your own advantage,
This cannot be love.

Im not trying to hurt you,
Disrespect you, or anyone else,
Im only now protecting myself,
For what we have...is not love.

You turned all those I love against me,
But thats what narcissists do,
Im not the only victim you know,
And I do know your love is not true.

I am sorry mum,
It is all I can say,
We both need to fix ourselves,
Then maybe we can meet someday.

But after all this abuse,
I am sorry to say,
That I do not love you,
This is not love mum, I now see clear as day.

Im tired mum
Please let me go....

Take care **
Sorry another depression poem written spontaneously in the middle of the night.  Another one directed at my narcissistic mother, although I have never really planned to write about her, it just happened.
523 · Mar 2020
Rethinking myself....
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
513 · Sep 2018
Who Am I?
Nomkhumbulwa Sep 2018
Who am I?

This is how it feels,
Total solitude;
I dont know who I am,
My body wants no food.

What have I done?
I must have done something;
Everyone and everything gone,
I must have done something.

Something terrible, something wrong,
For why would I be so alone?
It seems like so long,
Since I have felt “at home”.

I dont know where home is,
Where do I belong?
Home is where the heart is,
What did I do wrong?

I have let people down,
And not just one or two,
I have let people down
Here and in the South Atlantic too.

How can there be so many,
And now no one?
The fog seems very thick,
Everyone has gone.

How can you belong
When you dont fit in?
How can you forgive,
When you know not what you’re forgiving?

Was it me or was it them?
Now we shall never know;
I never meant to harm them,
I did no wrong....but even so...

When they are so many,
And your memories not so clear,
How can you even trust yourself?
With a mind filled with fear?

I know them,
Do they know me?
How can it be possible
That they cannot see?

I must have done wrong,
I must have deserved this;
There can be no other reason,
I must have deserved this.

I feel evil and cruel,
Never meant anyone harm,
But it seems I must have done,
Ive caused so much alarm.

How do I trust my memories
If there is nobody left?
Why dont I know what is real?
How can there be no one left?

My earlier writing met silence,
I heard from not a single one;
It seems no one wants to know,
I feel they blame me for what I “have done”

If it was my fault afterall,
How do I ever put things right?
Is he dead because of me?
A dead man cannot fight.

Nothing makes any sense,
What is right or wrong,
Just a mass of confusion
About where I “should belong”

Are the things in my head real?
Can they be trusted?
Or have I caused so many lives
To be completely shattered?

There were people on my side,
Yes, only a few;
But now where have they gone?
I wish somebody knew.

I am tired and confused,
I dont know if I was abused,
How can I ever know for sure?
When im so confused.

The world is no longer real,
I dont know who I am;
How can anyone heal?
If I dont know who I am?

The world now scares me a lot,
I dont want it to see me;
Im hiding in this “internal place”
Yet at the same time wanting to flee.

Everything is disturbing,
Nothing is how it was;
I want to hide from everyone,
And I have no answers.

But I am being called,
And the calling is so strong;
There are people I DO trust,
A place where we are...”at one”.

Some may think im mad,
But for me I have to go;
I left my soul in Africa,
I left it in Soweto.

I have to go back and find it,
To find myself as well;
And perhaps bring it back this time..
Only time will tell...

Its going to be a mission,
Im taking gifts for many;
The postal system’s ****,
But the people are worth every penny.

Please Mandela let my brain function,
So I can help those who need me;
As all the time i’ve spent with them....
....i’ve never felt so free.

UNkulunkulu akubusise Soweto ❤️
A poem I forgot I had written some time back  I think its fairly along the lines of my others :(
492 · Mar 2019
Fundamentally Flawed
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 2019
Why is it that we feel so fundamentally flawed? We are never good enough, never enough, are never understood, always bring about anger. We may be educated, but we feel so stupid....we are looked down on as the "stupid" one. The one who talks *******. We are somehow ALWAYS wrong. We are wrong. Its so tiring, trying to do good, and yet always failing. Failing somewhere. Trying to help others, we fail eventually. Stuck like this, feeling like an imbecile, who needs to be avoided. Hiding in this house, a prison. They look down on us. We might write, poetry, stories, music, no one is interested, no one wants to hear, there is always something wrong with it. Can never be heard. We are ignored. Perhaps by the ignorant, yet ignorant people can make us feel so weak, stupid, and irrelevant. We may feel overly sensitive, to protect those we love (not related to us, yet have become adopted families), and in doing so we are met with anger from our own. We are a disgrace,. A disgrace to society. Deserve all the pain. Nobody wants to hear us anyway. Nobody really cares. You see, they think we are "doing it for attention"...attention seekers.....out to hurt everyone else. Thats what they think. If we dare speak out - they ignore. They think to ignore is to teach us a lesson, it is to stop us from speaking about our pain. That we need to learn to stop talking about it. To keep it to ourselves, because we do not matter. It feels we do not matter at all. We are fundamentally flawed. And always will be. The good we do for others, is never enough. Its just NEVER enough. We face criticism even for WANTING to help others. Nobody understands. And maybe thats because we are fundamentally flawed. How can we ever be understood.
Its not really a poem, but I was encouraged to share it as a piece of writing that I had shared in a group of people faced with narcissistic abuse. As they could all relate to it :(
471 · Dec 2018
A Poem With No Title
Nomkhumbulwa Dec 2018
They never spoke again,
I have waited a year and a half,
I have reached out time and again,
But there comes a time when enough is enough.

I cannot force them back into my life,
Cannot force them to utter just one more word,
I will always love them just the same,
But their silence causes so much pain.

It feels like a whole population died,
Been wiped clean off the Earth;
And knowing in reality so many think I lied,
Just makes me want to run away and hide.

I cannot do anymore than I have,
I have forgiven them for how they treated me,
I completely understand the culture, though its sad,
I cannot go back and change what happened to me.

