(picture by The Word N Sound Company and HeadGear Media)
I’m an artist, who found her voice in the arena of a performing arts Organization
called Youth in Trust that groomed me to towards all my talents of which one of them is Poetry. I grew up in Soweto and began writing in my teens, picturing phrase in different faces at the early age of 16, so I began exploring the facades of different words and what they meant to me. I never knew that someday someone would say “hey, that’s a great piece” until I saw myself through the eyes of my audience they are my greatest motivation. I’m the only artist in my family so I guess that confirms the fact that by living.
My life in the lines of poetry, I’m on the right track. I truly am responding truthfully to my calling the best way I know how. Even though acting was my first love I somehow always find comfort in writing my pains instead of bashing them against the walls and in speaking my hurts. Instead of seeking vengeance in the realms of distraught
_________________
Hi I’m mandi
Self professed druggy
Been drying leaves off this poetree since sweet 16
And smoking it
That’s how I progressed into a poefficient JUNKIE
Who gets high on her own supply
But dead drunk off tears
When poets bleed words that cry
See I had a non verbal communication with the stars
They twinkled in my eyes
All I saw were sparks of my name fly
Twas telepathic
I beamed at their shine
That’s when I was Renowned as their BIRTH CHILD
So if you seek my destiny
Look past pages of the skies
The sun x-rays my biography
By shutting her gaze into night and dimming her light
She knows my thesis is not covered in the shadows of her eye
So she does not pry
She knows my destiny belongs to life beyond the skies…
– End –
SEASON FOR CHILDREN
SHHHHH
SPOKEN SILENCE
SHHHHHH
SPOKEN SILENCE
SHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Speak sister speak
The words you swore never to be spoken
Silence was never golden
Don’t like the doors he battered you against be broken
Sister be open
SPEAK THE SWOLLEN phrase lashed out and bashed into you
For bruises are now tattoos to you
Stitches your attire
LOBOLA was never to HIRE
OH sister OH sister RETIRE
If English to the tongue be a sin
Then speak the language of your skin
Don’t silences till suicide in your home sister speak your saliva to foam
Let your distress erect within me it’ll penetrate
Sister rape me with your tears if my ears show no interest to you FEARS
Speak Sister speak to the best of your ability
SPEAK SISTER SPEAK
HOLD ON TO YOUR DIGNITY HOLD ON
So you can translate images
WHEN THE CHILDREN SPEAK their hieroglyphics into the soil
To reveal illustrations of their souls as it reaps the tragedies
Their lives have sewn
That’s the only education they’ll ever come to know
Seeds of pain are the only grains they’ll ever thrive to grow
Patterns of sadness, the only sketches they’ll ever draw
Stitches of forlorn pictures are the only lessons they’ll learn to pour
Unto their color in books
Mixing all their hues
Imagine that
He colored the son in black?
And her skin in blue
Well he couldn’t see the light through all her bruises
Let the children carve their portraits unto the over cast skies
LISTEN
When nature beckons with mankind
Thunder rains our children’s cries
And dust sighs huh, with the scent of dismissal
If I knew then what I know now
I would have never have cut your umbilical
I would have never have cut your umbilical
I would have refused you, YOU
I WOULD HAVE REFUSED YOU, you
I would’ve imposed sanctions on my contractions
To retract you
To gulp you back into my womb
I would’ve knitted my ripping in two
And sealed it with glue
I would have clogged you
Before I let the world swallow you whole
I would have gurgled and chocked
For you to safely soak in the centre of my placentas cloak
I WOULD HAVE NEVER LET YOU GO
I WOULD HAVE
I WOULD HAVE NEVRE LET YOU GO.
Siblings of sorrows birthed into the slums of this earth
Motherless child whose cries are paved into the gutters
Of this world
I need you to know, if I knew then what I know now
I would have clogged you
Before I let the world swallow you whole
I would have gurgled and chocked
For you to safely soak in the centre of my placentas cloak
I WOULD HAVE NEVER LET YOU GO
I WOULD HAVE
I WOULD HAVE NEVRE LET YOU GO.
– End –
UNEVEN SCORE
When I met him
He was just a single tot
We became a double we mingled on the rocks
Though half empty was the hour of our glass
My affection had already become my boss
I was contracted to my compassion and he was the main clause
He punctuated the flutter of my hearts pleats with a pause
Woooo (wait)
It’s a tug of war between my heart and my jaw
See my ego wouldn’t open the door for it to sweep his floor
SEE it keeps the score
It wasn’t 2all
Twas 2/4
I was the 1 who loved this mother fucken nigga more
When I tightened the slack of my lose draws
He narrowed the poles
He blocked the aim of all my goals
Posted to mail him of my soul
NO NO NO NO
Hang on…..
When I met him
He was just a single tot
We became a double, mingled with rubble beneath his rocks
That’s where BABBY MAMMA DRAMA crept out from
She flocked
And she slid me out of the joys of his cock
That was experienced by sheer default
Here’s how the story unfolds
See I got rained on from head to toe
His house happened to be mm’s up the curb of the road
We tip toed past the meadows of his home guarding the coast,
Whispering footsteps over his manicured lawn
Tiled to the isle of the back side of his dome
Where he ironed the rain drops off the concretes of my clothes
Whilst I coiled in his towel to seal my unpolished floors
For he had never even seen the silver linings clouding my curves
So I too covered those breasts and got dressed over the serviette
He couldn’t believe I was leaving and he ain’t seen nothing yet
So his sneak peak
Had me balancing on the tip of my feet
To measure his leap
And to sway to his lead
The rest of course remains H-I-S-T-O-R-Y
Accept that cherry flavored rubber was oh so heavenly
I used it to erase all those memories
And that’s why
I can’t open my legs again
His penis comes with no strings attached
To my abdomen
His semen’s fertile with the climax of empty promises
So that’s why when he ejaculates I’m faking ORGASMS
His drip is sipped by my dehydrated clits
I’m feeding of whispered nutrients tantalizing sin
we’re locking limbs in the clenches of our arms fists
His fingers suffocating the pulse in my hearts wrists
His groan moaned in bliss as he pissed
I love you to bits
I caught his grin
He wasn’t talking to me he was looking at my tits
I asked for definition the morning after of
what that meant
He said
‘I got caught in the moment, where one night stands open’
He shed 4 skins of his garment, shuffled his polo neck
To soak me wet and drown me so I’m BLINDLY impressed
Being the bait of this vultures prey
Was mechanism for his ego to be fed
Think twice before you’re spread
unto the slices of his bed
Coz when u make love with your heart
his fulfilling fantasies in his head
– End –
Mandisa Vundla,
