Poetry Blog by jabulani mzinyathi

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keith jeffries on daggers drawn (Sun, 12 Mar 2017 10:13 pm)

keith jeffries on back hander (Sun, 12 Mar 2017 10:12 pm)

Cynthia Buell Thomas on in silence (Fri, 16 Dec 2011 05:36 pm)

Francine on in silence (Fri, 16 Dec 2011 01:16 am)

on daggers drawn (Thu, 30 Jun 2011 05:52 pm)

on daggers drawn (Mon, 27 Jun 2011 01:41 pm)

Cynthia Buell Thomas on daggers drawn (Sat, 25 Jun 2011 12:09 pm)

Dave Bradley on daggers drawn (Fri, 24 Jun 2011 10:15 am)

Laura Taylor on daggers drawn (Fri, 24 Jun 2011 09:19 am)

Rodney Wood on in reverse gear (Fri, 17 Jun 2011 01:48 pm)

in silence

like a moth fatally attracted

fatally attracted to scalding luminosity

you summon all your charms and wit

showering her with accolades

worming your way into her heart

for there they say love dwells


then she turns into frankenstein

robbing you of  your peace

throwing many a weird tantrum

as she becomes a dangerous control freak

turning your life into...

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back hander

not throwing the baby out

out with the bath water

'speak tongue's lash

on the naked buttocks of silence'

reality delivering a back hander

on the jaws of half truths


flocking in multitudes to those places

there to be fed on sexist doctrines

men clinging to the pulpit

reviling women for the menstrual cycle

preaching messages of subjugation



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daggers drawn

God is out of it

watching isms and schisms centre stage

there in the spotlight

taking precedence


protestant god at it

catholic god at it

fanning fires of  division

papal infallibility questioned

new paths charted


lessons of love abandoned

gods of petrol bombs worshipped

gods of missiles praised

that is the essence


fighting to...

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in reverse gear

the flower has a sting

it now has wings even

starts darting from bee to bee

in search of honey


the bee now has petals

exuding much fragrance

pollen and nectar abound

the bee now waits for flowers

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searching for the ideal

flood gates closed

burst the dam wall

flow to the sea


caged bird

fly to the sky

stretch your wings


potted plant

your roots spread

shatter the vase' base

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questioning that institution

it is not cowardice

to opt out and walk away

when it becomes misery filled

then it is not worth it

when the bickering goes on

goes on ad nauseum

then bliss lies elsewhere


it is not about regret

the germination of future bliss

practical considerations hatched

out of the egg of failure

don't tell me about regrets

it is setting the captives fre...

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sounds of hypocrisy

the wall paper falls off

the crevices now exposed

fleas leap out of sight

cockroaches scurry for cover

the wall paper falls off

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discordant voice[ dedicated to chenjerai hove-poet in exile]

his voice deemed discordant

singing all the wrong songs

not singing the usual praises

violently shaking their consciences

taking them out of the comfort zone


in a huff he packed his bags

baying for his blood they were

the hounds had picked the scent

that audacious eye was too much

that discordant voice had to be silenced

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african drum

entry picture

the demonised drum

speaks to my soul

soothing my african soul

sweetly caressing it


invoking those spirits

the restless spirits of my people

hot iron branded : pagan

those that dangled at noose ends


reverberations of the drum

spelling out my happiness

at times messages of strife

the demonised drum

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waves of despondency rock this boat