I miss them dearly,
I think about them every day,
I think about the pain I caused them,
Now in my history they will forever stay.

I long to have contact with cousins,
Aunties, Uncles, and friends,
But I know this will never happen,
And I will likely never see them again.

Its all so mixed up in my mind,
The events that caused me to be singled out,
If id had the choice, I would have gone to court,
Because then I would have less doubts.

I am disturbed by memories,
And also by the suicidal hanging,
And knowing that my people,
See me at fault for everything.

It makes me feel ***** and ashamed,
That I, and the other women are still blamed,
And for what is it that we have done?
To be born as "women" is all we have done.

Kevin, Maisie, Clare, Anna,
Eileen, Rita, Peter, Barbara,
Candice, Kerry, Alex, Teeny,
Susan, Wendy, Dennis, and Jelly...

Those names are so very few
Of the huge number of relatives I have,
I still remember the day at the refuge,
When you turned me away - even that made me so sad.

If it were not for South African women,
Running the refuge out of sight out of mind,
Then there would be nowhere for Island women,
Nowhere to turn, yet these women were so kind.

But I know the rest of you still look down on me,
As you no doubt look down on many others,
And what did we do to deserve this?
To be born as women; in that you are so disgusted.

Disgusted with me for questioning abuse,
For speaking out for the others,
Disgusted that I have broken the "silence",
For women are not to be "free", I have discovered.

For if women are to be "free" - then they must be alone,
Discarded by all and everyone,
For "causing you pain",
For "shaming the Island's name".

I still love you -
And always will,
You hold a special place in my heart,
That no one else can fill.

.....I was born a woman - entering this World having already committed the crime....and for that I am sorry.
Random middle of the night piece.
450 · Aug 2018
"Why did you come back? "
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
This is the question they ask me,
And one which I struggle to answer;
For it is not something I gave much thought,
And I really dont know how to answer.

It plagues me every day,
For you are still - ALL of you..."gone";
Why did I ever go back?
Had I been away for too long?

Perhaps I was being selfish,
Wanting to go back and see my Nan,
Wanting to go back to my roots,
To be on the ship while I still can.

To go back to where I felt I belonged,
I had waited ten years to go back;
And I still dont regret my return,
I dont see it as a reason for "attack".

I thought I had a family,
But it is quite clear that I do not;
For I struggle to find any answers
For this place that time forgot.

So it was a big mistake
To once again return,
To feel the soil under my feet,
For which I had so long yearned.

To climb High Knoll,
Looking out to sea;
Beyond the rugged terrain
lies nothing but sea, sea and more sea.

To climb the peaks,
Through the flax and the ferns;
Everything so green,
Being circled by the terns.

The wild windy bends,
On the road to Blue Hill;
The cloud almost consuming me -
and then everything so still.

The woods of Plantation,
And Rosemary Plain;
The sweet smell of fresh pine
Brings me back again and again.

The narrow streets of Jamestown,
Where cars and people compete;
Can take such a long time to walk,
Talking for hours with everyone you meet.

Swimming in the sea at Rupert's
Became my great escape;
With lovely friends we'd cook and swim
From early until late.

Being churned by the rough South Atlantic
Is like being in a washing machine;
When the huge waves come crashing upon you,
All you can do is hold your breath and hope...its better not to scream!

The water is warm but not gentle,
The swell can sweep you away;
As the waves pound rocks at your body,
You might be tempted to pray.

We swam and ate plo,
We swam and ate cake;
Fish freshly caught
Then from fire and onto plate.

Nana's house has not changed much,
The old geysir still in place;
The bead curtains, the photos,
of just about every single face.

Cockroaches escape hastily,
And the mozzies might come in,
Yet the peace and tranquility of this place
...with its "acoustics" of tin...

For the tin roof has a lot to offer
Especially for a musician;
The flute can be heard from afar,
Penetrating the silence within.

The rain drops make music too,
As they fall upon this roof of tin;
Every other sound may well be drowned out
And the lights sometimes go dim.

But to look from Nana's house,
To the peaks, the Gumwoods, the Fort;
Across to Francis Plain, the School,
And the sea in the distance of course.

Flagstaff sits prominently,
The sun setting on its flanks;
All can be seen from this house,
Built on these precarious banks.

I said goodbye to my nana
I did not know she was going to die;
She was staying in the nursing home,
I visited each time I passed by.

The house then felt more empty,
Even though she had to move out;
Suddenly it became so empty -
Everyone now has moved out.

It was also a place of torture,
And I am not proud at all of my mark;
I left this house with a darkness,
From which it will never depart.

I left the Island with darkness,
As it came time for me to depart;
The people, community shattered,
I still love it with all my heart.

I then felt I could help others,
After learning from those I could confide;
Since my once close knit family
Had pushed me to the side.

We thought we could bring justice,
For many victims of this fate;
But then as we drew so close..
...all of a sudden - it was too late.

Now we are cursed even more,
For our actions have caused such shame;
Yet he was the one who abused us -
He was the one to blame.

So I say goodbye as thats all I can do,
Tears flowing as I write this;
For I know with most certainty...
that I shall never return...and how I miss...

I miss you St Helena,
I tried to help you too;
But as closed minded as you are,
I am just more sad - there is nothing I can do.

Without the support of anyone,
Due to "fear of speaking out",
My own voice falls on deaf ears,
Even when I shout.

Now I must live with this damage,
And shame, and blame, and guilt;
Sometimes I still know not what is true,
Because as women - of course, its "our fault".

You are drifting away St Helena,
Our people - they have but gone;
I miss you, our jewel of the ocean,
Thinking back to the days when I was "still one".

I was still one of you till  last year,
How so much can change in that time;
But now our bond is forever broken,
Its broken...because of this crime.  

....and yes....it was a crime.
A new poem...not really thought out.  Just thoughts that came out (!).
418 · Aug 2020
Ke ya Ikhutsa.....
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2020
Reflecting.....

