Mama’s love

I’m not sure there’s anything deeper than this love

The kind of forgiving love

The stand-by-your-side-through-thick-and-thin kind of love

The love that can move mountains and hearts all the same

The look of happiness, faith, peace and pride – all in one

A Mama’s love

Runs through my very veins

Keeps my heart beating

Shows light in darkness

This love is unbreakable

Mama’s love is the love that taught me how to love too

I love you a thousand ways and more

I kept waiting for something to happen, something to go wrong so I could get on with it and recover. But nothing ever did. The problems came and went ans we still stood there, wrapped in ever-lasting love for one another. I expected the worst every time - but I was proven wrong all the time. The love remained

and we grew stronger. The bad times came and I felt myself get scared, I felt my heart retreating, I felt you withdraw and I though 'this is it, here's the end' and I waited - but still, nothing came.

For a long time I just imagined my life would be a constant up and down of big loves gained and lost. I always just assumed I was destined to love many - but many were not destined to love me. You kept saying that you would never leave and for a long while I didn't believe you. Time moved along and you stayed.Our hearts and minds played tricks on us and you stayed. I fell apart over and over, wanting more, wishing for more, needing more and steadily you delivered - each time more than the time before.


I felt a alarming sense of fear - because I realised very early that losing you would define many things in my life after you - but it was as though you read my mind and made a promise with your heart and you meant it when you said you would never leave.

And still today I look at us and cannot believe my luck.

What's happened to us can only be defined as a gift. What you've given to me is more than that. You've brought so much to what I thought was so little. You gathered all my tears and fears up in a shovel and buried it alongside your own, trusting me more and teaching me how to trust you. I have never loved the way I love you.

But I will never love the way I will love you tomorrow. And the next day...

To sit down, hold your hands and thank you for every single moment would take an eternity and yet I know that one I start I won't be able to stop. When I think about us and all the mountains we've climbed, the rivers we've swum, the struggles we've have to learn to face together, I wonder how, for so long, I managed so much time on my own, without you.

Thank you for yesterday. Thank you for today. Thank you for tomorrow.

My friend with Aids is still my friend

You look no different

you feel no different

but your pain is masked upon you face like a tattoo only I can see

your disease destroys your ability to hope

I am here, healthy as can be looking at you and trying to see

a way that I can help you unlock your hope again

I can carry your pain

I can be your friend

What is running through your veins is nothing but blood to me

I love you and your disease

I love you no differently

accept and live

live and love

a cure is coming

Aids doesn’t mean stop dreaming

Find a reason to live

More reasons to be sorry than reasons to smile

More letters of regret and words of apology than the existence of a smile

More worrying about what if than relishing in memories we made today

More over-thinking of how tomorrow will become yesterday

Less laughter more tears

Less smiling more years added to the lines in our faces

Too much loathing of one another and ourselves

Not enough Thank You

Too little I love you

No more you are my best friend

The world is ours to do with what we must

Can we forgive and regain trust?

Must we move on can’t we just be those two laughing young ones shaded by glee

More reason to forgive

More options as we grow

Things get better

Life gets harder

Love ends and new love begins

Find a safe haven for your heart and find a reason to live

>>Published in www.iammagazine.co.za on 12 November 2012

dwindling memories of a used to be, sister

My heart is always open to you because I love you, you are my friend
My life is always open to yours, I live in harmony with you
Our lives are intertwined with their history and ours, I grew up holding your hand and theirs
I never had mentor, an older sibling to guide me
It was my choice to look to you
We were the perfect ying and yang

The laughter was hysterical, the kind that sparked joyful tears
The memories were uncontainable, some pop into my mind randomly and others I will hold dear until the day I pass on
The secrets were never few and far between
not a day went by without a note or small indication that the other is still existing along with the rest of the world
but we went from drawings to writing
from sleepovers to parties
from prank calls to lovers, each one of us finding solace and romance

Our worlds became distant and our notes became few
But today, on the phone
that wasn't you

last week, in my back yard
that wasn't you either

Our opinions and advice are now daggers through the heart
Our laughter is shadowed with doubt
Our secrets are few and far between
Our love is dwindling

my heart is always open to you, I love you
you are my friend.

