Archive for December, 2017

for women everywhere

for women everywhere …

they said she was opinionated.

they castigated her for not following the norm.

they dismissed her for being “loud-mouthed”.

they spoke disparagingly of her for flouting cultural, religious, sectarian narrow-minded claptrap.

they damned her for unclipping her wings, as she soared free into the open skies.

she is you.

and may you always be you …

serenading the glistening rose,

a solitary tear of dew,


caressed by the lilting of rustling leaves,

enveloping dawn,

to gentle birdcalls …

new year kisses

tangerine kisses,

beneath marshmallow skies,

ignite the kindling, the tinder,

crackling, inflamed, ablaze,

hushing cacophonous day, scattering night’s haze …

the swaying of the grass, as another year flees …




a path leads,

to where wild grasses grow,

sashaying in the summer breeze.




along the path,

lightness settles within,

feeling the grass,


tickling ankles,

swaying to lilting bird-song,

a dance of intimate abandon,

brushing remnants of pain away.




melodies float across fields of green,

delicately caressing my heart,

teasing emptiness to flee,

comforting the mind,

to silently be.




walking on,

savouring the peace,

a momentary respite,

casting off burdens of the now,

all is quiet,

a stillness cradling fractured emotions,

the grass in the fields sway,

dusk descends,

shadows lengthen,

nudging dimming light to take leave of the day … … …

a wish for you

a wish for you … …

May your smile never fade,

may you always be as you are now,

warm and kind,

true and filled with the generosity of spirit that defines you,

may your dreams soar into the boundless open skies,

and may the benevolent fingertips of time and of fate,

brush away any tears that should fall from your gentlest eyes.

May you forever stand tall,

may your head always be held high,

with stoic dignity.

May your past experiences be the stepping-stones that mark your path ahead,

may your heart be your guide,

your blazing beacon of wildly enthusiastic hope,

may your wishes be simple,

and may they come to be,

filling your life and your moments,

with joyous bliss,

where you truly feel free.

Free of the weight of yesterday,

free of gnawing doubt,

and may your being be infused,

with the softest serendipity,

so that you may spread your arms,

and to the heavens shout,

I am free,

I am me,

at long last,

I am standing tall,

never again to bow,

or to fall on bended knee.

This is a wish both simple yet elusive,

a wish that only you can make true,

by simply being,

the kind,


gentle person,

that is you …

she is my all,

picking me up whenever I fall,

walking beside me, fierce and tall,

unafraid pain may yet befall.

my all, my strident constant, breathing away aches in an instant.

she is my all.

she is all.

My Christmas bipolar Haze

My Christmas bipolar Haze … …

watching the stars fall,


scorching these nights,

the manic days,


yet she remains,

a constant,

a bulwark,

an anchor,

in my bipolar haze …

( merry Christmas to all )

lying together,

enveloped in each others arms,

we swore oaths to the stars and the years yet to unfold,

lying together …

years of war

as another year flees, soaked scarlet by war, choked by the famished cries of the baby, torn by the screeching of hate, adulterated by the politics of intolerance, bruised by gender-based violence, shaming humanity by female genital mutilation, ripping our souls out by wanton greed, trashing our world with mountains of waste, scarring our planet with the oblivious ignorance of climate change, hacking us, binding us with the knots of intolerable pain,

and so, may the coming year be less violent, and more equitable to all.

idealistic claptrap? yes, I know, I know …

but at times like these hope is all that I know I  know …

alone, i swim

alone, I swim, thrashed by the tides, while high above me a solitary albatross glides.

alone no more, soothing me to my very core,

i hope for days and nights far more placid than those that have passed before …

the rose and the dew

the rose and the dew …

soothing dew of the dawn, teases the rose in the mist of new morn,

nourishing the rose, encased in a dewy sheath, drops of soothing dew tease tendrils of each leaf,

soothing flowers, the dew banishes the night, in soft hues of exquisite early light:

you are the dew to my solitary leaf, seducing my soul with loving belief,

and I, I revel in the balm of your solace, shunning the pain of this world, with welcome relief … … …