As the pace of life slows
To protect my health
I sit here reflecting
For I can’t do much else

The global situation
On all our minds
Surreal as it is
The Earth is doing fine

I sit here listening
To the sounds of Soweto
Wondering if there’s anyone else
Like me.... locked down in Soweto

Luck it may have been
I consider myself lucky still
I wouldn’t want to be stuck anywhere else
What a story I now have to tell

There is hardship and struggle
Even for us every day
Yet there is also love... beauty...
Something so special to be here to “stay”

I’m no tourist
But still I feel unique
I wonder... is there anyone else?
Anyone else like me?

I feel I belong
I always have
But now this feelings deeper
I forget I’m not local infact!

It’s only when I sit here
And think, everything still
That I remember I’m different
Yet I’m treated like a local

I have become a Sowetan
And it didn’t start this year
It’s been happening slowly
The township adopted me, year after year

People are varied
Some are illegal
Yet, as written in the constitution
This country belongs to all

I love South Africa
But not all of it’s the same
It’s here in Soweto
Here - I got a new name

I don’t feel any different
To others around me
I have become one of them
But still wonder..... is there anyone else like me?

Getting stuck here was a blessing
How things fall into place!
Although no one anticipated COVID
Being in Soweto puts a smile on my face

I feel it’s almost sacred
To find myself here
During this global pandemic
I’ve been “protected “ it’s clear

I’m here for a reason
That has been proven to me
And whatever the reason
... it was just meant to be

I “belong “ here in Soweto
There IS no one like me
I am now a Sowetan
...just as it was “meant to be”

Ngiyabonga beautiful people **
Forgive me I’m new **
416 · Aug 2018
A Poem to my People
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
A poem to my People:

"I love you all dearly,
but I know that you have gone;
I see you all here daily,
but I know that you have gone.

I don’t blame you, I understand you,
And I know that I bring shame;
But I also understand,
that I was not to blame.

I know I won’t be welcome likely
ever there again,
And although you may not believe me
I don’t want to cause you pain.

I hope for your forgiveness,
Although I did no wrong;
I hope someday you'll understand
that I did no wrong.

I have tried to make contact,
but you never spoke again;
And because you are so many,
this causes so much pain.

But I guess that you have gone now,
and forever that may be,
If he only hadn’t hung himself,
you might have believed me.

But now that I know,
that I’m not the only one,
I understand the "dark side"
more than anyone.

I understand the culture,
its different where I live;
And although I hope for change for all,
I as yet can just forgive.

I hold nothing against you,
as I said - I understand;
but I hope that in the future,
heads won’t be buried in the sand.

I rarely write poetry,
but this is all I can do;
as a way to get my thoughts across
to so many of you.

I live here in Scotland,
I don’t need to be ashamed;
here on this "Isle of Arran",
I am never blamed.

I hope that St Helena
one day will see it too;
that "there is no excuse for abuse"
no matter "who is who".

It’s sad to lose the RMS,
the most loyal Saint of all,
but she is serving us still by
opening the island to the World.

Opinions might be questioned,
from cultures far and wide,
but with that I hope you'll see
that I have nothing to hide.

Through my bad experiences
I have gained a lot as well,
I have an understanding of
all the people put through hell.

I know I’m one of many,
I know I’m not alone;
together we share this deep connection
to a place that some call "home".

I hope one day you'll forgive me,
as I forgive you,
for treating me the only way
that you knew.

The RMS is serving us,
by opening up this land;
If she stayed forever-
you might never understand.

She may be just a ship to some,
but to me she’s so much more;
She has a soul, a personality,
she had to leave our shores.

We have a lot in common,
both feeling as if "disposed of";
but I do hope we won’t end up scrapped,
and still receive some love.

I'll love you all forever,
even if I hear nothing again;
and I don’t regret my visit,
even though I "caused you pain"

You may not understand just yet,
but I hope one day you will;
and with more education,
the Island will be better still.

I stand by the others,
as they have done for me;
and I’m forever grateful
to my "extra family".

I wish you well for now,
as I’m tired and can write no more;
and I just hope that one day
Such darkness shall leave these shores.”

Take care,
love **
A desperate plea to "my people" who never spoke again, after I was subjected to assault.  They disappeared from my life completely.
407 · Aug 2018
Why am I still Here?
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
"Why am I still here? "

Why am I still here,
living in constant fear,
Although its not happened again,
Nothing can ever be the same...

I dont want to live with such pain,
The exhaustion and fear is intense,
I'm in my "safe space" now...
yet today I felt "behind the fence"

I will have to leave soon,
this sanctuary cannot last forever,
I will have to return once again,
Back to the same torture

I know im not ready to leave,
my body has been telling me so,
Until now I have felt so relaxed,
But now, my body says "no"

It has trapped my mind
in a new state of panic
with the fear of leaving
Is this fear and panic

I cannot do anything with ease,
I cannot even walk down the road,
For so long this has been "normal"
Yet now my brain feels "overload"

Overloaded with panic from nowhere,
Just the fear of leaving I guess,
Back to the painful unknown,
Back where my life is a mess....

I still look at my photos
I dont know who I am,
I dont know what happened,
I dont know how I can...

The fear is unexpected,
I feel no longer human,
Only the kids I work with
help me to carry on....

The people here - they think im sick,
because of the "winter sun"
What am I supposed to tell them?
That its my brain - not the sun?

Maybe this is the end of me
the end of fear and pain,
I am not afraid of dying,
It is better than being insane.

My time is coming to an end here,
and my life most likely too;
For all that I have left is here...
Its only here....in Soweto....
Conveying the feelings of terror and fear experienced prior to leaving my "safe haven", and having to return to a world where I feel I do not belong
386 · Aug 2018
From myself To myself...
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
How could you be so evil?
For there is no other way to describe
Your whole sense of being,
You are rotten inside.