We’re young, wild and free.

We love whom we want, we give what we want to whoever we want. We care when we want about whom we want.

We don’t take a second thought to loving another person.

Our generation is passionate about all things beautiful, unique and different.

Our generation are the ones with tattooed quotes from our favourite love songs and poetry, a generation of activism for unity.

We are Young hearts living in a world filled with love.

In the eyes of our elders we are reckless with our minds and hearts, pursuing futures with eyes of longing and passion.

We are no longer the white collared, blue collared average Joe’s running for the train or waiting for the bus.

Our minds are cluttered with ideas and hopes and dreams and each of us has an equal opportunity to grow in a nation that holds no boundaries for our creativity.

We are young hearts living in a world filled with love.

We pass one another and marvel at the others ability to style and fashion themselves as different, we spend hours carefully planning our time together, feeding off one another, sharing and living in harmonious enthusiasm for a life where we will all be happy laughing, dancing, playing, writing, thinking, banking, producing, teaching, creating, nursing.

Our limits are limitless and the time capsule that is our lives is never ending. This is the generation is the one of young hearts living in a world filled with love.

So let them call us prissy and hipsters and Hip Hop heads and Emo-kids. let them call us BEE babies, coconuts, Oreo’s, UCT brats or township girls.

Let them make their uneducated guesses about why we’ve come to be here. Let them say whatever the fuck they want.

We are young hearts living in a world filled with love.

Repressed emotions for Hip Hop

I used to wonder whether I might disintegrate if that part of me disappeared,

I wondered whether, if I’d moved on to another lifestyle, culture or comfort,

If I would tell myself that I didn’t have a heart to break.

But the smallest paper cut had a greater effect than I would realise

One small seed lead to my true love and affection for a music that would one day define most of those around me.

Not me, I am defined by nothing more than words that form lyrics, poetry, rhymes, letters. My life revolves around synonyms and antonyms and conjunctions and auxiliary verbs and adjectives…

But the life of beats and wonders of melodies belong to each and every person I have grown to love.

Could I ever have the strength to repress the undivided passion and love for Hip Hop that the ones I love possess?

There was a time when I thought I could.

I took two steps back and watched as the other world consumed me, the world with no music and no culture and no passion, the world in which I thought I could blend.

The way I see it, Hip Hop and what it stands for teaches every being to be three things;

unique,

passionate about life,

and to have faith

in one culture that has the ability to bring us all together in something that can only be described as a celebration!

Who was I to repress my inner dancer, or my inner Emcee. What right do I have to silence my inner DJ? Creativity is a gift from the heavens. Hip Hop is the platform on which we have to showcase our passions together.

Fall in love with Hip Hop again, and you’ll understand.

Why am I here?

There’s that reprimanding voice
Then the condescending tone
There’s the look of disapproval
And I look down on the floor
Why am I here, I ask myself
But I already know the answer.

Now I know what it means to feel like love has taken me as prisoner.

There’s the sigh of frustration

And then the throwing of the hands in the air with more pressure and strain.

There’s the silent treatment after
And the answer Nothing to my constant What’s Wrong
There’s the lack of information
And the omission of the truth
Followed by the denial of ever lying
And the accusations of mistrust and being misunderstood.

There’s your privacy and mine
The in between grey area
Which I wouldn’t dare to cross
Afraid of finding more than I’d bargained for

There’s walking on hot coals
Or skating on thin ice
There’s the commentary about everything
Sometimes, not very nice
There’s the I always do everything wrong
While I’m trying to do everything right
There’s the ever-lasting, mind exhausting, gut wrenching fight
Where things are said that no one means
And believing that only seems to soften the already devastating blow
Ever so slightly

And then I’m sorry,
Though I’m not always sure why
But it’s better that way
At least I won’t cry
Or I’ll try not to, because it worsens the war
And before I know it, it’s over
Back to before

With the look and the sigh and the reprimanding
And I’m left with the recurring question I’m afraid of asking
Why Am I Here?

