ONE LOVE STANDING

I had one love standing
- inside it, ever changing
with things never setting

In endings and yonder
- the flowing, ever fonder
with time never in wonder

Place myself in real space
- no lady made me choice
I see no reason to be force

I had one love standing
- like the last man standing
the bullets, in understanding

I never knew real-love dear
- as fake love spoken to hear
not even once not even a year

Put myself in real pace
- no lady made me case
I see no reason, to mace

In endings and yonder
- the flowing, ever fonder
with time never in wonder

I had one love standing
- in all corners of tending
one love, inside it, standing


Linda Sakazi Thwala

EVEN THE WEAK GET EVEN

Even the weak get even –

Weary that, the heart will

 – Grow old and cold

Forever is but a fallacy –

For those that wear skin

 – Knowing weak and smiles

When they are fading –

Time, is dreaming chance

– To love, to hate, to be

It is in time, to let go –

To gain smiles turning

– Tension into intention

The weak walk by day –

For they sleep by night

– It is known by all man

The heart eats the corner –

In a hot space with chance

– Hoping for more, in more

Even in strength it beats –

Weary that it will grow cold

– Even with skin and old

By Linda Sakazi Thwala

I NEVER KNEW I HAD A SHADOW

I never knew, I had a shadow

Pushed away to be forgotten

In a space, that gives one draw

Its doors of earth stalled rotten

Like a mummy in an old land –

Nothing matters when it seals  

A man’s emotions are an Island

For no one cares how a man feels

Unless the show is in the money

The beginning, and the ending –

Of how his heart is defined phony

Eclipsed by the darkness pending  

I never knew it was there – dead

Dead, my heart to not take anew

For there is no honour in deed –

If you don’t show another manure 

Selling your soul right to the soil

I never knew, I had a shadow

For the doors of night were silent

Nothing heard, nothing moving

My nature always resigned to it

Knowing a man who fears the dark

Fears the road to his true self –

Like a face that fears an insular bark

A take it or leave it, choice to self

I never knew, I had a shadow

Pushed away to be forgotten

In a space, that gives one draw –

Until the light began to rise!

By Linda Sakazi Thwala

Linda Sakazi Twala

THE RHETORIC TO WAR

There is no price to war

That gives to man –

The kindness in the world

It is a shadow of death –

That takes away eclectic love

With  eyes of boom

No one knows pleasure from it  

It gives little angels penury –

Cuts free women’s sensual attitudes

The coins of war –

Leave men’s hands blotted

Minds filled with dreams of loot

Feeling the pain that is war –

In my veins – WAR

As deadly as skidding words

To disagree fundamentally

Does not mean - WAR

We should kill physically

The rhetoric shall paint –

An explosion of flawed desires

That destroys the shape of design

Dead bones through dead towns –

A plague to power in man’s minds

Pillars written in nonsensical pain

There is no price to war

That gives to man –

The kindness in the world

There is no winner, in its rhetoric

No Nation, No Peoples, No Peace  –

A mechanical word to erase races

Those who go into it – no honour

Sending verbose spears to butcher

Envy man in peaceful plateaus

World War I, II – it was War

Vietnam – it was War

Iraq – it was War

Afghanistan – it was War

African Tribal Wars – War

The War on Terror – it is War

Racism and caste division - War

It is War! It is War! It is War! –

Pillars written in nonsensical pain

By Linda Sakazi Thwala

THE MECCA OF POETRY

I am the Mecca of Poetry

She is my wordy lover –

And, I am her pilgrim

I go inside her – Poetry

With expectations, hope

My soul will be rectified

I am the Mecca of Poetry

With the fancy tower,

That leans – straightened

I go inside her – Poetry

Taken by my pilgrimage

My path of strength

I am a scholar, a lover –

A friend, a loner, an icon

That is a Mecca of Poetry

Make me be more – Poetry

Make me feel more – Poetry

Poetry, you are my Mecca

I go inside you  – Poetry

With expectations, hope

My soul will be satisfied

By Linda Sakazi Thwala

Linda Sakazi Twala

THE QUIET SPEAKER’S VOICE

The speaker walks devoid of word

In a place, that no man ever told

Like distant echoes, out off-site

A quiet world is sinking in dry

As the desert sands that one try

The speaker feels it in his walk

Love, has in a faraway place left

All the humane voices, were felt

In the seasoning meditation of wits

The closer journey is an attraction

To the tiring, step-by-step of man

Throwing metaphors in the still air!

Everything that has been, has faint

Frail aberrations of a dying season

The speaker walks devoid of word

The quiet words are stolen winds

Oddness in an abrasive tick of hour

A voice heard by the fallen light

Oration by the wings of redemption

The Heavens will see them fall –

Clipped between glow and gloom

A place that has no in betweens

The absolute is not love, nor hate

For there is no absolution in any

In its two sided silence and shouts

Like the walk that goes on endlessly

Enough came - enough was not steal

Enough left, for the heart was not steel

An oracle written in the days of youth

A child, a boy, a man, in the walk of life

The speaker walks devoid of word

Listening to the silence that speaks

The crashed cramped cracked words

Death will never know thee in death

For in death, thee shall stay on –

In a place, that no man ever told

Where the heart is mellow in yellow

The warming hands were not enough

But the silent walk will bring endurance

The warming feet will be all enough

In the voice of quiet peaceful peace

By Linda Sakazi Thwala

Linda Sakazi Twala