ABC,s

"It takes just 26 letters to create a universe
The world is dismantled and then reassembled
Through the lens of a pen and verse

I have lost myself in books
And then found myself in words
Living in a world without imagination
I can think of no fate that is worse.

I’ve walked through the lives of individuals
Whose eyes I’ve never known
I’ve been to cities and villages and country sides
Whose skies, to me, have never been shown.

It was in this solitary cell
That my greatest strength was honed
I saw that my mind was just a shell
And it’s abyss simply a hole

And the hell of a heaving heavy heart
Is still my friend
Every story has its place
And history never ends

The writer is an architect God child at play
On a canvass of memories
She lies naked between the covers
Her own lover
Her own worst enemy

Navigating between extremes
She is both the judge and the judged
The vile despised and attacked
The unashamedly beloved

The unassuming friend who’ll tell your business
When you’re not in sight
She pulls commotion out of stillness
In the cavern of the night

And South Africa is a fractured mirror
A paradox of schizophrenic selves
Who don’t talk to one another
Who fear each other

Who revere each other
Who loathe
And pretend
And try to blend in
With each other
And this is the time when you can become
The greatest substance of your dreams
Unless you live in a shack
And don’t speak English
And don’t know what this poem means

Tell me how it’s possible for people
Who walk on gold to not know how to read
Tell me how publishers who’ll never taste their tongues
Can comprehend the words that these people need
Because they’ve never been scared of stories

The ones who uttered the very first
The ones who’ll hand them to their children
Calling out the rivers of their self worth
The ones who’ll write a narrative in the ear
But who won’t call the ear a page

The ones who’ll rhyme without pens
And perform without a stage
I don’t have all the answers
I’m just a colonized African

Who breaks down the Queen’s English
Until Sesotho understands it
Still I’m compelled by those
Who may never inhabit my language

I wonder if trials and translations
Could help them to traverse my landscape
South Africa is an old fashioned mutt
Who knows how to sing

And knows even better how to cuss
Who knows how to piece together prayers
When she’s about to run out of luck
Who knows how to laugh real hard

When the tears have run her into a rut
Who knows that race is a farce
Because when the light’s are off

Every body’s fucked
And when the welts and wounds
Demand healing salve
Words are just enough"

Lebo Mashile♏

Chaos In Church

Warning this may offend sensitive readers please skip this if you are a hardcore church goer with no sense of humor.

Being the irrational believer in God that I am, I do actually believe that the Holy Bible is the word of God. Perhaps not always in the strictest literal sense, which is probably where the Pastor Sheriff and I would differ. For instance, if I discovered that Sister K had been getting freaky with the pool guy, I would not be seen wandering the Natal Spruit River bed area searching for palm-sized rocks to be used in the stoning ceremony.

I do hope that Pastor Sheriff wouldn’t mind me saying that, other than the primary objective of the Bible (spreading the Word), reading the Bible for the pure entertainment value of it can be a lot of fun too. People who haven’t read the Bible don’t actually realise that the Bible is full of awesome stories — whether one believes them literally or not.


Take the story of King David and how he snatched Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba and made her his queen. For the benefit of the heathens, King David saw her bathing on her roof, through his window, liked what he saw and decided that he should have her even though he was already married and she was also already married. 

This episode coincided with His Royal Connivingness being involved in a war of attrition with some evil Gentile types. Yeah I know, that’s pretty much the default situation in that part of the world even to this day. So he had her husband, Uriah, sent to the frontlines of the battle where Uriah was inevitably hacked to death with a sword or something. Man to be honest i thinks the sword in question wasn’t even in the hands of an enemy soldier. We’ve all seen those battle scenes from Gladiator and such alike. General chaos used to be the order of the day.



But enough about my crazy conspiracy theories. To begin with, this is not even my favourite Bible story. But you must admit; it is riveting stuff. David did ultimately marry Bathsheba and she bore him a son who would become King Solomon, the quintessential Wise One who would have put King Mswati and my fellow fvckboys  to shame with serial androgyny.In the words of Ali G: “Respek’”. 

This is the type of story that should send shivers down Gwede Mantashe’s spine and lead to the prohibition of all forms of roof bathing in the Mantashe household — if the roof is visible from the president’s office in the Union Buildings or Nkandla Homestead.



But my pound-for-pound favourite story in the Bible involves Jesus himself.Now, Jesus is the originator of the famous “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” quote … No wait. That wasn’t the Messiah. That gem was the Mahatma’s. But Jesus said something pretty similar — something about the fact that if someone slaps you hard across the cheek, the proper thing to do is to offer him the other cheek for him to finish the job. [I’m sorry, but every time someone slaps me, I offer him the palm of my hand instead. Even George Bush, the born-again, followed the same model.]



In any case, one day Jesus got so fed up with giving the other cheek to some irresponsible people who were using his dad’s temple as some kind of Oriental Plaza he forgot to offer the other cheek. Jesus went and got himself a whip and, depending on which version of the Bible you prefer, either “chased them away” or “opened a can of whupass on their behind”. To quote John 2:15, “So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables”.



