The struggle, the pain is visible from the lines on the face. The continuous need to be free, clearly narrated by the blisters on the fingers. They came past your space for you to acknowledge, learn and be better a people. The tears did not fall on deaf ears rather on thirsty grounds. When all you live for is the fight for survival in this demo-crazy. Noone is going to listen. Monologues and words live not to tell the tale rather twist the knife and push it further in the back of those who really knew what time it was and still know. What do you require of my sanity? Ngoba noba ungang’bulala ngek’uwathol’amandlami nje, ufuna ngithini? The initial step into the madness showed no thorns but perfectly trimmed roses, maybe that was the plan. Wallow im my misery, convince me that its all worth my while while all i see is broken dreams, memories in shabbles-what the fuck was all of this supposed to be about? Truely, i have lost the plot
I HAD A DREAM….
In the silence of my dreams you kept me company
On this secluded island our minds seem to meet
Intoxicating, overwhelming intensity
You’re the one that I’ve been searching for
No less than anything and something more
Until the end of time I feel a dawn..
Yes it is you
I had a dream it was true
Woke up and realized that you were true
I observe your face so I can sketch
Every corner and every blink of an eye
A reality and joy only you and I know
To place you, take time to rest you on my mind
Ignite you, take time to, and everything in between that we know
To me you read so clearly
It’s like poetry, you’ve got me
With sexy smile, sexy frown
Those frowns, those frowns, do what you do
I had a dream it was true
Woke up and realized that you were true
I observe your face so I can sketch
Every corner and every blink of an eye, I had a dream
You’re the one that I’ve been searching for
No less than anything and something more
Until the end of time I feel a dawn..
Yes it is you
Burn, burn, burn
Down went their squatter camps in the middle of winter… What happened to the children i ask, i wonder-no answer. Burn burn burn, down went their squatter camps while waiting for fallen programmes to materialize… What happens to the children i ask, i wonder-no answer. Burn burn burn, down went their squatter camps.. While endless costly conferences continue-just to swear someone into their cushy post, costly conferences that could build 50 000 low cost houses had the money been redirected mmmh what happens to the children i ask, i wonder- still no answer……. Burnt down were the squatter camps while up up up went the salaries of those who are relevant, while waiting for programmes to jump from paper to action. The party’s parties costing millions while its in the middle of winter – people left out in the cold with stubborn black ink on their thumbs – they made their mark – “your vote is your voice” hehe…. What happens to the little children? I ask i wonder while the squatter camps continue to burn burn burn
Poetry Profile : Fezisa, I have lost the plot,