the oars of hope will take it to the shore

never to drown in this watery abyss

rowing to the horizon of those ideals


this boat will not capsize

surmounting those ravenous waves

daily stalked by these predators

the boat will reach the shore

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the sound of emptiness

entry picture

what is the residue

stripped of high sounding titles

taken out of the limousines

bereft of computerised wardrobes

stripped of suits from harrods

and all the fashion capitals of the world


what is the residue

stripped of the mindless ostentation

perhaps just a barren wind blowing

 a drifting cloud bearing no rain

maybe humility may fill the void

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the rose in full bloom

the sweetness of its fragrance

the allure of its pink petals

the allure of its red petals


then the thorns take centre stage

the beauty of the petals is drowned

the pricking dents that beauty

then the deep revulsion sets in

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technology and man

will i be lost in the crowd

that invisible crowd on face book

or is it the tagged crowd

am i turning into a recluse

or is it an internet junkie


i resisted the false allure of gambling

never went for hard drugs

the dangers were all too obvious

am i set to be a hermit

exhibiting anti-social traits

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of umshini wami fame[jacob zuma sa president sexcapades]

the media launched the scathing attack

calling him a devout philander

labelling him a sex addict

accused of warping african culture

labelled dreadfully anachronistic


then dambudzo marechera said it

the rat every cat secretly admires

many would wear his shoes

listen to the sound of reality

see the loathing of his guts

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the stench of greed

smiles perhaps?

a pat on the back?

showered with accolades?

no, totally impossible


mired in unbridled corruption

greed at the root of it

the poor bear the brunt

justice - a commodity for sale


decided to take a stand

protracted and concerted attacks

baying for my blood

mafia daggers at the whetstone


standing firm still 

the ba...

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stand up and liberate yourself

throw off that yoke

that yoke of silly values

pull that chair for yourself

open that car door for yourself

that silly label throw out

be a fighter not a lady


there is a price to be paid

show me what is for free

the chains i will show you

the bondage i will show you

get up woman liberate yourself

refuse to be pa...

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torture chambers

regrets presiding over the inquisition

in the torture chambers of past hurts

the subconscious relentlessly whacked

blood curdling screams shatter the present

shards of broken hearts there everywhere



the ghosts of the past stoutly refusing

stoutly refusing to yield to the future

there a fresh dawn yearning to sprout

time healing these broken hearts


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the fiery fire of infidelity

gutted that spacious mansion

what remained was an empty egg shell

bereft of the yolk and egg white

there were threats of suicide

there were threats of trigger squeezing


no plaster of paris to mend the fracture

the blows landing heavily on the children

some found solace in hard drugs

others plunged into the cesspool of lunacy


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fruits of failure

behind it all

the hidden hand

the greed and corruption

aftermaths of failure

the genocide in rwanda

someone somewhere profiting

the catastrophe in somalia

the total destruction

the fighting in ethiopia

the oil driven fights

internecine strife in nigeria

in the jungles of the drc

blood diamonds fuelling conflict

the dust under the carpet


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reggae music

longing for that home

the home they were wrenched from
when the ancestors were bound
bound in shackles and chains
and auctioned like beasts of burden
auctioned in foreign and far away lands
that unforgettable crime against humanity

today the children wail still
the black star liner did not take them back
did not take them all back home
the messages are profound in the music
the honey drips from the suffering


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the insider

entry picture

oblivious of the photographer

the curiosity behind the camera

just a stain on society's wall

the roots of the derangement to me unknown

oblivious of the photographer

whirlwind of thoughts in the mind

just like a smudge of spilled opaque beer

treated with indifference by the drinkers

crouching in some stinking corner

the conspicuous outsider on the inside

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on my way

pursuing my ideals

with maniacal zeal

they will be after me

for standing in their way

the way to ill gotten gains

the path of destruction

never expecting a pat on the back

but an arrow through the heart

there is a price tag

justice is up for sale

hear the trumpet of triumph

the vanquished drown in their tears

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stench of arrogance

entry picture

hear the wailing

wailing in the ghettoes

the stench of failed schemes

the putrid arrogance

the avoidable deaths

graves gobbling many

hairy maggots in morgues

life rendered worthless

rivers of  raw sewage

many a life drowned

hear the wailing

wailing in the ghettoes

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david livingstone[deadstone]

entry picture

in an ominous silence

there before your discovery

your out of place imposing statue

there before that rumbling

the rumbling of mosi-oa - tunya

the batonga did not matter

that name refused to die

under the english dead weight

the english dead weight of queen victoria

your queen could not take precedence

mine was righteous indignation

stood there and told you the truth

your imposing statue at that place

that out...