bidding another year adieu …

and when i see,

breathe her, her softness a whisper away,

she knows the ache, i fear,

of wanting,

needing perhaps,

the feeling of feeling dear,

not much, 

soothing warmth,


our warmth, a light autumn shawl,

her fingers, mine,

tracing sketches, scribbles,

our waltzing fingers entwined,

shedding this year that wasn’t, or hardly was at all,

like so, so many yesteryears,

now long passed,

quietly, threading catacombs crumbling into dust,

gently, reverently, 

laying it down, leaving it all far, far behind,

a few shared moments,

of gentleness, warmth, solace,

of pure, innocent, delicious, alluring promise of bliss,

so rare, 

            priceless, almost,



            too rare to find …

a new year beckons

a new year beckons, thus a scribble on treading onwards …

we have been hurt,

battered by time,

by fate,

we have been stung,

by harsh tongues wagging,





                         harsh tirades borne, colder words, mere words,


meant to jab,



                 until spirits are torn,


                        broken …

… still,

           we endure,


           we hope,


      we may be lashed against fates’ ropes,


           we endure,

we cling on,

                     to dreams,

                     and to shared hopes,


we shall rise, staggering perhaps,

                but standing,

                never kneeling,

however painful,


times may be,

for we shall stand,



you are with each other,

offering each other,

that helpful, comforting hand … …

new year

on repetition: new years day …

the years have chased,


time has a-rambled & a-rolled, 

just another year,

where loves’ wares,

love, the commodity,

and us, all of us,

mere commodities,

traded as futures,

hastily stitching gaping wounds, with superficially strong sutures,

add some smiles bought and sold,

dignity bartered,

amalgamated, merged, lost & battered,

thin skins moulting,

spawning breathing thicker skins,

just another year,

same dreams to be shattered,

no bleating hip-hip-hoorays,

just the ever-fixed smile,

bright teeth bared as hands morph into machetes, hacking,

gleefully as the beast slays,

and while some burn, the fireworks elicit oohs, many an aah,

with kafka in the shadows, shaking his head,

this is farce gone too far,

to dampen the collective hope,

not more crumbled platitudes,

meant only to soothe, to apply the balm, to help the other half cope,

with what,

just another year,

reborn, the umbilical cord cut,

just another year,

working, eating, buying, buying,

as we scamper ever on,

with our eyes sewn tightly shut

won’t you ?

won’t you … ?

allow me to take your hand in mine, fingers kneading, knotted, wrinkled, from teasing out too many a paltry rhyme, somewhat scarred from the scraping of passing time.

we may walk a while, distilling the essence of love, far away from this time, hand in hand, epochs away from the polythene grandstand.

we have seen so much, seen it all it sometimes feels, holding on to sanity, just barely grasping onto a filament of hope, when all seemed bleak, when life splintered and felt far too much to cope.

won’t you let me take your hand in mine, far beyond mere words, long past mouthed vows, sharing the silence of weary travellers, who may have seen so much before, and yet persist, hoping, always hoping for a kernel of substance at the core.

won’t you take my hand in yours, it’s yours to take and to hold, away from this bazaar where feelings are traded as commodities, bargained over, casually bought, and callously sold.

we shall share pristine moments, shutting out the passing parade, fleeing from the boulevards of excess, as far away from the fickle charade.

won’t you take my hand in yours, allowing me to take yours in mine, knowing the pathway may be littered with nettles, and knowing this too, that we will always have each other, when the storms pass, when the dust settles.

won’t you ?

misty tears fall on splintered parchment

history simmers

the shackles of centuries cast off

the chains of oppression shattered

embracing new horizons



trusting once again

in that unfinished dream

of less famished tomorrows …

breaths drawn,

echo across fields of green …

a plaintive song,

teasing the grass,

paths once walked,

hand in hand,

now burning highways,

of cold stone, dead concrete,

yearning for bygone days,

walking, together,

on your jacaranda carpeted street …

i lost my way

i lost my way, on avenues of promise, 

i built walls, on fragile grounds of loss,

you reached in, picking me up, as I lay strewn amidst the detritus,

you turned to me, and i to you,

fortifying our core, us together,


that is the talisman that keeps on keeping us true …

why him ?

why, they ask her,

why him?

she always says the

day we met,

and spoke.

and laughed.

she felt,

all she needed to be

was herself 

leaving ink behind

Leaving Ink Behind …

when i leave my ink behind, ever searching for slivers of hope in the shape of a rhyme,

i breathe, i live, feeling sorrow slip through my fingers,

because scribbling for you is where the peace lies, the peace so elusive to find … …

kindred spirits … …

the whispers of fate,

the slight tugging of destiny,

the murmurs of truth,

effortlessly caress desolate hearts when kindred spirits meet.

