IN MY MIND

IN MY MIND

I woke up in the morning,
I realised, the sun still rising in the East
And it still setting in the West,
And the earth move in movement of rotation.

Suddenly my mind came back to reality,
And there she was “my lovely mother”,
Still dreaming that Dad finally realises,
That he does have an alcohol problem,
And search for help, and wishing that my
Little sister will stop using dangerous drugs,
And bring an end to her paranoid illusion.

She “my lovely mother”
Looks at me, with tears running down,
Tears of blood that have lost hope for the world,
But still standing for GOD, she said nothing to me,
But I heard deep in my mind, her wanting to ask me,
When am I going to wake up?
From this little world of mine,
I had no answer for that question,
But I hope GOD does.

I walk out to there streets,
And again, a Rasta man prophecy words,
That he doesn’t understand,
Poisoning the youth mentality with what he call
The holy plant,
On my left, a preacher making the house of the Lord,
A place of business, heaping off a poor man last cent,
Given hope to a man living in misery,
In front of me the ghetto night club so called shabeen,
Advertising alcohol to a youth that is dying,
Social worker trying to raise a man from darkness to light,
Without the Holy Bible on their hand,
But they seen to be the only one that cares.

ME

ME

I am the untold, unwritten stories
of African dreamers.

I am the story teller,
Not the poet.

I am the unravelled secret
of African philosophic mind.


I am the massager
of the Africans misery.

Me

You wonder!

I am the moon, before sunrise,
I am the sunrise, before sunset,
I am the sunset, before the moon,
damn! I am confused, is it before or after time,
damn I am flipping lost in time.

ME


You wonder!!!

I am not close to the beginning,
but closer to the end.

I am an artist, writing is my art,
I paint my emotions into writing,
but I haven’t paint, my masterpiece yet.

ME

I am is what I describe,
a man with a split mind,
unstructured thoughts.

ME

I don’t know, you decide!

IN THE MORNING

When my dreams excuse my mind,
the sunrise, replacing darkness
with day light.

consciously in my mind, i know
a new day has began,
the city is my war zone,
and life is what i am trying to
gain victory over.

in the morning,
when my alarm o'clock rings
my soul cries for motivation,
and i ask myself, is life worth fighting for?
i wonder.

in the morning,
sitting in the train station,
i see the capitalist man restructuring slavery.

in the morning,
i rate, and i ask myself
why do i keep wake up to this so called life?
Hope, hope, hope!!!!!
unconsciously, i answed myself, that's why.

We are the Ghetto kids

We are the ghetto kids

The kids, who’s so called future
Look “scaring”,
The ones you call “uncivilized”,
The ones you “reject” to be apart of them,
The ones you are “ashamed” of.

We are the ghetto kids,
The “forgotten” youth,
The ones you can see their “misery”
But you still making your
“Illegal” merchandise available to them,
Even though you know you” killing” them,
But you still.

We are the ghetto,
The ones you have “named”,
The architecture of the art,
So called “crime”

We are the ghetto kids
The ones, who you have said,
Adopted the “Black labor”
As their best friends,
The ones who are “dying”
Under a pool table
Inside the ghetto night clubs
So called “shebeens”

We are the ghetto kids
The ones that have been
“Neglected” by their own parents,
The ones who their parents,
You have named them “unfitted parents”,
The ones who their tears never stop running,
The ones you have said,
They have brake the record of “high school drop out”
The ones who are struggling to find “acceptance”
In society, because of where they come from.

We are the ghetto kids
We are the ones, why there must be,
A community development,
politicaly, economically and socialy,
So do not forget about us,

we are the ghetto kids

If there was an African dream

If there was an African dream

What would that be?
peace, freedom, reconciliation,
we all have preach that,
but have we put into practice?

If the was an African dream

What would that be?
to end poverty,
to eliminate the gap
that Capitalism has
created between poor and rich.

If the was African dream

What would that be?
to eliminate all the differences
that separates us,
and focus on the similarities
that brings us together.

What would that be?

to see all the smile back

on my mother's face,
to change the whole meaning,
behind the word “Xenophobia”

If there was an African dream

What would that be?
to stop HIV/AIDS,
from tearing apart the African society,
that’s my African dream,
and I wonder,
what is yours?

Little Sunshine

Little sunshine

I saw her beauty through her eyes,
Her personality shine so bright
Them the sunrise in the morning
During summer time.

Little sunshine,
I have seen her crying,
Love is her greatest weakness,
I have heard her expressing her feeling,
Friendship is what she struggle to have,
I have seen how different she is,
Acceptance is what she is looking for.

Little sunshine
She dreams of nothing, but love,
Loved is what she cries to be,
Love is what she expresses in everything she does,
Love is what makes her who she is.

Little sunshine
You are, who you have chosen to be,
And nothing can ever change that,
But yourself
You are my little sunshine.

Sad Eyes

Sad eyes

Eyes of pain,
Eyes of tormentor
Eyes of distraction

Your eyes took over my heart,
Your eyes have unburied my deepest feeling.

Eyes with undefined colour,
Eyes of betrayal
Your eyes has destroyed talents,
And brought back dreams.

In your eyes I saw the shadows of evil,
Your eyes have built a monster
Of description inside me.

Eyes of revenge,
Oh! Eyes of sadness.