Tuesday, August 7, 2012
COMFORTABLY NUMB
after walkin through thorns, feet swollen and bruised from the searchin for the illusive sanity, she lay down in the muddy waters and started to cry - her feet hurt, her heart was about to come out of her mouth from panic, she was finished. She cried silently and wished she didnt have to do it but she knew it had to be done to find relief. So she took the knife and the voices started cheering - she looked at it and it was sharp, she took a deep breath and wiped away her tears - it had to be done, this was the time. She pointed the knife to the sky and whispered "you made me like this, but i choose not to live like this because im dying inside"
At the first incision the knife was cold, she watched as the blood started to trickle down her belly - she pulled the knife out and looked at the blood dripping from it. The second slit was from the bottom up - she was becoming 'comfortably numb' she felt dizzy from looking at the blood. 'Keep going' she told herself. She watched as her guts started to come out of her stomach - bloody hands and bloody knife and at that point - SHE PASSED OUT FROM THE BLEEDING BUT STILL, COMFORTABLY NUMB.......
THE HEALER
we searched rivers wide and oceans deep looking for her
she was the one, the one who would take all the hurt and pain away
do away with the hate and hurt
aah and there she was, yes it was she - the healer
she, who would take it all away - we had found her or better yet she had found us
she was here to save our souls but noone wanted to look at her - let alone listen to what she had to say
she stood on top of the mountain and shouted "we've been programmed, wake up''
we laughed, we were not ready for a saviour, we wanted to stay in our hurt and pain and hate
'hamba!' we shouted. you cannot be the one, the one we are waiting for is still coming
you see, the hearts were still filled with so much hate that it was clouding the judgement but if we had taken time to look hard enough we would have discovered that it was she that we were waiting for, her words and her comfort.
so with our ignorance and foolishness, she turned and walked away and we were to wait another hundred years for her to walk pass again - for she only appeared when days were dark to do what she was made to do, heal.......
SHE LEFT THE TAPS OPEN...
She left the taps open to flood the emotions of confusion
to wash away the sorrow within
her once beautiful skin was looking pale
her big brown eyes were starting to fade
she didnt want to go outside the sun was too bright it wasnt right
she didnt want to look in the mirror, the reflection was too bright it wasnt right
so she stayed indoors, locked the doors and left the taps open to flood the emotions of confusion
to wash away the sorrow within
she didnt want to feel nomore
she hit yesterday's secrets in today's pain
she didnt want people to babysit her emotions nomore
so she stayed indoors and the taps were opened, flooding until they dripped, dripped, dripped.............
LONG LIVE THE ZULU ROCK QUEEN
Njomane kaMgabhi eyaduk'iminyakanyaka, okoko wahamba alukho nolunye oludlulayo ndingakhange ndikucinge. Iimini ngeemini sihleli, sithetha, sithule, sihleka, sikhala, sibulela...Bendisazi ukuba uyahamba ayizanga okommangaliso kodwa ayikho eyayingandilungiselela ukuqhubeka ndingasazukwazi ukubona, ukukujonga ebusweni xa uthethayo. Ndiyazi ukuba usekhona emoyeni ngoba ndihlala nawe mihla yonke kodwa umzimba obuthathaka ufuna okungaphezulu kokubonwa ngumoya.
Sibulela ngesipho somculo....
#Long live The Zulu Rock Queen!!!!
WE LEARNED NOTHING!
.....in a world where silence was applauded and expressiveness frowned upon
we crawled under fear running away from being labeled
we forgot that we owned wisdom beyond comprehension
we submissively nodded and smiled although what we were agreeing to/on made no sense
we cut our own tongues forgetting their importance
we danced with spirits of doom - drunk on ignorance
bowed our heads and followed
forgot that we were leaders from the beginning of time
we allowed fear to infest common sense - it wasnt so common anymore
We learned nothing from the misleading that happened to those who
slaughtered their cows from a teenager's instructons and those who traded them for mirrors
We learned nothing
We sank so deep in this hole of less talk
less debates
less listening
less common sense
to more
mass action - following orders and senseless decisions
We learned nothing
(c) Fezisa Mdibi
Thursday, December 2, 2010
TIME OUT FROM WHAT EXACTLY?
‘I need some time off; I can’t deal with this’ he said with a face that looked so sorry you could swear he has just killed someone.
‘Ok, its fine’ she replied.
‘What do you mean its fine?’ he asked
‘I just mean I hear you, what you want me to say’ she wanted to cry.......