Disgusting and disgraceful,
How can you be so cruel?
I hate you, everything about you,
Just like when you were at school.

There are no words to express
The evil you have inside,
The pain you are inflicting,
You’ve even caused suicide.

How can you do this?
To a society stretched at the seams?
You are a waste of time and money
And your dreams – are they really dreams?

How can you be trusted?
For you are diagnosed a liar;
You are not welcome in society
Nobody welcomes a liar.

What if none of it happened?
What if it wasn't true?
What if you made up the ****?
The only criminal here is you.

You have hurt so many people,
Your family and so many more,
You deserve all the punishment given
For your actions they simply deplore

What if the nightmares aren't real?
The fear and panic all fake?
What if none of it happened?
How much of a mess could you make?

You are a disgusting creature,
I hate, I despise, I deplore;
It is categorically impossible
To forget or try to ignore.

You are a black mark on society,
You do not belong in this world,
You don't deserve any friends,
You deserve no place in this world.

Where do your memories come from?
Why do you invent ones not real?
Do you not have any empathy
For how people really feel?

You are hated by all and everyone,
Yourself included if not more;
Nobody wants to know you,
You stay right behind that door.

Don't you dare show your face,
For you are not welcome;
Stay away from everyone,
You will only do them more harm.

You have a sick mind, how could you?
How could you cause so much distress?
Your spitefulness has shown no limits,
And you couldn't care any less.

You are a diagnosed a liar,
A deceitful, sadistic disgrace,
Nobody is ever going to believe you,
Such liars should not show their face.

There is no help for evil like you,
Services are there to help others;
Not to be wasted and drained and abused,
And how can you keep blaming your mother?

They do not have time for your fake memories,
Your fake life events and horrors;
There are people dying every single day
Nobody cares of your night terrors.

You need to sit in a hole and stay there,
For the safety of everyone else,
Just stay there, do not come out,
For we must protect everyone else.

Nobody is here to beat you,
So you must do it yourself,
Keep cutting and bleeding and bleeding,
Cut deeper to forget yourself.

Watch the blood as it runs
Keep cutting, don't let it stop,
This blade will pierce your evil soul,
Its painful, don't let it stop.

I am going to keep punishing you,
More and more and more...
This blade will pierce your body,
As you lie in a heap on the floor.

For there is no other way out,
You MUST feel this pain,
For this is for what you have done to others,
Over and over again.  

This is all you deserve,
Feel the blade pierce your skin and then bleed;
For your blood is the source of your evil,
The evil on which you make others feed.

This pain will last forever,
I will never be done with you,
I just want to keep making you hurt –
Until you know what is true.

Now cut.....
All I can say is I am so sorry for the graphic nature...
365 · Mar 2019
His Name is Callum
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 2019
He lives just round the corner,
A little boy of only 4 years old;
Born so long before his time,
He is not a typical 4 year old.

He has already survived so much,
Just in this very short time;
Conquered everything he has faced,
Time and time again.

He is kind of a miracle,
Or at least I think he is,
For in his earliest days
Only his mummy truly knew he would live.

I changed my last verse
As I failed to give him credit,
Nobody knew if he would pull through,
But I believe his mummy knew he would make it.

She too is a miracle,
A pillar of never ending strength,
She deserves a poem of her own,
To make it all make sense.

But I chose to write about Callum,
As he is a very special little boy;
After all that he has been through,
He has brought with him so much joy.

He's had tubes up his nose,
Things pumped into his belly,
But taken it all in his stride,
Eyes glued to the telly.

He may be a little behind,
In terms of speech and development,
But he certainly makes up for that
In terms of enjoyment.

He battled to enter this world,
And so rightly so;
Callum firmly belongs here
Anyone who knows him would say so.

His speech has come on leaps and bounds,
Just in these recent months,
So nice to hear him talking,
Talking and able to make sense.

He does have his melt downs,
Not able to get his point across,
But all to be expected,
We line up cars and let it pass.

What I really wanted to write about
Is what he has done for me;
This little boy with all his problems
Has had such an impact on me.

I do not think about what he cannot do,
What he can say, whether he can tie his shoe,
I simply appreciate the way he is,
And focus on what he can do.

In my struggles in my strange world,
Callum is an absolute delight,
I know his mummy sees more of the other side,
I've only been there for short periods of day or night.

For anyone with anxiety
Callum is highly medicinal;
One of the many reasons I believe
That he is a medical miracle.

I maybe shaking before hand
But after spending time with Callum,
I leave calm and relaxed,
As well as having had so much fun.

With his cheeky little smile,
And a head once full of many curls,
His little eyes would melt anyones heart
They light up the room, as he pulls it apart.

He's now a tough little cookie,
He's shown that many a time;
Whether its suffering cold after cold,
Or outside barefeet on the stones!

He knows how to get up to mischief,
We play the light switch game a lot;
He knows what he wants from the kitchen,
He will take you by the hand and tell you whats what!

To me Callum has a bright future,
Regardless of being a little behind;
There is so much more to life,
Than just doing things at the right time.

To me its a "symbiosis",
In Biological terms,
I look after him,
But he helps me too, in return.

I dont know what he will be when he's older,
But I do know he's already a therapist!
"Callum sitting on prescription"
Should be a common request!

I could write so much more about Callum,
But my brain right now is in a mess,
Although when I see him again,
I'm sure he'll re-wire it, and put it to the test!

He is a special little boy,
With a bright shining light;
A bright shining flashing light in fact -
We all know how much he loves lights!

One day he may be embarrassed,
When mummy reads him this rhyme;
When he's old enough to understand,
And to reflect on these lines.

But Callum, all I can say is Thank you -
For brightening all our lives;
Thank you so much Callum-
You help me to survive :)

....lots of love...Aunty Emma :) ***
I wrote this a while back, for my neighbour.  But I didnt want to share it until I had given it to her.
358 · May 2023
Bandile
Nomkhumbulwa May 2023
I don't know where to start,
As I write this from the heart.
And since the day you left us,
We are bleeding from the heart.