a whisper here, a nudge there, a fragile breeze weaves the magic of dreams yet to be dreamed, of tomorrows yet to be savoured, of gentleness yet to be felt.

words may only express a scintilla of feelings kept carefully wrapped beneath layers of emotion,

those that remain unspoken envelope the thirsty heart yearning for union.

and then all at once,

the rustling of the leaves,

the touch of the breeze,

the swaying of the grass,

the coaxing of time, 


into one being …

you …

o u r  f i n g e r s

 … our fingers,


walking away,

from the din of the day,

embracing the solitude of night,

with you in my arms,

dreams ablaze,

soaring into effervescent flight,

touching you, feeling you,

tasting you, consumed,

raging desire,

thrashed against the cliffs,

of pitiless fate,

in-between the engulfing waves,

gulping for a breathful of you,

all of you,

irresistibly true …

serenading the glistening rose,

a solitary tear of dew,

falls …

caressed by the lilting of rustling leaves,

enveloping dawn,

to gentle birdcalls …

i d e n t i t y ?

i d e n t i t y  ?


scattered beings,

unlike trees,

tentacled roots,

firmly entrenched,

in this earth,

we walk alongside trees,

embroiled in turmoil,

we hate, waging wars,

we discriminate:







rootless, we flounder,

racing through lives,

rootless, unencumbered,

seeking a home,

eternal exiles, uprooted,


skidding, smiling,

killing, proselytising,

inured by dogma,

anaesthetised with learned prejudice,

basking in the illusion, that we, us, i am surefooted,

yet remaining exiles,

all, together,

bound together by gravity, unable to soar into boundless skies,

tearing each other apart,

unafraid, surefooted,

my country right or wrong,

my religion the only one,

my culture the best,

my tradition superior to all the rest,

my book the word of god,

smugly uprooted,

unlike trees,

deeply rooted,

fanning out like banyans, free,

not us,

paying dues, settling scores, doling out fees,



meandering through bylanes of isolation,

smug, arrogant,

assuredly surefooted,

in the only truth of my culture, my tradition, my race, my people, my religion,

my god,

have we forgotten the trees,

chopped down,

without sorrow,


once firmly rooted,

now flotsam, jetsam,

like i, you, him, her, us and them,

uprooted, snuffed out,

dragging along dead wood,

pompously preaching the rootedness,

of culture,

of tradition,

of race and of religion,

while we remain,

exiles all, blasé and smugly surefooted,

sowing division,

waving flags,


my country right or wrong,

ignoring the lesson of the trees,

of what it really means to be firmly rooted,

posturing instead, ideological fantasies, religious fancies:

i am right,

and thusly so,

you are all very wrong … 

deciphering silence …

you and i

shielded by silence

barred from ourselves

insured against feelings

exiled hearts

building ramparts

a berlin wall

that may fall

so my friend

lay your head

upon my chest

and let my fingers

run through your hair

lulling you gently

to rest

life is far too short anyway

to squander even a day

so rest

my friend


and lay your head

upon my chest …

the road

the road …

how far does this road go, this path of life, these alleyways, these avenues woven as days, weeks, months and years crumble,

leaving us, at times upright, at times staggering as we waywardly stumble.

where does this road lead to, scrambling over boulders of pained time, helplessly flailing across the unknown distance still to be tread,

looking ahead, with no map, no sense of hope nor dread, yet oblivious to the many needles of passageways yet to be thread.

when does this journey of splintered hearts and fractured souls end, with us healing many times over, scrambling around at times in the dark, knowing not what lies beyond the next bend.

whom do we choose to venture along these boulevards, hand in hand, who are the fortunate ones who have another to hold, to gaze at sunsets, as together they lovingly stand.

why do i feel stranded, as if washed up on a desolate beach, walking amongst the throng, yet with that deeper connection always just out of reach.

why do i lose myself in the cacophonous crowd, my words dissipating in the wind, my verses becoming my only shroud.

why do i walk away when joy and peace and love is within my grasp, when our fingers are entwined, when onto hope we firmly clasp.

these questions billow through the misty haze of moments that slip away, in-between honeydew kisses,  smouldering in the cauldron of desire, fleeting smiles turned to ashes by the indiscriminate fire.

these questions jabbing at the core, immersed in rivulets of tears, seeking answers about this entire parade, is it all real, or is it merely a meaningless charade.

the questions come thick and fast, assaulting the senses as one tries to make sense, of love lost, of wounds still raw, of pain, of sorrow, and of seemingly unending strife.