She could not understand what he meant by all of this, time off? Can’t deal with this? This? What is THIS? Just then all the memories of the previous year came rushing back, how she had all so happily packed up her stuff and bid her farewell to South Africa to go and study on a scholarship she had received from the Belgian government. It was a dream come true, she was excited – over the moon infact – it was her first trip overseas and she knew she would make the best of it. BA Journalism hmm, just the sound of it made her smile to herself. Finally she would have a qualification and hold her own with the country’s top journalist, yes, that’s what she wanted to do, be the best journalist South Africa has ever seen. She knew her way around the industry but just needed certification that she could survive the cut throat world. When she got the application for the visa, there was a section where they required all applicants to go through a medical test in order for the visa to be issued. She knew her medical results too well and had no time to look back or to waste so she had gone to her friend who is a doctor and asked her to certify her fit to travel – which she did and off she went to Belgium.
Belgium was a culture shock to her and her mental state, she became aware that she was not at home the minute she jumped off that plane, but it was fine (as she liked saying). ‘It is going be an experience’ she told herself. The registration at the university was a complete nightmare and so was finding accommodation but eventually, she got connected with the other African community around the area which turned out fine. The university was fine; there was a big language barrier but that also she took in her stride. She enjoyed her time and met a lot of interesting people and had fun. But the internal exams were drawing closer and she heard via the other students that the university does another medical to all the foreign students, including an HIV test. She could not sleep that night. ‘Lord, please let it be all a lie’ she prayed that night. There was no ways she could pass a medical test. She thought of home, of how proud they were to see her off to go and study “overseas”. She thought of her mother, how proud she was, her father how he had tried to smile even though you could see the tears when he dropped her off at the airport, her grandmother and how she had prayed and asked the Almighty to guide her and be with her at all times, after all of that she started to cry ‘i can’t lose my scholarship, not after all of this’ she asked and pleaded with God to show her one of his miracles.
The following day was the medical tests day, she was nervous – did not know what to expect from all of it. The forms were handed out to all the students who were in the university clinic to be filled out. There was a check sheet in the front of all the ‘diseases’ they would have to check for:
Cancer, TB, High Blood Pressure, Cholesterol, Bipolar disorder and at the bottom, there it was in capital letters; HIV! She trembled, took the piece of paper and just walked out of that room, what was the use – they would find it and she would be humiliated in front of all the other students and the findings would have to go to the ambassador of South Africa before they kick her out of the country. She had met the ambassador before and was in no mood to deal with her when it came to the matter and to deal with the embarrassment of being told to leave the country. So she took a taxi back to her flat and started packing. ‘It’s no use postponing the inevitable, I’m going to get kicked out anyway’ she told her friend in South Africa over the phone between sobs as she packed all her belongings. She booked a flight for the following morning and called all her new found friends and told them that she had decided to go home, that she could not handle the living arrangements and the culture difference in the country – she lied to them and they believed her. How could she ever tell them the truth? What was the truth? That she was not smart enough to study at their university? She cried all night. The next morning everyone came to see her off, she kept her strength about her, did not even shed a single tear, she pretended to be happy to be going home until she got into the taxi which was taking her to the airport, that is when she broke down. ‘big shot journalist, never going to happen’ she thought to herself. She was going back home without the qualification and she the thought of it made her sob even more. On the plane, she cried so much that one of the hostesses came over to ‘assist’ with whatever problem she might be having “please come and talk to one of us by the cockpit if you would like, you seem like something very big has disturbed you” the hostess said with a sympathetic smile. She just nodded her head, she did not want to speak to anyone about it, she was going home and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. ‘Home, how do I explain this to my parents? My grandmother? Why was life so being so cruel and unfair?’ she could not control her sobbing and did not care about the other people on the plane.
After being at home for 6 months she met him, oh yes him. He was so mature, so gentle, understanding and he made her laugh and made love to her mind. She liked him a lot and he liked her – or so she thought. She had made it a point to be open about her status since she got back from Belgium ‘no use in hiding it because its not going anywhere’ she told her mother one day. When she told him about her status the first thing he asked was ‘how can I help you’ which was so sweet and mature of him, so she thought. The date was the 30th November just a day before World AIDS day. She was itching to disclose her status to help others, so on the 1st of December when she got that call to disclose her status on national radio she thought she had covered all her basics, her family and close friends knew and now her boyfriend also knew so going public would not shock anybody – so she thought. The interview with the radio station went fantastically well it was only that night that the ghost of Belgium came knocking at the door. When the boyfriend came around he seemed distant, confused. Finally he said those dreadful words “we need to talk” and that is where my story begins.
‘Ok, its fine’ she replied.
‘What do you mean its fine?’ he asked
‘I just mean I hear you, what you want me to say’ she wanted to cry.......
She could not understand what he meant by all of this, time off? Can’t deal with this? This? What is THIS? Just then all the memories of the previous year came rushing back, how she had all so happily packed up her stuff and bid her farewell to South Africa to go and study on a scholarship she had received from the Belgian government. It was a dream come true, she was excited – over the moon infact – it was her first trip overseas and she knew she would make the best of it. BA Journalism hmm, just the sound of it made her smile to herself. Finally she would have a qualification and hold her own with the country’s top journalist, yes, that’s what she wanted to do, be the best journalist South Africa has ever seen. She knew her way around the industry but just needed certification that she could survive the cut throat world. When she got the application for the visa, there was a section where they required all applicants to go through a medical test in order for the visa to be issued. She knew her medical results too well and had no time to look back or to waste so she had gone to her friend who is a doctor and asked her to certify her fit to travel – which she did and off she went to Belgium.
