Archive for October 3, 2018


the rains over jo’burg

from google




the rains over jo’burg …





the african rain envelopes all,

shushing the noise and quelling the din,

scalding the skin,

raging inflamed and ablaze,

deep within …



… as fingertips scribble verses on a soft naked back,

as couplets are whispered in ears, stoking the fire,

flesh achingly sweltering, with untamed desire,

the dancing candlelight sweeping across a sensuous body,

the yearning wild, begging for a sweet sensual taste,

of lips to be sipped,

gently at first,

and only later with greedy haste,

as the rains caress jo’burg with the sounds of an unending pitter-patter,

two bodies entwined, hungrily devouring each other,

while savouring the sensations that consumes them all,

in the twilight, amidst the rainbow,

as the soft sunlight takes leave,

and as another dusk over the blazing african skies,

begins to fall …





from google

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awaiting the African rains …

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there is a rustling of leaves, sashaying in a sensual dance of the trees,

an awakening of senses, butterflies fluttering across the plains,

as the thrashing sun is shielded by dark clouds,

filled with the promise of soothing African rains.

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all around is the scent of parched earth, eagerly awaiting the nectar from the skies,

reviving exhausted birds in their nests, knowing the coming downpour shall wash away the detritus of torrid days,

wiping away tears from so many thirsty eyes.

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overwhelmed by the mirth of the expectant grass,

rolling with a hush, on the buds of every flower,

awaiting the life bestowing blessings of a serene summer shower.

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the coming of the African rains, filled with life,

offering a bounty hope for the living beings we share this earth with,

as we all await, patiently,

for the deluge that shall cleanse away all of yesterdays’ strife …

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from google

from google





Sexual-Assault.




What were you wearing?”


How much did you have to drink?


Why did you go to his room?”


and on and on and on and on ad nauseum.




The brutalised woman on trial.


Always.


The violated woman receiving the sideways glances and the murmured whispers.


Always. 


The woman questioned by family and friends and colleagues and the law.


Always.


The woman’s looks sniggered at.


The woman’s weight giggled about. 


Always.


The violated woman torn down and brutalised and shredded more and more by barbed words from disbelieving family and friends and acquaintances and colleagues.


Always.


The woman’s conversation from 30 years ago used as a jackboot to crush her even more.


Why did you say this at the time?.


Why didn’t you tell anyone at the time?.


Why didn’t you seek medical treatment at the time?.


The same questions. 


Always.




Notice who is conspicuous by his absence?


The man.


Always. 


Always the man.







from google

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