We only met so recently  ,
Four years ago in fact.
You came to visit on Christmas Eve,
Danced in the yard with Tsietsi

I still don't know what happened,
We still think of you every day
I could not attend your funeral
I wanted you here to stay

Bandile I'm sorry,
Is all I can say,
I can't write without crying,
Pain doesn't go away

Such a huge person,
With such a huge heart,
With such a huge smile,
And a voice that is still heard

So full of life,
You filled us with life too,
Your happiness, optimism,
Philosophical you

But Bandile I remember
So terribly terribly well
The night of that phone call
And how the world just fell

How could this be true?
We saw you last weekend
You talked to me about dying,
But it wasn't part of the plan!

After patching you up last year
With a hole in your head that day
I always worried,
But not you; life's too short you say

And then you left us
Nobody knew what to do,
A dark cloud over Soweto
A community heartbroken, it's true

People carried on,
As funerals require,
Maybe you gave them strength,
But I've never seen people so tired

The unanswered questions,
Keeping our wounds open,
Unable to accept or believe,
Easier to pretend.

For me that's what happened
I pretended it wasn't true
It was so impossible.
Anyone, but not you.

You are full of life to me
Calling me "Emmerentia"
And I think you always will be
A beautiful image forever

I have so much to tell you,
But your philosophy sticks with me
I try to use it to help me
I see how it set you free

You went before your time
Never came to eastern cape
We had so many plans,
Then in seconds they evaporate

I think we all feel the same
And we probably always will
We wanted to speak to you one last time
To hear your cheerful voice

Bandile you are such a good friend,
A brother, a father too,
The kind gentle giant
Is how we remember you

It still seems unreal
At least for me it does
But I didn't want to say goodbye
Where would we put all the tears?

Stoicism kept you strong
The one comfort we may take
Knowing you'd say "that's enough"
"No more crying", "let's just dance"

I cannot finish this poem
Because there's too much to say
You live on with all of us
And forever you will stay

Bandile we all love you
Orlando West, Rockville,
Rosebank as well as Soweto
Will never be the same without you

With love always from the bottom of my heart, I write looking at mount Ararat. Finding the peace I needed to start.

For you Bandile.
Or as iPhone called you " ban dyl zondo!"

You're so right....life is short.
💔🙏😥🥀⛰️🏔️🌠🕯️🕯️🕯️
Apologies for grammatical errors
302 · May 2019
Spoilt Brat...
Nomkhumbulwa May 2019
That is what you are,
So evil and unkind;
There is a reason you are alone,
And its not difficult to find.

There is a reason why you must bleed,
These people are right about you,
As disgusting burden on society,
It would be much better off without you.

You are ignorant and stupid,
Why would anyone want to know you?
There is a reason you are so alone,
Nobody is at fault, except you.

You upset everyone,
You're spiteful and unkind,
You dont understand their pain,
And the pain you have left behind.

There's nobody to help you,
For you are beyond all help,
There is no cure for such evil,
Money will be spent on someone else.

You deserve to be alone,
You deserve no family,
No friends, nobody to trust,
Thats how its meant to be.

Nobody wants you in this World,
The damage you've done is enough,
You were never wanted in the first place,
But you were born, with no love.

For why would anyone love you?
You're a failure in every way,
You've let down an entire society,
They will hate you till your dying day.

And you deserved it all,
You selfish, manipulative liar,
Nobody wants to see your face,
Nobody wants you to be here.

Keep cutting deeper with the blade,
Use something heavier for the bruises,
Because until you are dead,
Punishment is the only way to abuse you.

Stay away from others,
You will only do them harm,
Plus they will just never understand,
They are not from where you are from.

Just for writing this
You will be scorned,
An attention seeking waste of space,
Dont say you weren't warned.

Nobody wants you here,
You damage everyone,
Please just damage yourself,
Leave everyone else alone.

You dont belong,
Keep bleeding for them,
Shame you dont have enough pills,
To put it to an end.

I hate you **
Another piece from my self attacking brain.
282 · Apr 2020
Lockdown South Africa....
Nomkhumbulwa Apr 2020
It doesn't come as a surprise,
Of course life’s always a struggle;
But with Coronavirus too,
The struggle is only more real.

Suffering is not new,
Nor hunger, or poverty;
Yet more than ever
People now see the reality.

Coronavirus not the biggest risk,
yet its presence here is still deadly;
With an Economy crumbling to pieces,
We all wonder what will happen to this Country?

Though numbers are low,
Compared to the first World,
Collateral damage is devastating,
With the lockdown, the situation deteriorating.

We sit here, we wait,
Watch the news at nine,
For its impossible here
To be online all the time.

Some people are scared,
Some people don't care;
Or perhaps its more a case
Of being used to living in fear.

Queues are miles long,
Yet these people are lucky;
For many there is now dire hunger,
Food parcels not reaching the poor.

The Government is doing its best,
To limit the effects of this virus,
On the health of society,
But perhaps more, on the dying economy.

Inequalities are not new,
But now they are stark and real;
The rich minority at relative ease,
The rest of the Country diseased…

People die here all the time,
The health system stretched as it is;
So how do we tell these people,
They need to go hungry to live?

With untreated disease already a burden,
Coronavirus alone is not such a risk;
But what it does do
Is creates yet more poverty and sick.

People are trying to understand
What is happening in the World;
But for most the World is far…
That World is now affecting this World…

For us, neither rich or poor,
A rare case of “in the middle;,
We are able to grow vegetables,
Write music, get to the clinic.

We also watch in horror
At those suffering now even more,
For those in informal settlements,
Social distancing is just not possible.

People are going without,
Trying to live on one meal a day;
Or going to bed hungry,
Feeding their children instead, as they continue to pray.

People here live day by day,
Earning just enough to buy bread;
With this now taken away,
They’re desperate, and some are dead.

