Drowning in this glass of wine

Drowning in this glass of wine

A voice within said,”Do not drink too much of this wine”, I failed to listen.

I see my future dancing between the circumferences of this misty, transparent glass of wine,

I wish to feel every drop going down my throat leaving the fruity scent coloured on my deceiving tongue,

I wish to sense the combustion of the mixture of chemicals and berries deceiving my mind and cells,

I wish to cut all ties between insecurities and emotions playing hide go seek with the brain,

I wish to filter coldness and deceit to help strengthen this heart with greed,

I wish to forget the past with no strength of intoxicated elements and drugs.

Should this glass break, my future shall be scattered on every fine glass on this past crowded floor.

I picture my past on every broken piece;

The mixture of fermented grapes and chemicals seem to bring out the best in me,

The root of my happiness is determined by every popped up cord on each empty bottle,

The source of my heartache is furnished by every sip swimming down my throat.

I always hear my favourite song playing on the radio each time I break down,

Somehow I wish it could stay on repeat for my last bottle and I to dance.

I steered down my phonebook to entertain this loneliness inside,

Got my Ex on speed dial but couldn’t dial her up, cause fiddling back into the past has never gained anyone courage.

Unfamiliar voices keep whispering commitment in my ear,

Not sure why the victim for it’s this icy glass I plan to marry,

Merry be those who found peace in my downfall,

Therefore let Mary weigh the crown in victory,

Neither Mare nor Marie could change this beast I have turned into,

Watch me walk down that isle in spirit,

Hand wrapped up around her waist just in time to help catch Manna from heaven.

Life is like a game up chess,

Either you put it in check or it mates you,

So as insignificant as I am now,

Worry less about surrendering my life to the game,

For its every indecisive move that led my life to the drain,

Instead of using the brain,

For my problems has always been the money pouring like rain.

I wish not to see myself cuddled in my bed tonight,

For I which not to know what the lonely ghost in my nightmares has planned for me.

My failure is the apple of every naked eye,

 And you there judging,

You don’t know how many people lost their lives to save mine.

I am a poet by calling, but lost my purpose through visions,

I wrote you love songs and poems to aspire,

You were inspired,

You changed,

You related,

Lived to bold words I uttered with pride but couldn’t find salvation in the change I brought in people,

I find it unethical for my thoughts to be sentenced for actions that circulate through my mind,

Therefore I ask that these mind-manacles be unchained.

By:Ts Mashile

Lady in a Suit

God has promised never to leave us nor forsake us,

So I relived the Bible in three different dimensional and saw him pull out a part of me to perfect another version of me, which was a woman.

A rib of me was out-caged,

Brought into another flesh, and God never stopped breathing life to women in suits.

Like a bicycle,

 I raced up to her approximate breathing speed,

Cycled back to lower the beating of my heart rate, because her looks alone couldn’t get beyond any naked eye without feeling the piercing of a sharp spear in the heart.

Driven by success,

Had a collision with a heart wrapped in work files,

I showered it with flowers and diamonds but my proposal was nothing compared to homosexuals and informal marriages.

Lady in a suit, gravy in its soup

Her spectacles through the elected sun rays reflect the brightness in her intelligence,

Her walk in heels make successful men in red ties tie back their pride to bow down to a goddess,

Apart from fantasies and unrealistic visions, I’d take her dignified aura to flight,

Set every corroded self-doubt in her to motion so her smile can be scattered on every successful wall for her next emotional downfall.

You see,

I walked the streets,

Smoked the weed,

Then came across her;

Imaginations started swirling back to reality,

Emotions grew thick eyes,

Heart pictured ancestors in pitch black,

They happen to be absurdly glorified by the lady in black.

Lady in a suit, gravy in its soup,

Ignorance is bliss with knowledge,

While without time her beauty is faded.

By:Ts Mashile

Life in a Train (Metro Rail)

Life in a Train (Metro Rail)

It is an early morning, the clock is ticking,

 Bosses are impatiently waiting, thoughts are tired reciprocating,

Families are home starving, baby is on her last nappy,

Bills are piled smiling, electricity is on blinking,

 The future is untold; will they make it on time to save their worries?

