The aero droans above vacant sky
Clouds have ran away from pretoria
Yet another plane comes from johannesburg
With one man a driver nothing else
It rained yesterday
Taxis collided again killing passengers
Funerals and cakes this weekend
Forget the fake news
We die in life and we live again
Forget tv people they wear fake dreams.
Mandla Mlotshwa
In nineteen eighty-two, we awaited Christmas
A monster left. Another stood to say, “He was…”
And we all shouted: “Santa Claus” for his fair skin.
What we knew not was him sucking our country thin.
Now, left with just the skeleton, we dwell in hope
The king waved us goodbye while slipping down the slope
Breaking the dawn for a golden age at fifty
From whence all we’ll know is bliss and nothing filthy
We’ve left to rot in the tropical rain forest
As our way to give dictacracy heart arrest
Resting our hopes and case so their kind sticks not nose
In this glorious dream of ours that shan’t call for prose
To tell tales of Santa Claus going off his route
And inviting from every scribe’s pen a big pout
But scribbles of lofty smiles with roses brightened
With bobbed national joys on the ranges heightened.
12/18/2009
Passions, humans do express in ways different
Some positions totally indifferent
Some in the aquarium, the gold fish
Freedom deprive and others in their plates relish!
From within my soul I caged a bird
A bird I caged from birth
Making it my everything
When the world turn around to nothing!
Chased out of the window is the dove!
And the tears from my eyes sing for Peace and Love
And query what is to this world left, if the poet
His voice loses and sings not his part in the duet?
Let the tears roll down the cheeks
Let them roll to fill all the creeks
With the poet’s natural glove
He wears for mankind to find that grove.
Being all poets let’s head for the dove
And bring him home, with our heads up above
Up above the mire of blood they would we drowned
In. Poets do ignominy drag down! Down, down, down!
08-09/06/08
Craving and praying for Peace
He does believe in Peace
Not just individual Peace
But world Peace
And wonders how it can be found
Needing no trumpet to sound
Needing no bark from a hound
To leap on board and homeward bound
Finding Peace streaming from conscience
Needing no science
Calling for lots of Patience
But the interment of nescience.
Gently guiding towards her
He shows she is not far
And that like a star
Far from anything scar
She does shine
With rays so fine
Like the sun’s twilight’s decline
The Heart’s desire’s holy shrine.
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