Not due to this virus,
But death still continues;
Beaten to death by the Army,
At home, with their families….

The situation here is dire,
This Country far from developed;
The poverty, the hunger, the desperate,
No water in taps in some districts.

The situation here is dire,
I cannot lie or pretend it’ll all be fine;
people are suffering all around me
And yet all I can do is …..stay at home.

I sit here writing this helpless,
Able to teach, if it was possible for those to learn;
I feel the desperation of parents,
Education in this land must go on.

But as for now
We are either “stopped in time”, or desperate;
How the schools will eventually cope
Is anyones guess.

People need food,
People need school,
people need help,
But…..people have not lost hope.

As for myself
I write, and I plan some more;
Hoping that one day soon,
I’ll be able to help a lot more….

……Nomkhumbulwa…….
Apologies im still new ;)
205 · May 2021
I just want to say goodbye
Nomkhumbulwa May 2021
Written for “uncle “ and his family

I’m not part of the family
Not connected by blood
I know I’m an outsider
Might not behave as I should

I’m not in a position
To say much here
It’s not my place to take over
I’m privileged to be here

But I just wish to say
That I do share your sorrow
Even given the short time I’ve been here
I really do feel your sorrow

I don’t feel it the same
For it’s not my place
But I’d got so used to uncle
Seeing his friendly face

He could always smile
Even when in so much pain
He had patience, was happy
He would barely complain

He enjoyed my baking
I’m glad that he did
For it’s a way to give back
As he gave me somewhere to live

I could see how much
The cars meant to him
A life without being able to drive
Would be a life so grim

At 83, this kept him going
He lived for his cars
With help yes maybe
I could see him fixing engines

He was always polite
Not a bad word for anyone
He rarely asked for help
Even when he was struggling

We all got used to seeing
Uncle struggle every day
But he kind of struggled happily
Perhaps to help the pain go away

So it came as a shock
For this reason alone
We think people will go on forever
Forgetting about their bones

For me at least
I can say I was shocked
I hadn’t taken notice
If he’d recently been more sick

One day he was fine
The next not so good
But this wasn’t unusual
He would bounce back, he always did

But this time he didn’t
None of us prepared
For the devastating news
When uncle’s death was shared

We all have regrets
When somebody dies
For me of course I do, uncle
I regret not spending more time with you

I appreciate your friendly face
I think everyone did
I will remember you smiling
You even had time for the kids

I’m sorry about the maize
That I grew right outside your house
I’d forgotten it would get that tall!
You had a forest outside your house!

You saw me struggle with the garden
Even offered to buy me more hosepipe!
Of course I didn’t expect this
But the thought shows how you wanted to help

You told me I was going the wrong way
I was trying t avoid soaking your feet
Why was I going so far?
When you were happy to move your feet!

I have many fond memories
But for now I just want to say
I do miss you uncle
I wasn’t prepared for that day

You have a wonderful family
Who have made sure things go well
I’ve never seen people work so hard
As your family, preparing for the funeral

I hope you can hear me
And see how much you are valued
For me the place will never be
The same, without uncle and his Volvos

But you are no longer in pain
Looked at peace when I saw you
I wish you the rest you deserve
Hamba khalhe uncle, rest in Peace- we love you

🙏
181 · Mar 2020
The World Has Stopped...
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 2020
Nobody knows what’s going on,
What will happen next,
When will it be gone?

Silence is golden
When used by free will,
But when it is forced
Everything seems more still

What’s round the corner?
Nobody knows,
People wait anxiously
As everything slows

The world is slowing,
Although the trees are still blowing,
Other creatures seem safe,
But humans are not safe

Schools are closed,
No one able to learn,
Hospitals, clinics,
People waiting to die in turn

But nobody knows
what’s happening next ,
The whole world coming together,
And yet also separate

Self isolation,
Quarantine too,
This isn’t a problem,
But if only we know

To know what is coming,
Will it mutate again?
How many more countries affected
We just wait in vain

It’s not just the disease,
It’s much more than that,
Society is failing,
Can’t even buy food for a cat

Here in Africa
we were lucky till now
We may still be lucky
But nobody knows

Now there is tension
The unknown but a fear
Are there enough masks?
We don’t know what’s clear

As a microbiologist
It’s actually intriguing
Yet at the same time
It may become frightening

Africa looks on at first world countries
If it should happen to us....
There may be so much mortality

Have they acted in time?
We ask ourselves
Do those in power even know?
I think the answer is no....

Nothing on the shelves abroad
A common occurrence right here
But could we cope with less?
There is already not much here

Yet there is comfort here,
Most people are calm,
Accepting their fate
Without need for alarm

There have been trying times
In this country alone
Yet people danced and sang
Whatever may or not come

Is this Darwinism in action?
Will only the fittest survive?
The world is overpopulated
...we can only try to survive

We look on in shock and horror
At Europe, America too
How can this be happening?
Is it real,,... this flu?

But for us we remain
Day by day we struggle
It’s not new....
We just want someone to explain
Our Africa right now is on edge

To those impoverished it matters less
Others watch, doing what the tv says
Trying our best , wash, wash, wash and wash

But daily life goes on
People still die of TB
And with a heavy *** burden
Death is a daily reality

So for now we wait
Patiently as always
We wait for tomorrow
For its never guaranteed

Already our systems are stretched
Education is key, we know well
What must we do for these children?
Already behind and many unwell

Apart from waiting,
Listening.....following
One thing we do have is hope,
With crisis after crisis
......Africa will never lose hope

For to hope....and accept....is all we can do......
...sending best wishes to all of you ***
Apologies im still new and wrote this a week ago before the situation worsened, and now we too are entering a lockdown :( Best wishes....**
179 · Oct 2019
Hope out of Desperation..
Nomkhumbulwa Oct 2019
It shouldnt be this way,
Is what I think i'd hear you say,
For this is a "developed country",
Or at least - it thinks that way.