Belgium was a culture shock to her and her mental state, she became aware that she was not at home the minute she jumped off that plane, but it was fine (as she liked saying). ‘It is going be an experience’ she told herself. The registration at the university was a complete nightmare and so was finding accommodation but eventually, she got connected with the other African community around the area which turned out fine. The university was fine; there was a big language barrier but that also she took in her stride. She enjoyed her time and met a lot of interesting people and had fun. But the internal exams were drawing closer and she heard via the other students that the university does another medical to all the foreign students, including an HIV test. She could not sleep that night. ‘Lord, please let it be all a lie’ she prayed that night. There was no ways she could pass a medical test. She thought of home, of how proud they were to see her off to go and study “overseas”. She thought of her mother, how proud she was, her father how he had tried to smile even though you could see the tears when he dropped her off at the airport, her grandmother and how she had prayed and asked the Almighty to guide her and be with her at all times, after all of that she started to cry ‘i can’t lose my scholarship, not after all of this’ she asked and pleaded with God to show her one of his miracles.
The following day was the medical tests day, she was nervous – did not know what to expect from all of it. The forms were handed out to all the students who were in the university clinic to be filled out. There was a check sheet in the front of all the ‘diseases’ they would have to check for:
Cancer, TB, High Blood Pressure, Cholesterol, Bipolar disorder and at the bottom, there it was in capital letters; HIV! She trembled, took the piece of paper and just walked out of that room, what was the use – they would find it and she would be humiliated in front of all the other students and the findings would have to go to the ambassador of South Africa before they kick her out of the country. She had met the ambassador before and was in no mood to deal with her when it came to the matter and to deal with the embarrassment of being told to leave the country. So she took a taxi back to her flat and started packing. ‘It’s no use postponing the inevitable, I’m going to get kicked out anyway’ she told her friend in South Africa over the phone between sobs as she packed all her belongings. She booked a flight for the following morning and called all her new found friends and told them that she had decided to go home, that she could not handle the living arrangements and the culture difference in the country – she lied to them and they believed her. How could she ever tell them the truth? What was the truth? That she was not smart enough to study at their university? She cried all night. The next morning everyone came to see her off, she kept her strength about her, did not even shed a single tear, she pretended to be happy to be going home until she got into the taxi which was taking her to the airport, that is when she broke down. ‘big shot journalist, never going to happen’ she thought to herself. She was going back home without the qualification and she the thought of it made her sob even more. On the plane, she cried so much that one of the hostesses came over to ‘assist’ with whatever problem she might be having “please come and talk to one of us by the cockpit if you would like, you seem like something very big has disturbed you” the hostess said with a sympathetic smile. She just nodded her head, she did not want to speak to anyone about it, she was going home and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. ‘Home, how do I explain this to my parents? My grandmother? Why was life so being so cruel and unfair?’ she could not control her sobbing and did not care about the other people on the plane.
After being at home for 6 months she met him, oh yes him. He was so mature, so gentle, understanding and he made her laugh and made love to her mind. She liked him a lot and he liked her – or so she thought. She had made it a point to be open about her status since she got back from Belgium ‘no use in hiding it because its not going anywhere’ she told her mother one day. When she told him about her status the first thing he asked was ‘how can I help you’ which was so sweet and mature of him, so she thought. The date was the 30th November just a day before World AIDS day. She was itching to disclose her status to help others, so on the 1st of December when she got that call to disclose her status on national radio she thought she had covered all her basics, her family and close friends knew and now her boyfriend also knew so going public would not shock anybody – so she thought. The interview with the radio station went fantastically well it was only that night that the ghost of Belgium came knocking at the door. When the boyfriend came around he seemed distant, confused. Finally he said those dreadful words “we need to talk” and that is where my story begins.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Meshelle
Well, ever since he made a 'FOOL OF ME', it's been difficult for me to find 'COMFORT IN ANY wo/MAN'. Though i aint altogether 'BITTER', mainly coz i know he had 'GOOD INTENTIONS'; i feel that i need 'PEACE BEYOND PASSION', 'LOYALTY' & 'SINCERITY'..not just someone physically 'BEAUTIFUL' so i'm 'THANKFUL' that with the 'GRACE' of God, i've got someone who's forever 'FAITHFUL' and one that i can 'TRUST' so we can gracefully sing the 'PLANTATION LULLABIES' and 3 'LOVE SONGS'.....
DEATH WILL COME FIRST......
DEATH WILL COME FIRST......
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