the answer appears, blanketing the sun, cloaking the moon, an answer so simple, yet with profundity rife.

the answer:

this is life …

i love her …


she found me, as torrents raged around me,

she found me, when my wings were shattered,

she found me, when i was desolately crawling,

she found me, in the depths of despair,

she found me, trapped in the quagmire,

she found me.


she reached down, her hand extended,

she pulled me out of, the lair of emptiness,

she helped me stand, after my legs had been battered,

she fed me, nourishing my soul,

she led me, into pastures green and alive,

she held me, in the cocoon of her embrace.


i was not worthy, of her delicate touch,

i was not worthy, lying in a discarded alleyway,

i was not worthy, of her healing embrace,

i was not worthy, of her tender love,

i was not worthy then, i am not worthy now,

i had nothing, and still have nothing to give,

still, she loved me, and loves me still …

i wish i met you earlier

“I wish I had met you earlier”, I told her one day.

“Why?”, she asked.

“I don’t know”, I said, “though I feel we should have met when we were younger, with none of the ties that now bind us forever apart, and when the future was but a fresh page”.

“A fresh page?”, she asked.

“A fresh page, a blank slate, for who knows what could have been”, I replied, “Yes, and perhaps our destiny would have been a shared one”, I ventured further, “a blank slate, yes, where we might have been woven together, by the hand of fate”.

“I wish I had met you earlier”, I still say …

For Comrade Laloo ‘Isu’ Chiba. 

(1930 – 2017)

A giant has passed.

This cannot be a tribute, for no words will ever do justice to you, comrade and husband, father and brother, the truest son of the soil.

You spent 18 years on that rock of infamy, together with your comrades, your sacrifice cannot be put into words.

Your complete dedication to the cause of freedom and of human emancipation is an eternal example of your commitment to the battle, to the struggle, to the fight you fought with all of your being, with your unyielding principles and values, against the abhorrent and criminal system of Apartheid.

You made a conscious decision when you were a young man to take up arms against the brutality of racial segregation and injustice.

You nurtured the principles of internationalism and justice for all people, an example for us who remain, to never bend and to never bow, to never be cowed by power and injustice.

Your life and the example of your life is testament to the heights that human beings can attain, by standing tall in the face of callous savagery by a foe that wielded its power to dehumanise a people.

You and your fellow comrades-in-arms ignited the flames of resistance, your bravery, your courage, your indomitable will a living example of how the edifice of tyranny can be razed to the ground.

Your sacrifice, as a husband, as a father, as a brother, as a grandfather cannot be overstated.

It is often said that people give their all, and your life exemplifies this more than words could ever convey, for you were truly selfless in the very essence of the word.

Your selflessness, your comradely spirit that flowed through your veins, your love for humanity, your vast intellect, your entire life cannot be celebrated in a few words.

Your life, your example, transcends all words.

Now that you have passed on, the truest celebration of your life can only be achieved by picking up the standard, by seizing your baton to continue to work for all that you have taught us, and to honour and imbibe the raging fire that your remarkable life taught us, and shall always continue to teach us.

This cannot be a tribute, for no words will ever do justice to you, Comrade Isu, but the flame that burned so bright within you, the flame of justice for all, for a united people devoid of tribal, religious, sectarian and class divisions must be and shall be a shining reminder of what we as a people, united in a common cause, can achieve.

You may have passed, but the powerful example of your life lives on, and must live on, if we are to truly honour you and the sacrifices that you and your fellow comrades made, by giving your all in the service of humanity.

A giant has passed, yes, but the giant shall remain hewn in our collective consciousness.

Your flame shall never diminish, Comrade Laloo ‘Isu’ Chiba.

You may have passed, yet you shall continue to live within us all.

May your soul rest in peace.

Hamba Kahle, Qhawe lamaqhawe!

Long live the spirit of Comrade Isu Chiba!

The Struggle Continues!


for women everywhere

for women everywhere …

they said she was opinionated.

they castigated her for not following the norm.

they dismissed her for being “loud-mouthed”.

they spoke disparagingly of her for flouting cultural, religious, sectarian narrow-minded claptrap.

they damned her for unclipping her wings, as she soared free into the open skies.

she is you.

and may you always be you …

walking …

we walked, silently.

the only sound being the lapping of the waves.

we walked in silence.

at long last.

after a lifetime of words.

we embraced the stillness of having to say nothing at all …

standing up again

on thorny paths we scramble, we crawl, ever struggling to rise, to stand tall,

while all the while the machinations of destiny, of fate,

cut our feet, leaving us trembling as we so often trip, slashing our hopes,

yet we forge ahead with hope,

embedded deep,

so that we may stand up again,

however often we fall …

smile“, she said with a wink.