So then why am I leaving,
To find help somewhere else?
To a country still developing,
A country that needs help itself.

Out of sheer desperation,
That is why im going,
To the people I love and care for,
And as an attempt to heal myself.

I gave them one last chance,
Ive explained, Ive asked for help,
I was shocked and did get close,
Yet that plan failed, there's no help.

This is the state of our services.
And to be seen in the area struggling most,
Yet here I am again,
Back where I started yet again.

It seems there is no money,
It seems there is no help,
Of course it depends on your "problem"
But for me, it seems there's no hope.

The world looks up to this land,
With its Health Service to be proud of,
But seriously, where is it??
Two years later, ive not found it.

So I will return to South Africa,
Where services are yet more stretched and underfunded,
But with patience and perseverance,
There can at least be a way forward.

Im fortunate due to the exchange rate,
It fills me with guilt no end,
For not all can access the help they need,
I dont have much, but they cant afford it, I can.

The public system is slow of course,
But that does not bother me,
For when I finally see someone -
They treat me with respect and dignity.

It may not be for everyone,
But South Africa is a last chance for me,
I know I can get some treatment at least,
And some of it is free.

It may not fix me completely,
For I will probably not have time,
But what am I doing here?
I've got nowhere, in all this time....

Yes it will not be easy,
Life in a Township never is,
But what it does give me is hope...
And with that - it allows me to "live".

.....I have not "lived" for 2 years. All I have done is "exist"....

Good night. x
Im new apologies.
161 · Dec 2021
I am me.
Nomkhumbulwa Dec 2021
I am me…

I have every right to be
To be me; I am me.
We’re all unique,
Different looks, styles, personalities

I have a right to be me,
As you have a right to be you
I may have opinions,
And that right you have too

It’s taken time to realise
That it’s ok to be me,
For so long I thought
That there was something wrong with me

I didn’t meet expectations
But these can never be met,
For we all have our own path
We cannot be something we’re not

I’ve stopped trying now
To be somebody else
Whoever they wanted me to be
I cannot, for I am myself

And it is ok to be
To just be yourself
Cause no intentional harm
To anyone, even yourself

If you don’t approve
I cannot help you
I will no longer try
To be something I’m not, for you

My life is for me
And those part of it
I’m not a slave to anyone
Even if you’re my family

It doesn’t give you the right
To abuse, shame and disgrace
Just because we share blood
We all belong to the human race

You are you
And that’s ok too
Just be yourself, but
Don’t force others to be you

You have your life
And I have mine
If you don’t like it
Then perhaps it’s a sign

A sign that distance
And disconnection is necessary
I’ll never be good enough
Do you not yet see?

You have expectations
I cannot live up to
And I will no longer try
For I have a life too

I know who I am,
Though not who you want me to be
But that would never work
For I am a “human “ you see

I’m not here for you
I don’t belong to you
I’m no slave, no lower species
I’m here for those who need me

I feel loved
I feel despised
And though I’ll never know why
The problem is no longer mine

You do not own me
I’m not living for you
I was born as myself
Not born an extension of you

I use my own mind
Feel my own emotions
At last I am free
Free from the web of confusion

I have set backs
I have flash backs
Feel the pain
Just the same

But I’m stronger
I’m getting stronger
Every day
I’m working hard

To know me
Just me
No one else,
Just me

You have taught me so much
And I’m grateful for that
Even through all the pain
I Can now help others who are trapped

You taught me exactly
How not to treat people
Taught me the effects
Of torturing people

I see through you now
And it does make me sad
But you see - I know me
I’m becoming, slowly, free

I Am me,
So please……let me be.

Me.


Nomkhumbulwa……
I’m new apologies
131 · Apr 2021
What have I realised?
Nomkhumbulwa Apr 2021
That I don’t like me,
I don’t know me,
I don’t want to be me,
I don’t want anyone to see me

The self is ugly
Shameful, stupid
Complete lack of respect
I now have regret

They were right
What they said about me
On St Helena
My entire family

I only want pain
To punish myself
I am so stupid
And selfish but lacking a self

Why am I like this?
That I don’t know
But I do know I’m like this
How I got here I don’t know

Spiteful and hateful
Lacking respect
It’s not all about me
Why do I make it seem like that?

I’ve realised I hate me
But it’s not something new
I have such disgust, no empathy
For myself- I’m just cruel

I am cruel to others
I have no respect
I’m lazy and unhelpful
Why do I get so upset?

Was my mother right?
Or did she make me like this?
Perhaps I am becoming her
In my face was her fist

I want her to hit me
I want her here now
I need the abuse
To remind me, I can’t spell

I want to feel the beating
The words stabbing
I need to be punished
For I am failing

I’m a failed person
I have nothing but shame
For dragging good people
Through such pain

I don’t want to speak
I just want to hide
I don’t belong on this earth
Have my cat always by my side

Yes I am a witch
And witches need cats
I make herbal concoctions
I even own a broomstick

No one should hear my voice
For I only bring pain
Lack of understanding
How cruel can I be, causing pain

But why do some people like me?
Am I not being genuine?
How do I let them see
Who I really am within

I only bring misery and
Offend those around me
It’s true I’m a burden
A burden on society

I don’t belong anywhere
In this realm or the next
I don’t belong anywhere
I’m not human, I’m something else

They describe me as fragile
So why don’t I break?
Shatter into pieces
Wash down the drain to the lake

When will I snap?
Completely out of my mind?
How much more will it take?
While I burden mankind

I don’t know what’s wrong
But it needs to stop
My mother should be here
To hurt me, send me into shock

I don’t wish to be with her
I just want to feel pain
The pain she inflicted
How she did this to my brain ?

