What can't be said should be written, and what can't be written should be simple------> http://cr8vmynd.tumblr.com/
Now you know what needs to be done. (",). Let's do humanity a favour.

CHARGE ME GUILTY!

Late at night, beneath these covers

as the light bulb cools off,

I find myself digging deeper into the mind.

The thoughts,

Piled up like unopened bills dumped in a desk drawer,

Kept for so long beneath the skin,

they break at the edge of it,

I can hear the void in their voices

“set us free!” they scream!

Tapping the deep flowing rhythms of my psyche,

they yearn to take the stairway to Heaven,

the sweet Tango dance on the paper

I can taste the bitter need

The spine shivers,

I need to set them free

But the blossoming elements assert to curb the dream

Stoned, and held hostage by the hands.

Pen confined by the fingers,

deprived of its duty,

just leaving drops of ink behind so they might someday

find a way out.

and you still wonder about the continuous empty pieces of paper…?

So now what’s left of you? You know the story

But need I ask, you already know what needs to be done,

charge me guilty of cruelty, for I am.

TO YOU I WRITE

I wrote this for my roommate. The most wonderful soul! 

[NO HOMO]

I remember walking into the room and seeing your stuff on the other side
and I thought “oh snap, so this is who I get to annoy with my awkwardness for
the rest of my second year??!!... Great!”
But to my surprise, guess who got me in awkward stitches (._.)
I remember the first time I read your piece, stoked and surprised I. was!
And I kept asking for more, and so did the “write and read for each other” become a trend
(even though you couldn’t tell me how whack [MY] lines were)
I remember the monkey morning,
eerr we don’t even need to go into detail with this one :)
I was careless, but so were you
Hence the room was left unlocked most of the time
And none cared (._.)…??
I remember how shy you were to tell me about my necklace
(not that you ever did tell what exactly happened to the poor thing)
But then “chilled” was the motto
“Hacked” was never p-7’s tradition
I remember you stole my cheese….and I stole your All Bran (._.)
And the night of your *munches*…Lol dude you stole my Weet-Bix that night :’D
But a “confession moment” was held right?
We were alien like that
I remember you being and outlet for my you-know-who exhausted “fairy tale”
Yes I did annoy you.
Always riddled with curiosity,
but YOU were never too scared to give straight answers to my *boundless* questions
Too skeptical to bare your soul to the world,
Grief held in check, sorrow contained,
But one could see an aching void inside you.
Buried for so long, pinned and nearly numb,
Riven with INTERNAL conflict
And torn apart by personal doubts.
So now as let myself sink down into my thoughts,
The see of memories:

TO ZETHU SOLAM MACATSHA I WRITE:
Like a tomb stone made of granite,
Engraved in its darkness is a richer dust.
Somewhere in you lies a special wonderful atmosphere
And one of these days, you’ll find an extraordinary sense of peacefulness within its wall.
The air will be fresh. Redolent of dew-laden grass and green growing things (and maybe NOT *the green things* (",)
You’ll get to the core of your being, the centre of your psyche
And there, you will find hidden resources, a strength that has ALWAYS existed in you.
Like growing lilacs, bursting with green leaves and white buds,
You will be in full flower.
But sometimes none can help us, we have to find courage ourselves.
One woman holds the key to your soul. YOU!
Now smile (",) for you have managed to go on living for 20 years!!! (",)
You have a good heart zethu.
Unaware, but YOU are a  boxed set, a gift item.
HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY ROOMIE (",)
Go forth child and [God] bless you.
I do miss you [and the rest is still unwritten]
WORD!

FORBIDEN BY THE SPIRITS OF SLAVERY!

Day fairly clear, showing patches of blue.
The weeping mother kneels down in misery.
The male figure has his eyes wide open. Fist clenched.
Anger written all over his face! Eyes brury with fury.
I lurch from one emotion to another.
Oh how i wish he'd look at her with a positive eye that forgets about power.
How i wish he'd hear the thought jumping into the mind like a fish on to a hook 'she's no kitchen tools or baby maker.'
How i wish he'd realise the true refuge of a woman.
A husband who can embrace her.
She might not glitter like gold, but she's a true seed of humanity.
Left with eternal wounds in the house, crying won't help now for he is gone! lord knows where.
It's hard to think of what to face when each day brings surprises and misery. No certainty.
Crashed into ruins. She dusts herself off and stands up with 'dignity',
but nothing will ever be the same.
However, breaking away from those chains that hold her tight to his love seems almost impossible.
But why must she suffer forever in the hands of the loved one?
when the one she loves can set his fierce gun open
why won't she break free in the land of justice and liberty?
Woman: it is better to die of solitude than to die gradually from a wounded pride!

WORDS NEVER SAID!

There seems to pass some…years of happiness and prosperity,

but beneath the smile lies hideous and dark clouds of shame and agony,

yet [HE], the greatest of man claims to suffer more than he,

bearing the weight of [ALL].

He weeps as he tries to believe these words.

They sound silly and gibberish, yet oddly true.

However, effortless questions come tumbling out like a key had opened its lock.

“FOR HOW LONG”…how could such three simply words constitute this much pain?

Words like nails, nailing him in his coffin.

The pain twists in his stomach like a knife, a serrated knife, rusty and ragged.

“Ouch” would be an understatement.

Searing agony in his eyes,

Once dark brown, they burn in their sockets.

His fingers scrape against his skin as if to rip it off.

