Hmm, shhh! mantra in progress

In Your ancestral prayer stairs

I’m that shadow in the valley

That green tree

That suckles from your red soil-

Of our birth like I said before,

I am a son of your yellow Azanian love song

But I am just a child in your wise eyes

Staying true to a living reality,

Not too bitter, not so sweet

Just a South African legacy of anti-impotence, sweets,

Because,

I don’t fear death because,

Every time I open my eyes

I would like to leave,

Legendary legacies 

On Jah-earth in excellence.

Without you there's no sunny day

Blueberry my blooming JaH-karanda tree

Purple bumble bee, the strength in your traditional tea

Shines in the smile that blossoms seasonally when you let it sing

Sweet melodies, tantalizing trinkets my heaven

From my Island of Patmos Toweress! Born again exile
Your song is boss in my heart, my heat, my queen, 
My Mahatma Gandhi dream.

For the rose petals in your love orbitals naturally, have a happy Thursday

The psychological balance between the illogical logical  displacement we suffer and the concrete gutter flatters the devil two times with probabilities, two times we will try by way of William Shakespeare to flutter by flow to the music in my mind unwind up to the wind to the stream in your consciousness-train chain of thought vessel, of my park station my braamfontein stream, my maboneng connection, my  constitution on the hill, my new nation on the window sill my jack and jill spring fairytale.

The words  in me in you a sad blue black lable castle ale nice and true beesting beeswing, life over love see-saw my swing my Lucy Lu, my Charlie's angel, aah! blueberry my Angelina Jolie, strues God, Jah is alive in your eyes every time in everything that you say wise money eyes true beat in my heart drum in my soul i smile in your heat sweetness, 

my slow beautiful nice Jill Scott anthem, something like slow walks in the darkness in that safe park in Cape Town, you and me, eye to eye, hand in hand, hip to hip in close quarters like how hip to the hop was natural to you and i my bond my bow tie, just like this and like that i miss the long conversations we have about nothing at all like Lauren Hill's nothing really matters when you are around my Bob Marley's positive vibration, Jah lurv protect us, its a new feeling, a new sign, stir it up my darling, are you picking up?  

Letter to my Revolutionary Woman

How far?
i miss you it says
it would say it a thousand times
but it chooses to say it twice-
i miss you Kgosigadi.

Just as it started it runs out of words
and gets lost in the one feeling
sealed with a kiss
it charts its way to its 
intended destination.

With kinky reggae
in a kinky part of town
playing in the background, now!

Dikgomo di kae Mme-mmatswale?

Remember when we debated whether Khune is better than Meyiwa?

Whether Ronaldo is Pele sorry was Pele reincarnated?

And you said what about Messi?

Do you remember?

When I hit the heart in the heat of your drumbeat.

And the feast in my feet-a travelling beast

Carrying a great mean feat

Black consciousness between  

Lucky Dube's ode to you 

Together as one

Collectively with the I-Threes

I'm in the iron in awe

Ore your man your Lion of Judah

Your superhero- man in a purple blanket

King of your castle my Queen, my Zion.

Numb me drum and you base my bass 

On the rhythm in your blues blueberry

When we are black and merry

We will marry and have a little lamb

A Mercedes Benz 

A Beemer and a Maserati

Just cause Kwena o jele Mma-serati

And I don't know what that means

But kaloku ka Setswana you get me.

Oh my Gosh!

Four, fallen

the Idols

Dome come crawling

Still desert rain

Don’t come calling

Breathe band playing

Everywhere blended wine

Hang over Orlando

Oh my God!

I forgot the lyrics.

Yellow Mellow, my Spar-letta

Before you close your eyes tonight, I want you to know that…

Like slippery fish slipping through my hands

You almost rewrote the lines of our destinies in my palms

It may be too convenient to sound the blame knell in your name,

 in fairness it is my silence that is always lame

cautious in finding the footpaths of your smile in your shadow

it, my silence, let you slip past tentacles within my grasp

the rasp also, that intertwines the crisp harp sound

that strings our future path in soft pink hues beautifully blue and white

and sprinkles red rose petals just like in the movies with grace

concretely makes all explanations seem to matter no more

because it never gave up, nor surrendered with a faint blueish powerless flame

so under our grapevine, secret and sure- my love

I open all my kingdom freedom’s juice and all

To your endless spring rain my empress

with gratitude the looming sun rises

over the landscapes of our love extensions.

Amen.