Behind closed doors

tears are drowning a broken hearted girl,
Wishing none of this could happen
A pain of a grown up man,
makes her heart oozes,pumping the blood filled with despair,
then she remembers that there’s more to life.
Pain comes and go
she need to cherish that tomorrow is a new day.

Behind closed doors
a woman is beaten up
by a man who claims to love her much
Yet he communicate using his hands
Hoping she will understand,
a sense of happiness had been taken away from her
living with a beast that fails to be a good man.
Blaming her for his shortcomings,
taking her to a guilt trip everytime she wants to run away,
Feeling obligated that living with this man will keep him alive.
The love that brought them together had already died.
there’s no hope in living her life in disguise,
Feeding the curious/suspicious mind with lies.
One day the beast will not take away her peace
even her life is at stake.

Behind closed doors
A family dine in deceit,
eating the food filled with shame
secrets fill their drinks,
showing the world a picture of a perfect family,
away form the curious eyes…
they sleep peacefully with their bitterness,
Everyone is in battle.
Armoured with a lack of trust,
moving forward to retain victory,
while their brothers and sisters are left behind.
Luxuries shall grant them affection and compassion.

Behind closed doors
The leader of broken promises
sail beyond the ocean filled with fortune
Exchanging ideas about how to suck the blood from the weak.
Feeding their hunger of greed with poisonous ideas that increases their desires,
Unequal laws shattered their dreams,
waking from a nightmare caused by the existence of the cruel man.
A man who claims to be a good friend,
telling you what you want to hear,
using you to climb high on the ladder,
Laughing behind your back
celebrating his victory without acknowledging your helping hands,
a greedy heart never shared anything with his brother


Special stranger

NB: I wrote this poem as a humble tribute to everyone who had touched my heart and soul through poetry,photography and just showing their utmost appreciation.I am grateful to have such a distance family,though our friendships can be considered strange but to me,it means a lot.Thank You everyone
Maditjhaba which means mother of the nations.
Blowing kisses

How is possible for a stranger to write your own memoir so beautifully?
Unleashing your own character like an old friend.
A shared friendship which moves beyond boundaries,
tied by a strange knot
becoming close to a stranger’s imagination,
making you feel like you are part of the story.
As the story unfold…
you realize that the contract that bids you and the writer has no clause
yet it is entirely legitimate,
You always looking forward to share a conversation with her or him,
though the conversation requires just written words,
the connection grows stronger and stronger
The writer gives you hope…
new meaning of life.

true self

We put ourselves in a carcoon,
hiding our real identity behind the moon,
silently comparing ourselves to our fellow mates,
forgetting that we are not the same.
We possess different talents and interests
Our true nature is only known by us
We carry on our lives in disguise
Pretending and formulated characters will never last
eventually the music played in the background will stop
our true nature will be lost,
eventually the truth will be exposed by the sun
the things we do through the darkness will be brought to light,
Don;t be afraid when your true self ask you why did you live her behind.
No one wears a transparent fabrication
we live our lives according to other people’s expectations.
neglecting our needs…
feeling shameful to be selfish.
Don’t be scared of being yourself
Its better to live with the truth rather than live with lies.

Mama’s love

My mama’s love is like an ocean
an ocean that overflows with care,limitless support and
a precious stone which no one could afford,
Sleepless she is…
forever running to keep the family whole,
solidarity,forever reminding me
reminding me of a place I constantly run to,when I seek refuge.
She refuse to let the cruelty of this world to find a space in our hearts.
Her serenity is known by all
Picks you up when you fall
Her legacy will leave on.
When she’s not around,I get lonely.
She doesn’t get weary of the loads she carries
Mama’s love paints a picture
a picture painted with permanent charcoal
Delicate hands moving,producing a magnificent art piece.
An art piece which is an antique
Mama’s love id threaded with the stories of philosophy,
writings which are timeless.
with the content that makes one to think…
theories hard to understand
She is brave,holding a key to unlock the doors of promises
There she stand…
strong with her argument
seeking justification
Enriching the soul with moral values
a thesis which is plausible
paradoxically untestable.


Gifted hearts combined,
Honoring the nature of art,
Living in a moment.
Exhaling the beauty that runs really deep.
Awakening the lifeless part of the world
giving the hopeless the rebirth of realistic dreams.

Be the soul that admire the man that uses his only hand
to create a wonderful art piece,
Build a new life…
It could be created in various ways
It can be through his music,his painting,his sensual touch
that keeps the body electrified,burning.
Rising your adrenalin without engaging in dangerous activities.

Just by looking at his smile,
Keeps your heart beating
keeps your soul content
keeps your body screaming for his touch.