I smiled.

I still am …

love blah-de-blah

love blah-de-blah …

the essence of your soul,


in a drop of pure rainwater,

an equilibrium,

the celestial gyrations of intersoular desires,


essential elements drawn mystically together,

the quantum realms of loves past and emotions lost,

memories like cigarette burns,


at first,





and crash

like splintering cutglasss,

in every universe

ever inhabited,

in each drop

of every tear,

falling to the living earth,

absorbing the spirits of past bygones,

karmic destiny,

predestined theatre,

who’s left to tell ?

but yourself.

gently subtly soothingly

cleansing your mind, 

at rest

at long last.

having found the truth

within you,

a truth that seemed so distant once,

so elusive,

yet that always 

resided within you,


embedded so


always remaining 

so perenially


and eternally so,

so very true …

hopeful thoughts …


howls of hate










yes us all

may still



gentler fate
but only if


yes us all


and then

when peace is what we all shall wage

we may then
and only then

begin to scribble afresh






fresh page …

do you dream of me ?

do you dream of me ?

do you dream of me

as i do of you,

on sunkissed sands,

under skies of free blue,

where pain is forever banished inside a seashell,

and tomorrow no longer threatens the fires of hell.

do you dream of me,

as i do of you,

where this daily charade means something,

less showy,

and …

more true …

too idealistic ?

in this world so harsh and stark,

may we be the spark that dispels the dark.

may we hold onto each other in a warm embrace,

regardless of colour, creed, gender, or race.

may we accept that we sip from a single pond,

may we acknowledge that the spirit of uBuntu* envelopes us – in a unifying bond.

may we cherish this bounteous earth, our only home, with respect and kindness,

may we open our eyes,

and resist greed-filled corporate, personal, and governmental blindness.

may we love all, 

irrespective of who they choose to love, gay or straight,

may we accept that ignorance breeds hate, so may we banish those forces, baying at the gate.

may we teach our young that the objectification of women is not right,

may we strive to make every night, an abuse-free night.

may we face all forms of prejudice with a united stand,

may we find renewed strength by clasping a strangers hand.

may we realise that there is no place, on this planet,

 for poverty, hunger, and human despair,

may we appreciate that this world has enough for all, to from the communal orchards share.

may we start by introspection, by tearing off the blinkers of denial,

may we pursue to change that which is callous within us, even though that may be our hardest, personal trial.

may we tear down the walls that are built to divide,

may we emerge into the open fresh air,

with no longer the need to hide.


* – ‘uBuntu’ is an isiXhosa/isiZulu concept that espouses “the belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity” – I am because we are.

in your eyes

in your eyes … … …


As another day recedes,

enveloped under the shawl of night,
allow me to drown,

in your eyes.

Moments fleeting,

fickle hands of time unseeing,
allow me to seek solace,

in your eyes.

The trodden path littered with each shard,

regrets this heart wishes to discard,

so allow me to seek refuge,

in your eyes.

i have walked through twisting boulevards of life,

seeking simple joy, away from desolation, strife,

so allow me to find peace,

in your eyes.


In your eyes,

i find,

the gentleness left behind,

away from superficial smiles,

away from fatigue of the walked mile.

In your eyes,

i feel,

at home at long last,

your love caressing away the restlessness of the past,

stepping out of the shadows to embrace pure contentment,

though a bit player,
in your life’s theatrical cast.

In your eyes,

i touch,

the flame of promise radiating through your loving light,

that is why,

i no longer dread,

the vacuum of encroaching night … … …

your soul

rain sweeps away tears, dispelling hidden fears, across this bleak night, with hope just out of sight,

and yet my heart glows, enveloping me warm and tight,

bathed in the exuberant radiance of your soul’s gentle light.


her moist eyes met mine,

weaving like twisting twine,

we laughed off the years of our tangled past,

as we smiled at those still to be passed …

tangerine dreams

tangerine kisses, beneath marshmallow skies,

ignite the kindling, the tinder,

crackling, inflamed, ablaze,

hushing cacophonous day,

scattering night’s haze …

%d bloggers like this: