Sunday, 07:41:11 PM





I am woman I am no stranger to blood not all blood is re(a)d red the colour or read the verb but all bleeding is loss not all loss is re(a)d red the colour or read the verb once a man came to bleed between my legs blood is rust

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When I am old

When I’m old and my hair is Grey I never want to look back and regret How we never counted stars, named and owned a few How we never fought to fight another day

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Waiting For Home

The air is stale here in the summer A wind of mosquitoes overwhelms the stillness, We are running from breathing because it bites Our blood is heaving at the tips of bite mountains forming on our skins

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uZanelanga-The Blues in isiXhosa

Ndidibene naye ndimi ndedwa eqongeni. Ndandizincina, ndincwina, ndiziva ndimncinane. Ndandicula ngoma ithile. Kuyo ndandizama ukwehlisa isingqala esasindiqhine umqala, sindikrwitsha rhoqo xa lisihlwa. Ndasondeza umboko ndahlabela:

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And if he was President He’d take a million wives, Fly to Dubai and make rich friends He would be an absent leader and dab at events He would make the nation laugh and carry with him scandals that have been publicized He would be the kind of president that women protest when he speaks

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