Monthly Archives: June 2011

Hit and Run

Freak accident,
Permanent injuries sustained,
On my death bed helpless I remained,
The angel of death; my attempt he declared a ‘failed suicide’
How can it be declared a failed suicide whereas I was a victim in a hit and run accident?

Both heaven and hell put an invisibility cloak at their entrances,
They wouldn’t let me in,
All I wanted to do was escape the pain that came with the deep scars and my wounded soul BUT
I couldn’t, for both heaven and hell shut me out

It was a ‘hit and run’ type of accident,
He hit it and he ran,
He entered and before sunset faded,
I gave him all of me and now him I’ll never see,
A wounded soul all because of that hit and run.

If only time had stood still when I was caught in the moment,
Had my parasympathetic system taken over,
If only I had blocked his vehicle,
Had I took time to study the rules of the road,
Maybe just maybe it wouldn’t have been a ‘hit and run’ ,
Now HIV has become a part of me,
all because of that ‘hit and run’ , a one night stand!!

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Love Letter

Dear Awesome Mr Handsome

When I look at you I lose my mind,
How did I an angel like you on this earth find?
You’re one of a kind,
Your soul radiates this light;

I think it’s in your eyes,
Your eyes,
They don’t tell lies,
It’s all crystal clear when I look at u.

When I think of you,
Time stands still,
The angels of beauty & serenity at the sight of you kneel,
There’s really none like you,
With a smile so pure;

The mere thought of you sets in motion a series of emotions I cannot explain,
The magnitude of what I feel for you exceeds a combination of the world’s oceans,
Yes, I’m in love with you,
I hope you love me too.

Lots of love

Poetic Medic

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Journey of A Wounded Soul

He sent me packing with nothing but the clothes I was wearing,
Barefooted I took to the streets with no idea of where I was going,
I was being led by my wounded soul,
On a journey that had no goal.

The soles of my feet with blisters and calluses,
My toes swollen and pale due to the heat of the dessert sand,
Dark circles embracing my teary eyes,
An ancestral drum beating in my head because of the anger, heat and noisy hawks,
My eccrine sweat glands working over time,
Sticky, salty tasting skin,
A strong ancient odour reeking of death all around me,
A deep thirst, so deep it felt like satan himself had a pot scourer, violently scouring the inside of my throat,
Exhaustion creeping in,
Dehydration was taking over,
A heart torn apart; heartbreak a reality,
What was declared as one before men and God, divided!

My wounded soul led me to my death bed,
My body succumbed to the angel of death and gave in,
My journey finally had a goal;
That of death!!

May the ancestors of have mercy on my confused husband’s soul,
He chased me away for I had failed to give him children of his own,
He put in motion ‘the journey of a wounded soul that finally had a goal’

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Wasting bullets by Mutsinda Netshitungulu

I go round and get around my head trying to stop the
merry-go-round that has become my dread,
Reindeer packages of the summer nights could not come any later;
When is Jesus’ birthday coming? Maybe I’ll get a smile for a present this year.
Rain . . . Dear that was yesterday, it doesn’t rain on us anymore,
Now I stand on top of a mountain of memories so close to heaven
I can almost lick moonlight to console my dreadful heart.

Lies are deafening, pain is sickening, I know it’s about time I murder the devil
But every time i turn around to shoot at him all I find is his shadow,
So yes, against all rather positive odds I continue to lie to myself just to get by,
Inflicting more pain unto myself with each lie,
It’s amazing how up until this day I still cannot die,
Let me reflect back to the past right after this sigh –
-SIGH-

I remember when you asked me whether I live in the real world
or in the world I create in my own artistic head,
Time being time, against us, I never got to answer you,
In my mind this is what I said though:
The real world is full of unrealistic measures and achievements
that people are yet to achieve, it gives me something to look forward to.
The world in my head is full of unrealistic measures and achievements
that I’ve already achieved, I bask in the comfort of knowing
that I’m perennially ahead of time.
Still I live in neither one of the two worlds, they are just not enough for me,
My world is instantaneous; it’s in the state of the mind,
It sways and changes like an amusement park full of mood swings,
Its culmination point comprises of me flying on angel wings,
Only when you were here my world – my state of mind –
was able to prevail and last as a coalesced of beauty
comparable to the softness of your rosy-red lips.

I know it’s about time I murder the devil for taking you away from me,
Coz now I go through the day wasting emotional bullets
shooting down trees that so much as to stare at me for no reason.
But, at the end of the day I crawl back into my baby-like nature
in which I was born
And pray to God that I may be reborn!

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Still Birth

An empty womb,
A long trail of stretch marks,
Heavy breasts filled with milk and no soul to feed,
A recovering birth canal,
A shedding uterine wall accompanied by a river of blood;

I held his tiny lifeless body in my arms,
I gazed at his minute wrinkled fingers and imagined how having them touch me would have felt,
As I wept,
I silently I wished that I had been granted the opportunity to have his little lips wrapped around my nipple drawing nutritional fluid out of me,
Mother Earth was so cruel she silenced him before I could hear him cry,
Time stood still,
When they told me my birth was still,
I held his tiny, lifeless body in my arms.

There he lies,
My unnamed baby boy,
In a nameless grave,
His presence jotted down in invisible ink,
His existence never to be acknowledged in earth’s history books,
The only earth he ever knew was my womb; his conception and murder site,
There he lies in an unnamed grave.

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Eruption of the mind by Mutsinda Netshitungulu

Eruption of the mind

The mirror has a thousand faces,
Only one of them is a true reflection of your soul,
Take charge of the soul don’t lose the visual…

Corruption – Eruption of the mind triggered by realization,
Letting go of the chase after sugary dreams,
Rock Paper Scissors; life is a game rock beats scissors,
The blind can’t be Ceasers, theory-based reign ceases
Rain starts to spatter patter moistening my closed crusty eyelids,
Eyes Open –
No shepherd no sheep, all equal in stance and in sleep,
Seems now I’m just interpreting my dreams

Corruption – Eruption of the mind triggered by realization,
Rationalization of the ignorant mind,
The ignorant versus the sophisticated –
Don’t get me wrong, I too get excited
It’s a free circus show everyone is invited −
Pathetic sympathetic gestures to conceal the real game,
Lack of balance, it’s a race to fame,
Who gives a damn about the shame?
The ignorant label it government,
The educated go with parliament,
I think it’s just intellectual harassment.

Not trying to point out, I’m merely expressing,
Like hell seeing is believing, seeing is seeing,
Believing is consumption of poisonous jargons
that serves as escapisms to the oppressors.
Freedom, an unspoken word in the lips of the oppressed,
a misunderstood word in the mouths of the blind –
Reserve a portion of your imagination;
your escapism from a Babylon-rooted world.
All of the government is rats!
Eruption of the mind triggered by realization.

Mutsinda Netshitungulu

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Lunar Eclipse – The temporary triumph of Darkness over Light 15/06/2011

After decades of threats,
The battle lines between the dark lords and their serpents and the arch angels of light were drawn,
A dim war it was; light then darkness,
The dark lords radiated black poisonous mist throughout the light spheres,
The arch angels of light retreated, bowed and handed over the skies for the night;
The dark lords crippled the moon, Pushed and shoved him around,
The moon stood there helplessly choking on the dark poisonous mist,
Bleeding profusely the moon turned orchid red,
As he was about to give in, the arch angels of light finally fought back and light was restored.

Darkness triumphed over light temporarily,
The final battle has been scheduled for 2018…

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Picture by Trevor Chomumwe (http://datborderlinesanity.wordpress.com/)

Picture by Trevor Chomumwe (http://datborderlinesanity.wordpress.com/)