individual choice

There’s no man without ancestors.

It only goes down to whether one

wants to worship them or not.


Because it seems an individual choice,

we can’t go on judging those who

aren’t doing praying like we pray.


And the answer to all of that is simple;

we’re men and not God.


And if we’re to act Godly,

we’re supposed to treat those

who are much weaker.

Or, have no supernatural powers

like us.


And the answer to this too is simple;

power corrupts because;

if it wasn’t due to men abusing


People will be free from harm today.



like arab

He wraps his face up with a

cloth to fight heat & sand up.

looks up & holds his stick up.

Birds & cargoes fly by but

the sky is barren.

No thick, dark clouds and

it looks unlikely to pour down.

The insects are having fun

encircling him and his beast.

It’s not just any other beast but,

a desert horse.

The animal can spend days without

having had drank a tot.

The wind is blowing and the merciless

sun chaps his skin.

It’s a pity he has no sun-screen,

even if he had, it’s before the evolution

of man and there are no drug-stores.

Being so, all he has to do now,

is to saddle up and hit the road

like arab.

without fruition

He tells me about how clued I’m not regarding ways

of God,

how I’m walking in the darkness of sin,

and how I’m the only soul who’s going

to burn in hell,

how I’m being influenced by unbelieving souls

who endlessly preach within train carriages

without any fruition.

How God and not the devil unleashes His anger

on us, unbelieving people of this world.

He mentions the misery of Job and how he

got back his wealth but,

forgets to mention how his wife nearly got him

Into trouble with God by telling him in his suffering

how unkind his Lord is.

He goes on and on but forgets to also mention how

Sodom & Gomorrah ceased to exist.

The verses and quotes are endless and though I’ve

no time to read the so-called Good Book,

I’m of God and read whenever time permits.

For the record;

I owe no man.

stupid fun

They say besides I talking a lot,

I review people’s lives and write

a lot.

Besides all that,

I work harder than everyone

and spend the little that I’ve

earned a lot like I earn much money

like they.

They’re even asking for me to give

them my cards pin number so that

they could draw a lot of money

before I spend a lot of it on trivial

things like fashion clothes,

food,cellphones & accessories.

There’s nothing wrong with how

I spend the money that I earned

because I’m the one who toils

While all that they do is spend

their time and money on stupid fun

like buying firecrackers worth thousands

of rands in festive and brag about their

New tea sets and how the mayor is likely

to fulfil their New Year’s Resolutions

by giving them title deeds for their

state-built homes this Summer.

See? nobody’s free.


Being single shouldn’t mean being disrespectful.
Shouldn’t mean one’s longing to be held by anyone
or anything because is left uncuddled.
Shouldn’t mean one is forever look to history for
And it also shouldn’t mean there’s comfort nearby
to look up too.
As there could be some persons around the block,
or somewhere in the jungle whose love would
leave them whole and fulfilled.
And the newness they had put unto their souls will
be evident to men and animals alike.
And when one feels the love,

they all of a sudden find themselves,

attracting good and bad people.
And if or when that happens they must;

sing along to the hymns of a happy choir–

booming from the speakers of your radio, Ipod or Walkman.
Life is a journey and people feeling unloved must,

still talk with others as if their lovers are there in comfort.
They must be comfortable so as,

this world will be able to notice them.

Because if they forever dwell on what they don’t have,
they’ll never find what they’re looking for.


And their sadness shall disturb us from performing our daily chores,

from finding out what’s it that they’re looking for.


And we don’t want to find us in that space.


I rode a taxi with the ghost.

Saw a ghost greet a friend

who looks just like it.

I thought to myself she

must be like Casper

The Friendly Ghost.

A cartoon character with

a white balloon-like body-


I have photos at home I’m

supposed to frame.

It’s just me alone.

No ghost.

And I got learn the hard way.

At township streets there’s

a thing called a ghost.

It’s nothing supernatural but,

just a man hating another man.

