I met him
Under a snowing sky
And he challenged me
To a dance in his home town
A dance in Hungary
A dance in Budapest
I found my way to
His home town
To Hungary
To Budapest
I breathed it in
The paprika chicken
And the steaming spas
And public baths
I saw the river
And the trams
Buildings so old and
Gracious and
Hand-crafted
Hand-painted
Breathtaking
He took me dancing
In his hometown
Where locals played their
folk music
And locals danced
To their own private song
He was the
Biggest man
So light of foot
Comfortable
In his hometown
He led
And I simply
Followed
Tag poetry
Keepsake
I fell in love with a
Preacher man
In his eyes I saw lust
And love and devotion and
Infatuation
He said
Visit me
I pondered his words
Through the day and every
Night
And so I moved myself to board
A flight with my folded
Clothes and flew
To a foreign land, a land of the
Smoke
That Thunders
Where lions roar and
Wild dogs roam
Where the sun beats on the
Naked earth
And hungry people greet with
Smiles
I kissed the ground, the warm
African soil
And allowed myself a kiss
From
Him
A kiss so sweet and tender
A single moment in a frozen time
He gave me a
Red woven cloth
Rich of fabric
And texture
And image
A keepsake
To remember him by
Showcase
A voice identifies
A voice is unique
A voice gives life
A voice to speak
A voice has power
It has a strength
A voice can sing
It can praise and hum
It is a bridge
To our inmost thoughts
It shows the world
Who we are inside
Without our voice
We’d be trapped for good
So use your voice
To be understood
Bittersweet
There is much to be said about
Birthdays
For every year without fail
They knock on the door
To take and to give
Taking babies away
And giving children in return
Taking children away
Leaving teenagers in their place
Birthdays are for balloons
And cake and gifts and
Parties and
Celebrations
Birthdays are for
Memories
And birthdays will always be
Bittersweet
Africa
I was born in Africa
A day in April.
I’m not sure which day it was.
It could have been the 24th, or it might have been
The 25th.
I cannot say.
I grew up in Africa,
In a land of toil and strife
Against itself and the world,
Uncertainty running as deep
As the uncertainty of my birth.
I lived through history—
A history that denied my best friend and I
Shared coffee at a café,
My face was too pale, her skin too dark.
Our friendship was forbidden
Yet we were bound together.
Forced separation could never deny
A childhood friendship.
I was blessed by Africa—
The soul, the air, the electricity
Brought about by a summer
Thunderstorm, dark clouds hanging
Heavy, threatening destruction.
I voted in Africa
As the clock ticked over to Wednesday
27th of April 1994.
From out of the snaking queue,
A fusion of people and race,
The land once tied up in chains
Was brought to liberty.
My Love For You
If I could write a word
To bring you peace
I would write a novel
For you to read
If I could sing a song
To give you joy
I would sing an anthem
For you to hear
If I could paint a picture
To show you love
I would paint a mural
For you to see
Al these things
I would do for you
So you would never doubt
How much I love you
Drowning Dream
I am submerged in a freezing cold sea
With waves beating mercilessly
And tugging at my whole being
I am aware of my mother alongside me
Suddenly she starts to sink
I’m overcome with panic
I need to save her
I need to help
I need to rescue
I wake to a morning song
Of birds singing their happy tune
Relief washes over me
As the sun shines brightly
I will see my mother in a while
She is not dead but is well
For I spoke to her yesterday
And heard her quiet voice
A knock at the door pulls me out my reverie
Officers at my door
There was an accident
And I need to know
My mother is no more
In a split second I realise
Dreams are no longer dreams
And a nightmare is real
Nothing Left
My father was on his last cents
There was no money in the bank
Or in his wallet
In the morning he fried the remainder of
The frozen meat that was left in our freezer
He smoked his last cigarette as he
Pulled his coat around him
And placed his hat gingerly on his greying head
He walked out the front door
Grim-faced
To the neighbors beside us
To ask for money for bread
My heart wrenched from my chest
As I watched him go
New Hope
I woke to a morning song
Of birds singing in their tree
And felt a gladness to be part
Of this magical world we share
For even when we cry our tears
And cover our heads in black
Birds will sing their songs to us
To lead happiness gently back
The Son
Finding contentment
In a world of war
Finding peace
In a heart of fear
Finding happiness
In the midst of pain
I found it all
When I found the Son
Poems and Petals 