Welcome to the hustlers corner,

Where job seekers are on classifieds trying to save tomorrow,

Fathers and bread winners privately dropping aces in hope to bring food to the tables,

Vendors screaming apples and bananas with a dream to turn avocados into notes and poverty fighters,

Teenagers are on teaming, the bell is ringing to those with will,

Politicians plead the power is in their hands,

While the insane count less papers playing normal,

The illiterate reading papers playing literate,

The poor ripping notes with a will to fit in,

The government is doing no good to God’s carbon fibres but more harm to this train.

Conversations start with a smile, comes to halt with a frown,

Unions are being formed,

Strangers are called friends,

Communities are kept strong,

Crime is less intimidating,

One’s insecurities are hardly at stake,

Love is bought with peace,

Journeys are prolonged,

The driver is unknown,

Complaints are unheard,

The slogan is “ride or walk home”,

What you think is none of their concern,

Bribe away those tears and worries, then hold peace,

This is a give and take world,

The sun does not always rise in the west,

You become more at ease when you call this source home.

By: Ts Mashile

The Institution

The Institution

Been dragged down the stream to satisfy those in authority,

Been robbed of my future so I can sit and watch survivors eat off my sweat

Dreams I had are revolving in circles,

Plans I made are left unimplemented,

The system has turned my devotion against me,

I’m seen behind loud walls contradicting myself,

I am in a clueless stained battle trying to save my thoughts in this un-destined flow.

I find an organ of mine faced against this institution,

All rights destroyed, my faith reserved.

Temptations are closing in; my faith is now part of an accountant’s ledger,

I’m here questioning the existence of God like a child raised in a sack.

I was born to rise but I find myself on these knees begging the system to be keen and kind enough to give an African child a chance to help fight poverty back at home;

Instead policies and procedures are set upon me,

Lawyers and authorities are brought before me

I am forced to desert what I have orchestrated, step aside and watch born frees play trampoline on my future.

They have weaselled their way into my spirit,

Stolen all what was left,

And helped those in oath fill up the lifeless void within

My strength is lifeless,

Brain brainless,

Even the friendly lizard behind my spine has become a stranger,

I am here asking questions that even Google can’t deliver.

My mind was fixed, I found no plan “B” in my cries,

So I thought of letting the devil in so he finds a purpose for this empty canvas.

No don’t get me wrong,

I tried thinking out of this clueless box for inspiration,

But ended up putting together the similarities of the train rail to the sacrifice of Christ so I can be buried with what I regard sin and forget earth has ever existed.

As this sad monster that I’ve been turned into today, I refuse to end my life this way,

I seek to find reform in this tragedy,

Not give them a shot, act like a convict, and let my thoughts be imprisoned for what I think is right.

By: Ts Mashile

Play Me a Sad Song

Play me a sad song

Play me a sad song,

Fill up these jars with the streaming of blood flowing down my cheeks,

Cut open my veins let every drop of red drench the beast’s mouths in satisfaction of his thirst in this liquidated disguise,

Unchain my heart; feed it to his abrasive servants so I the pleasant don’t feel any abdominal pain on my last beat,

Let them dwell in excitement as my every limb is laid down, the night of the feast, to recuperate their fore fathers in my poetic genes.

Play me a sad song,

Tell the woman, who bore me not to lose strength in my abhorrent passing,

Let her soul regain happiness through this sad song for I wish to mourn my own death in a harmonious way.

Keep dry her tears,

Ease her pain and rather let her running water wash away every abiding memory she has of me,

Give her an excursion to my last breathe,

Expose my blood stains but let her save her baleful intentions for her own passing.

Play me a sad song,

Let my friends celebrate my life like the night I lost my conscience,

Let the last bottle be spilled to the surface as the rounds circulate to the next friendship vow.

Let them not remember the bad but the good I brought in them,

Let them treasure every memory they have of me so we can meet again on obit’s last rotation.

Play me a sad song,

Let those I have erred find salvation in the last limb the beast has of me,

Let the tent outside my mother’s house ablaze my choleric enemies with excitement,

Let my barbarous death be spoken of on every dining table before sunset,

Let the Government Issue awareness campaigns now that I’m gone instead of before,

Let the world become a better place without me.

Play me a sad song,

Let the beast be condemned for taking my life,

Let him stutter my name in different tongues till the mole in him is baffled,

Let him pound his head against torture till he is concussed,

Let him wish back from his conniving ways to the day he was born,

Let my life be re-lived through his suffering.

Play me a sad song,

Let it be audible to my last comfort for me to hear,

Play me this final sad song,

Let those who seek vengeance find peace in this song.

By: Ts Mashile