Yes! A man hater is called a ghost.

They say one’s life depends on how

it gets treated.

One could wake up naked at the

graveyard or,

It could whisper in one’s ear

And tell one where and how

to get that hidden treasure.

It can show one the place

where it and it’s friends had

been naughty while on earth,

how they evaded police arrest

after having robbed a bank and

how a bank statement meant

nothing to them.

You may wonder why I’m on


I just want to let you know that

I’m because I find it irresistible

at this opportune time.

I’ve tried to ignore the ghost but,

only a fool person could resist

it’s charms.


You come sit next to I

not because you’re bored but,

because you’ve been sent.

And you’re so proud that

you think I won’t notice

what’s it that you’re thinking

with your eyes gazed

and your mouth gape.

I’m not worried about your

investigating skills because

I’ve not only a thing to fear

but, I’m also not indebted to

any man or woman in this world.

But they’re so into me like

I owe them something.

I do owe something.

It’s a hidden fact which I know

too well because they themselves

have proudly said;

get out of here,

we don’t owe you anything.

I wasn’t the first to say a word

to them;

good or bad.

Now they claim to have been

shot at and I’m partly to blame,

they had been mugged early mornings

and I’ve to pay for all their misfortunes

with money or my life.

With money because month ends make

them say stupid things that they later on

regret as month drags on.

With my life because their lifestyles kill

them all.

And if you add lifestyle and money you

get one thing;


Yes! death because any uncontrollable soul

is surely to die trying to rob a store or,

for turning his back on his friends.

I’ve neither friends no stores I’d like to rob.

I know that my written words may or may

not save the day so,

I make sure that I buy all things which I’ll

need in four weeks time.

You know why?

A week has seven days,

a month has four weeks,

a year has fifty two pages.

If I haven’t said all that I’ve to

say to you today on this page;

I’m sorry and I won’t be able

to help you.

Seek counselling at a clinic somewhere.


when purse allows

There’s nothing that makes me crazy

like your writing.

I find myself wanting to be near you,

I find myself wanting to be walking

next to you.

I even find myself wanting to know

more about people living next to you.

How about people leaving close to me?

I don’t care about any of them.

They’ve called the police on me after

I’d slapped one of them loud the other

evening when I thought no witness saw


when in my self indulgent state

I thought I was Lord Almightly and that

nothing on this earth could ever stop me

from being who I’m

who I’ve always been;

a violent person with a scar,

a set of big rabbit teeth of which when

my purse allows,

I’d like to have them fixed.

And don’t you ever forget that every woman

who leaves me is called a tramp not because

she is but, because I’m so scared of the world

that I find it hard to cope with being by myself.

I had to burn a woman’s house to make my feelings

known almost a decade ago because I didn’t want

her seeing other men.

My friends call me an arsonist but I don’t care

because I, like them, we’ll surely burn in hell like

the devil and his satanists.

Do I hear any of you devils say amen?

Well, sure, amen.

we’re finding it hard.

They tell me;

You’ve been listening to people saying

that they love you.

But, deep down in your heart you know that they

do not.

You’ve been in at one of those occult places

of which a lot of people are in but,

aren’t sure that they’re until things get bad enough for

they to be considered for consultation.

It’s like that item that you buy at a shop

only to find out later on after you’d

washed it more than three times,

that it wasn’t worth the money you had spent on.

And the last woman you had your eyes set on,

was the woman you should’ve lost your livelihood on

because she, herself was nothing but an eleven ‘o clock,

tick-talk, set-up.

And we’re finding it hard to advise a person

Who seems not too keen in listening to our advice.

There’s nothing wrong with how you live your life today.

However, we’d like you to stop writing poetry online.

Especially on your blog because it makes us teary when

We remember teachings of our forebearers which we’ve

found intriguingly hard to listen to.

We’re people who think majority should rule in our favour.

Yeah, that’s who we’re!