Together we sing a song of redemption,
make the time stand still
Our eyes looking into each others’ soul.
telling a story which we hardly understand,
yet we go along with the flow.
Fulfilling the intensity buried deep inside our bodies.
waiting to explode,the impatient hearts makes us frustrated.

As we declare our love to each other,
we rest easy without feeling any remorse,
I wonder,if I could search for you through the darkness
Will my heart get satisfied?
Will I behave?
really i do not know.
Now I understand the goodness of being united with a soul
that understand,
Listen and speaks his heart no matter what…

This place

This place will always serve as a reminder of what I’ve been through,
the memories created will be the testimony when the lawyer seek for evidence.
I didn’t mean to burn it down like a repressed thought in my mind.
Carried on like I’d never been there before…
Slowly the scars kept showing as much as I try to hide it.
the sweet aroma of baked cookies will always remain in my senses,
making me feel the warmth,coldness of the wind that blows outside the window.
This place becomes a book written by me,
telling tales of my childhood,
the heartaches I’ve felt…
the challenges I’ve experienced…
All the lesson learnt started from there.
I honor the women who kept the place warm without a fire place.
made it felt inviting even though she had nothing luxurious.
her gentleness,tender love was the most expensive treasure given.
This place is my home…
The first chapters of my life book begins here.
Together we have cried,laughed,fought yet we still stand united
Portraying a lifelong picture that puts a smile on my face,
A picture that resemble unconditional love,peace and happiness.
Surely there is no place like home.

Grandma’s knitting

Looking at those old hands full of wrinkles
Busy going back and forth,
Eyes looking carefully at the movements made by the hands.
Skin looked so pale yet very strong.
The mind visualizing the finished product,
Delightfulness filled her eyes,
combining beautiful colours like her kniteed cardigan.
Slowly examining her choice of pattern,
Realised something appealing will be created.
Created by her hands
Telling a story without no words,
Giving you a sense of comfort
during those long hours she hasnt been there.
Despite the lack of character considered during this fashionable era,
My grandmama’s knitted scarf wil always keep me warm during cold times.
Feeling so honoured to wear such a great piece of art
A pure talent, slowly woven with love
Patiently knitted for its uniqueness.
Its warmth taking away my loneliness,
A skill passed on by the previous generation,
resembling a taste of vintage
Honouring the heart that gave me these beautiful gift,
Holding an undying scent of her fragrance.
I thank you Grandmama…..

Yearning for you

I wish these potent feelings I have for you were mutable,
Suddenly realize they are entrenched deeply in my heart,
As much as I try to mull them thoroughly
I tend to lose my sense of control,
Your preseence exhume what I’ve hidden for so long,
Held myself responsible for all the trouble you brought into my life.
Act modest, just to get by
watched you from the distance
Your sight enchant my soul with fulfilling thoughts.

I can’t hide these for much longer,
Everyday the impact grow stronger,
This moment I’m yearning for you,
can I trust you with my heart?
at the end of the day,you are only human.

Feel like you caught me under a spell
I wish I could turn back time
move on without knowing you in my life,
Hoping one day these yearning would die,
cannot repeat the same mistake twice,
My fragile heart desire something beyong.
How dull I was for showing him my area of weakness,’
I tried to endure the pain in silence
yet the human thought chose to be beyond,
within the depth of desiring-there’s a battle to be lost
seems hard to expunge our memories
A lot can be taken,
Yet I still put my heart on a line while you chose to be far from my sight.

I am what I am

Oh God I thank thee for creating such a beautiful being,
a magical flower that blossom every season,
Dancing shyly in the light spring breeze
Smiling under the brightly shinning sun,
Listening to the music sang by the wind,birds and the moving ocean.
Using my senses to engage with the pure heart of nature,
allowing my mind to take a little adventure.
I got an innate earthquake inside me,
It erupt very gently,giving lustful eyes some occupation
thus could not control themselves, they can’t stop looking.
I could hear them whispering under their breath,
Wishing to explore me as they please…
Wearing a dress that flows so gracefully like a waterfall,
Depicting a wonderful image that resemble natural beauty.
An African pot, that feeds the imaginary hunger,
With eyes that strike like a thunder,
revealing the beautiful desert of Kalahari.
Whoever gave birth to this Princess,
shall rejoice, a pure gold has been extracted form the deepest depth,
hidden by the Creator.
Carefully chosen,
with a voice that spoke so little, eyes telling a different tale,
the mind having so much to say.
Walking firmly as if the earth beneath your feet is never shaken,
Ensuring that your presence is never forgotten,
Leaving an intangible basket filled with love,care and respect.