Why do I want it?
I don’t know
Perhaps there’s something
Inside me that I don’t know

I am a living lie
I’ve caused death and despair
I deserve the beating
Feel my blood trickle to my ear

I have no self confidence
No sense of self worth
But why should I?
These are things set up for me since birth

But I do know my cat
His name is Timmy
He’s always by my side
He is my family

He is a sentient being
Intelligent and loving
He will show his disgust
To anyone who might hurt him

He stands his ground
Catches rats for me
Yes he is part of the family
Vermin control a necessity

Nhlanhla and Nomhle
Mosa, Lufuno,
They all love him too,
He is well known it’s true

He speaks no English
But we get each other
We have a deep connection
To Mother Earth, she’s our mother

We share the same planet
We eat the same food
We get scared by some people
We hide, we don’t move

We don’t like loud noises
we’re sensitive to smells
We spend a lot of time sleeping
We can’t always reach the bathroom

His chromosomes differ to mine
But that’s all there is
We are both mammals
With a “brain”, heart, lungs, kidneys.....

Today I saw another animal
While I was at Mofolo
Slim with a slightly curled tail
I still don’t know what it is

Would it be my friend like Timmy?
Perhaps not, it’s probably wild
But at one time we all were
Wild and unaccustomed to each other

I fully trust Timmy
He can get angry of course
But I see the warning
He lets me know before it’s worse

Even his prey are predictable
I know they eat my vegetables
They never surprise me
They just do what rats do, you see

My other brain is fully switched on
Rethabile wanted to see it switched on,
But I don’t know how long it will last
Whether by Wednesday these thoughts have passed

It tells me to hurt me
It tells me to hate me
It wants to destroy me
Mentally and physically

Scratch out my eyes
Draw blood and bleed
Keep cutting, slicing,
Stabbing, make me bleed

Until the pain is enough
Keep ripping apart
My body, all of it
Tear it apart

Pull out my hair
Beat my head
There is nothing in it
I need to beat my head

Until I’m on the floor
I must beat and beat me
Keep causing pain
Draw blood till I’m drained to the core

I want to tear off my face
Cut off my limbs
Slash my stomach wide open
See the blood gush, everything open

I don’t deserve to be here
I don’t want to be here
Therefore there’s not much point
In keeping me here

People use their time
To sit with an idiot like me
A complete waste and disgrace,
A burden on society

Conclusion..... Ngikathele futhi I am a burden on society..
All society.

Nomkhumbulwa.... disgusted with myself **
82 · Jun 2020
What is wrong with me ???
Nomkhumbulwa Jun 2020
These are hard times for everyone,
But I know my Biology;
Yet I do feel somewhat “odd”,
How can that be?

I have friends in Pimville,
Kliptown, Orlando too;
And although I can use a phone,
Sometimes I don't want to 🙁

Who am I becoming??
What is happening to me?
I have winter clothes now, and food,
And a large adopted family

Why do I now feel so strange?
I can't even explain how;
I kind of feel “less off a person”
Look down on myself….hide as well…

I feel like I've done something wrong,
Yet have no idea what that is;

I hope I haven't upset anyone,
Maybe I have…and just don't know who it is…

I feel like not moving,
Hiding here in this room;
Not because it feels safer,
But so that I can do no harm.

People are so kind and caring,
Then I look at myself;
What is wrong with me??
Why can I not trust myself ?

I feel this general “sadness”
A darkness of sorts in my mind;
But im afraid to blame the depression,
For i feel unworthy of my mind…

Its getting hard to get up,
Though every time I wake how im glad;
Disturbing nightmares all night long,
But I wake up then im tired

I get frustrated sometimes with people,
Those around me, its stupid I know;
I dont want to be a bad person,
But that is what it shows

I dont know what is wrong with me,
But I think I now know the cause;
A massive fear of the unknown,
Going back to Scotland…for the worse?

I will await Silo’s return to work,
He helps me with each phone call;
He has done so much to reassure me,
Yet I feel undeserving of it all.

I don't know whats wrong with me,
I hold my head in shame;
my mind telling me to cut,
That I deserve that pain…

I try to resist it now,
mainly for those around me;
When I do work im with children,
And I don't want them to see

Plus I have Silo to help me,
Assuring me Ive done nothing bad;
That im not a burden on this Country,
And that it is ok to feel “sad”

I know where it comes from,
I know I've repeated this too;
Im worried I don't know myself,
As this period of lockdown about to move…

None of us know whats going on,
We can only be guided by research;
scientists doing their best to provide,
Statistics, clinical trials, the genome sequences..

What is wrong with me?
It was getting better before;
Not before Corona….
Before this dark cloud came to my door.

I was doing everything I could,
Yet now I still feel its not enough;
I feel lazy, ashamed, a burden…
Why am I tired, with no work?!?!

I tell myself perhaps its the cold,
The change in season too;
But deep in my mind I know
The cause….I know its true…

Its Doctor Bryan Hart,
Yes he’s still here in my head,
Silo tries repeatedly to remove him,
And the words he implanted in my head.

He just wont go away,
He took everything from me;
My friends, family, dignity,
Even my sense of sanity.

I still doubt myself daily,
Wondering if any of its true;
I feel I HAVE to find out,
To be able to be free…

Im scared that when I go back
The whole thing will start again,
I will be a burden on society,
A waste of money, time, a nobody

The time is drawing closer,
Although I don't know for sure when;
things are slowly reopening,
Just as they should, this cant go on.

But im scared, I think thats it,
Scared that soon i’ll be back;
In the land where nobody wants me,
A land where nobody trusts me…

Of course I don't want to be selfish,
even thinking this way makes me feel bad;
Im just scared, just scared of the future,
…scared i’ll go back to the past…

I sometimes get darker thoughts too,
But im not wanting to share with you;
I’ll wait, see what Silo says,
I’ll see what he thinks I should do…

I found someone to trust,
Someone in the health sector (!),
I do trust him still….
I’ll await his return and give him a call….

I dont like me……I just don't like me…..
Nomkhumbulwa **
im new sorry

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