equilibrium

men and women of God
wallowing in unbridled materialism
in the sewer of spiritual emptiness
most turning to men and women of gold

in those days of old
he resorted to the whip we are told
an expression of righteous indignation
today these lines are my whip

never will this be a glorification of poverty
the shepherd' staff for a stray sheep
a revulsion for counterfeit money
that journey back to an equilibrium

ON THE ROAD

so you have decided
decided to be on the road
the road to self expression
the road to your own story
the road with many hazards

so you have decided
decided to be on a collision course
with those armed with bitter prescriptions
who will tell you what song to sing
who will label your voice discordant
have you made up your mind

go to malawi and ask jack mapanje
go to mzansi and ask mzwakhe mbuli
ask rushdie of the death penalty
ask chenjerai hove or george mujajati
they may show you the way

so you have decided really
to travel along this road
littered with many pitfalls
this road that may lead to jail
that is if you are lucky
a road that may lead to the morgue

do not say i did not warn you
that they are already salivating
ready to pounce and bring forth
bring forth a deathly silence
let out a socratic laugh and drink hemlock
there you will find your immortality

THEIR WARPED THINKING


today they are at it still
chasing after the whirlwinds
trying to run away from themselves
deaf to the waves of emancipation


still thinking white is right
bleaching the ebony skin
wallowing in murky self rejection
aping the oppressors still


attaching horse hair to their heads
running away from knotted, kinky hair
seeing beauty in pencil thin bodies
rejecting the corpulent afrikan fullness 

forsaken

out of the ten lepers
just one came back
came back to thank the lord
healed of that nagging ailment

that was a son so divine
you don't doubt my immortality
what did i expect
when in the end they crucified him

the story was better with the robbers
the final score was fifty percent
cursed by one, praised by the other
the story got better in the end

the blindness you call sight
shitting and pissing in the well
tomorrow your thirst you quench
quench it at the same well

VEILED EYES

having gobbled the diet
the diet of befuddling religions
having swallowed hook, line and sinker
the gospel of apostasy
now with their warped minds
they denigrate themselves unwittingly
enveloped by the darkness of foolishness

the essence of our ways is warped
labelling our ways ancestral worship
conveniently forgetting they are our intercessors
hacking at the roots of our confidence
defiling all our sacrosanct shrines
but the resilience is plain to see

thoughts in the sewer

the oil and water incompatibility
that is all that remains
the empty egg shell remains
when what matters is gone
gone, never to be retrieved

drowning in this sea of emptiness
living on with fruits of hasty decisions
subsisting on these illusions
rats of regret gnawing the cheese
the masked reality now exposed

volcanic eruptions of suppressed thoughts
the flowing lava aftermaths
trail of destruction everywhere
holding on to these illusions
wallowing in murky melancholy