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oil and water

still steeped in arrogance

those many years of obduracy

add the unbridled profligacy

maintaining the status quo

the fragility of peace deals

the oil and water deals

but then time is the master

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that kiss

by my gate i stood and watched

into the night you drove

wondered what was in your mind

into turmoil mine was thrown

what did that kiss mean

did it have its roots in the alcohol

was it just another soap bubble

a deluge of questions with no answers

this raging storm in my mind

when will the calm come

was it the beginning of the end

was it the harbinger of something profound

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dim the light

the multitudes will use that road

built on years of lies

the path of truth will be overgrown

overgrown by thistles and thorns

they detest travelling along it

they will blame the mirror

for their faces that are askew

obsessed with all those praises

the high sounding empty titles

sycophants singing those praises

hear the dirges out there

the fools are followed everywhere

leading the gullible into precipices

the ...

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your cooking

woman , your cooking i enjoyed

when i yearn for more

blame me not at all

a special dish yours was

never to be tasted by anyone else

a tasty dish that was

never will i have enough of it

the inexplicable succulence of that dish

woman your art you perfected

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staying afloat

the poetry keeps me afloat

saving me from the depths

the depths of murky water of frustration

deriving happiness in sadness

hope available in large doses

this poetry keeping me afloat

all the shackles and chains around

finding freedom in my mind

thought police cannot touch this

at times am a dove in the sky

at times a mountain echoing voices

yours , mine everyone' s voices

experimenting with the images


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generation gap

we call it the generation gap

we called them conservative

today we are stuck with that label

that label we used yesterday

we label them the rebels today

it is all a just vicious cycle

the wheel has to turn full circle

in our eyes they are forever young

in dire need of our protection

we are overtaken by the events

they protect us against ourselves

today they move with the same haste

choosing to ignore: more ha...

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giving birth

my mind is in labour

the pain is getting worse
the baby is on the way
could be a full term baby
or one destined for the incubator
the pain of a still born one

the pain is getting worse
the waiting will not be long
the naming is on the way
that is the icing on the cake
the pain gives way to joy

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untitled thoughts

entry picture

not totally deflowered by technology

no addictive internet here

a cellphone here another one there

the occasional motor vehicle passing by

cattle bells ringing in the distance

the village cocks exchanging greetings

doves cooing up there in the trees

voices broadcasting news from out there

voices whimpering under the rock of exile

these thoughts yearning to find expression

dying to reach out to others out th...

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out of grim necessity

entry picture

the grinding poverty here

the larvae burdened water

the elusive foreign currencies

lies told to get food aid

out of grim necessity

tired soils yielding nothing

the heavy rock of poverty

weighing heavily on their shoulders

the axe wreaking havoc

out of grim necessity

queues for never arriving grain trucks

the politics of food at play

souls up for sale here

'hunger in the belly rose to the brain'

out of that grim...

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blocked ears

then vincent ford wrote them

composed those great lyrics

you put the passion into it

the world sang along

the world still sings along

where are you bob marley

what of the composer vincent ford

the job is yet to be completed

'no woman no cry' still misunderstood

never the lyrics of a misogynist

telling a woman not to cry

assuring her everything will be okay

still many do not get it today

listening skills at an ...

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everything working like clock work

ready for all the romp and pomp

friends and foes ready to feast

the african laughter resonating

for you were back to this land

the land of your ancestors

then death struck on the eleventh hour

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thought tracks

 after the mask of hypocrisy

has been by reality shredded

the truth will walk stark naked

much to the chagrin of pretenders

that is when it dawns on you

this life drama has no script

the sweetness is in the spontaneity

it is in seizing the particular moment

the futility of pigeon holing

thought police cannot arrest this

no dam can hold back these thoughts

efforts at censorship put to shame

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