 A tear drops, the paper turns red as he tries to analyse and translate his own TRAGEDY

To uncover the never fading dark spots… Still no success.

In his mind, he has found a proper place for drama. His OWN theatre.

He doesn’t need actors or stage,

nor a dressing room and certainly no need for the audience for he is his OWN audience.

A random disjointed voice tells him to throw in the towel, but guilt.

It comes like the cold of the winter, leaving dark cloths of blood.

The best friend offers his hand as he comprehends the pain.

He has seen him on his knees, like a slave at the foot of the master,

with a face of a man as if he were burning at stake.

He has held his hands in assurance for support

They have prayed and cried together.

STILL, the friend KNOWS NOT the anguish

There lies a huge difference between KNOWING and UNDERSTANDING

At least, that’s what he thinks.

Maybe none can be called happy until that day when they carry their own happiness down their grave in peace, HE THINKS

But what if these tears clean the windows of his soul

What if this pain conceives something good after all?

And what if strength is all there is in this weakness? Only if he could just stop running away,

but how he could not, when he finds happiness in it.

When every time he extends his courtesy, he brings a smile on ones face

When there lies a spark of hope in his laughing and talking.

[Talk, lough, talk and lough a bit more and lough lough lough]

 At least such brings him happiness.

 Maybe as a person set apart,

A suffer in whom others seem to find redemption,

Then maybe a special and wonderful end is reserved for him

Yeah, an ending without grief or agony,

An ending more marvellous than that of any other man.

Maybe there is light and healing in this wrenchness after all

Maybe this agony is yet to be resigned by long endurance

Maybe someday everything will make perfect sense. So for now, I’ll laugh at the confusion, smile through these tears and keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason

He STILL hopes.

The "end-of-the-world prophecy group"

This is sad…so Johannes Coetzee (the local leader of the end-of-the-world prophecy group) burst into tears at a press conference held in Nelspruit, Mpumalanga yesterday, when asked about how he got his “dooming day” date wrong. The guy literally cried, apologising to all the citizens for misinterpreting the Bible and I quote “we are spiritual prostitutes. We sinned by confusing people”. BUT despite that, the guy keeps on insisting that on the 21^st of October, sulphur and fire will “definitely” destroy the world. Poor guys, clearly ignorance and negligence knows no bounds with this “prophecy” group.

Do they ever learn from being wrong all the time or is there some kind of a book they are using besides the Bible? I mean from May 21 to October 21, what’s next?  December 21?!. Where does this hirngespinst come from? It’s actually sad ‘coz some people abandoned their families and quit their jobs that day, “anticipating” Jesus. How sad!

Are they that ignorant of the Bible or are they so unhappy about their earthly existence? (Not to mention the damage of this hubris). Dude nothing is gonna happen on the 21^st of October, the world will just go on as normal. Yes maybe there will be some volcanic eruptions here and there (like the one in Iceland that’s prohibiting planes from flying), but surely not this “doomsday tale”. Yes the future is uncertain, but if people knew their Bibles, they would know this: “NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT THAT DAY OR HOUR, NOT EVEN THE ANGELS IN HEAVEN, NOR THE SON BUT ONLY THE FATHER”, MARK 13:32

“We were wrong about two things, the earthquakes and predictions that Christians would ascend into heaven”. Yes these are the signs of the end of age (Matthew 24:1) (ok exclude the “Christians ascending into heaven” part), but these “assumptions” need to come to an end now ‘coz NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT THE RETURN OF THE ALMIGHTY, BUT ALL WE HAVE TO DO IS TO KEEP “WATCH” AND IF HE DOES COME SUDDENLY, DON’T LET HIM FIND YOU SLEEPING (Matthew 13:35)...READ YOUR BIBLES!

THERE'S HOPE!

I often find a bitter humour in reality

These times are so uncertain, with people filled with rage, hypocrisy, resentment and judgement. It troubles my mortal soul to realise that we still consider ourselves as “WE” and “US”. Why we gotta use ABSURD stereotypes to define each other? .....but then there’s hope, that one day we will ignore our differences and insecurities and fly with wings of forgiveness ‘cause our only goal is to survive against such unbeatable odds.

Every time I turn on the TV, I see the government that keeps on lying, too much hypocrisy. They put on white hats and call themselves saints. Pride and private competition can’t fill these empty hearts. Empty promises don’t keep us warm. But as citizens we gotta keep on surviving ‘coz hope is the beam of light that shines through the darkness. This is just our temporary stop, one day it will be our past.

I sometimes curse who ever invented education, I mean I barely sleep here, guess I’ll do so when I’m dead. This thing isn’t easy I tell you, BUT you know what, hope is a place uncharted. I’ve reached this far and I intend to never give up. “Faith makes us sure of what we hope for and certain of what we don’t see”-Hebrew 11:1. Nothing in life is to be won without trying, strength of the body, and vigour of soul.

I’d like to share some few words from my favourite band switchfoot “I dare you to move, I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor like today never happened, maybe redemption has stories to tell, maybe forgiveness is right where you fell, where can you run to escape from yourself? Where you gonna go? Salvation is here, i dare you to move”.

Look, life is all about your perception. You gotta keep shooting, keep running, keep raging, keep fighting, keep punching, and ignore the pain and blood on your knuckles ‘coz THERE’S HOPE, we have to make it to the end and I assure you, you can accomplish anything.

once again,, welcome to existence