There's something about Hip Hop

There’s something about Hip Hop that releases a kind of dancing queen inside me. Sometimes I think it’s the melody, sometimes the lyrics.

Sometimes it’s the way the artist speaks, as though no one could ever have said anything better.

There’s something about Hip Hop that moves me. It makes me want to sway my hips and move my feet to an ever growing rhythm.

I love Hip Hop songs accompanied by the harmonies of lady voices, those are my favourite.

I love the way when a Hip Hop song plays, I recognise it instantly and without warning, my body does too.

Before I know it, I’m right there in the middle of this tight beat, swaying with my mind, body and soul.

There’s something about Hip Hop that creates romance and sexiness. Flirting with someone over a Hip Hop beat, for one is exhilarating. I love the excitement of dancing with another for the first time, while the melody creates the mood and the chemistry.

There’s no right or wrong way to dance to a Hip Hop beat. There’s no in and out, not up and down. There’s just the bobbing of your head and the swaying of your hips while you recite the lyrics that you know off by heart, over and over.

There’s something about Hip Hop that sometimes makes me close my eyes; somehow it makes the song better, louder, more sensational.

There’s something about Hip Hop that defines me. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer and I Am Magazine inspires me.

Hip Hop inspires my sneaker collection, my love for straight peak caps and new fashions. My interest in that group of local Hip Hop dancers and Emcee’s whose desire to be discovered moves me in a way I never thought possible.

There’s something about Hip Hop that makes me want to work harder to make it better for all those who love it too.

There’s something about Hip Hop that makes me want to leave a legacy behind for the culture.

I bet there there’s something about Hip Hop in every one of you.

>> I wrote this piece for I Am Magazine, a Proudly South African publication. www.iammagazine.co.za

knife work

cut me
cut me in slices and lay me out like a puzzle for you to put together
cut me and lay me out to dry
and them sew me up like I never died
cut me nice and slow and deep
apply your blade skills, start with the tip and work your way down till you've reached the bottom
and then again
cut me
don't worry about the blood
it can be washed away, it can disappear and it will be like it was never there
cut me gently so my skin don't tear
make sure the knife's been sharpened and the edges aren't rough
I know I'm a softie
but my flesh is quite tough
cut me up
lay me out
take a look at what you've done
what skill you have
cut me and sew me back together so we can play this game again.

I found a boy

Love and I were common enemies.

I found that Love and I were never meant to be.

For hours I'd sit and wonder about what Love meant for me to discover, but always found myself empty handed and my heart more hollow.

Love and I were worlds apart.

I could never hold Love down for long enough to find a meaningful other.

And I was all alone.

But Love came to me one day.

Don't look to far, it came to say

because the one it chose for me was right under my nose you see.

He wandered right into my world with an unsteady smile and a glance and a word.

Love took me right into that gaze,

it left me overwhelmed and amazed.

Underneath that metal armour was a love that was an honour.

Michael arrived with the shiniest star,

one I feared was both near and far.

I waited for this love to come

I longed for this Love.

Love was kind to me once more

It arrived and I opened the door.

364 days later I'm still in awe - the love that Love brought was an Encore!

The final act of salvation from the one I'd lost faith in

The final glimpse of hope I'd partake in

The last chance for irrevocable happiness

The conclusive to my continuous question, When?

The beginning of what I thought would be the end of me.

Love found me hanging by a thread and emancipated me

364 days after kissing Michael for the first time I wrote this after being away from him for just over 4 days. I have never experienced a deeper love. I'm thankful and hopeful and grateful. And I'm in love.