As you can see, the Bible is rather scant on the exact detail. The key lies in how one reads “and drove all”. I prefer to believe that he kicked their asses. That’s just how I roll. Oh I love this story so much! I was raised the Zulu way , you see, and whupass is an integral part of the culture. Humourless born-again types like to argue that Jesus was so meek he couldn’t have actually whipped them — maybe just cracked it in the air to scare them. Either way, he was angry, grabbed a whip and somehow chased them to scatter into the general Alberton area … well, you know what I mean.



I like to entertain myself by trying to imagine the exact sequence of events. Did he get to the temple, find the dudes  chilling, doing the things that makes other guys to be winners and losers and sommer start whipping them? John 2:15 says he made a whip out of cords. This seems to be rather premeditated if you ask me. Jesus’s professional trade was woodwork, the Malema Kryptonite. I don’t know how one makes a whip. But I don’t imagine that it takes less than an hour to manufacture a strong, skin-cracking one unless one is well versed when it comes to making whips. But that would mean he made whips the whole time , which would make him a serial whipper. I don’t think so. So he would have had to sit there patiently for up to two hours while he made his weapon of temple cleansing (WTC). So far this saga smells of premeditated whupass to me.

This is incongruent with how I’ve always assumed Jesus rolled. Also, what was he humming as he rolled his WTC? Amazing Grace? The Holy Rosary? Diphiri maybe? This is the sort of thing I would have wanted inserted in the story if I was the one writing it.


This raises the question of where he got the ropes he used?. I don’t imagine he used to hang out in the general temple area with ropes around his neck in the event of loiterers and hobos defiling his father’s temple. Well, I’m thinking he probably got the ropes off one of the street vendors. This point always leaves me with a state of confusion. Should I believe that he went and purchased the WTC raw material or rather that he just snatched them from a street merchant? This is a big deal for a believer such as me.


You see, if he purchased the ropes, then he unintentionally took part in the trading himself. That means he unleashed violence on people for doing what he also did, you know what I’m sayin’? But if he just took them from the rope trader then he jacked the dude. And I don’t know if I’m ready to believe that Jesus was a ropejacker. So I have to assume that he bought them. And now I start wondering if Jesus walked over to him, tossed five denarius(old Roman gold or silver coins) at him and started rolling on the spot. Also, I wonder if the rope retailer was the first one to taste Jesus’s fury. I would call that a bittersweet situatshan. Can you dig it? Making a sale and then getting donnered with your own ropes.



What grip did he use as he went about moering them? Did he use wide, looping strokes or short, quick ones? Did the street vendors scatter about in all directions? Did a stampede ensue? Did all of them run away or did some stop and fight back? Were there high-pitched girly screams from the merchants? Did he inflict any bodily harm on anyone? Does that mean he would have been charged with assault with intent to cause grievous bodily harm if he wasn’t … you know, Jesus? As you can see, I have given this whole situation a lot of thought. I really love this story because the possible scenarios are endless.



I’m a semi-practising charismatic Christian the other half is spiritual, which means I’m deep into Lent. Lent is a time of reflection and introspection. You might think that it is inappropriate for me to worry myself with such trivial matters. But, like I said, I just roll like that. Other Charismatic Christians might be reflecting on bigger issues such as the meaning of their faith and so on. I tend to worry about matters such as which stories are meant to be taken literally and which ones are fictional. Bishop Marcelo Pires has often talked about how the authors of the Bible wrote in a style called midrash.



The essence of being Christian is really to try and be Christ-like. You know, “What would Jesus do?” and all that. The reason I like this story of chaos  at the temple is that it always makes me feel better about the many physical skirmishes I’ve taken part in. Fair enough, my reasons for beating the living crap out of people were not quite so noble, but a beatdown is still a beatdown.


If you ever read the Bible, what’s your favourite story?


FIFI!!!!

Shatter the silence

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As more and more men are accused of sexual harassment, I am intrigued by the phrase “inappropriate sexual behaviour at work”. This implies another category of “appropriate sexual behaviour at work”. Someone must explain what fits into that category. Surely there is no sexual behaviour that would be appropriate for the workplace? Our language betrays us, and shows us that deep down, there is still a huge problem.

I’ll resurrect a controversial hashtag for this thought:#menaretrash For those who didn’t follow this hashtag a while ago, let me explain. Of course, not all men are trash. But how is a woman supposed to know if the man she’s currently speaking to is trash or not? Sure, if you look like Harvey Weinstein, you can take a good guess. But Dustin Hoffman, or Bill Clinton or Bill Cosby, or Kevin Spacey (ok, women weren’t really an issue for him, but you get the point)? So, for most women, the best advice is to treat all men as if they were a threat, until you can be sure they’re not. And can you ever be sure? Hence the hashtag.

For us men who are not trash, can we be sure we’re not? Have we never done anything ever to make a woman feel uncomfortable? Have we never told an off colour joke? Or had an off colour thought? Or maybe, even more importantly, when some other guy has done or said something inappropriate in the workplace, have we just let it pass or did we step in and do something? You see, maybe #menaretrash, and maybe that’s the problem.

I’m glad these men are being called out. But it reminds me that this is a systemic, endemic problem that I must own as my own problem, even down to the language I use to describe it, if we’re going to have any chance of raising a new generation of men who aren’t trash, and a new generation of women who don’t have to spend their lives in fear.

So, let’s make sure we don’t need the #menaretrash hashtag in the future. Let’s make sure we live in a way that ensures we show that #womenmatter.

NOTE TO MY YOUNGER SELF

Note to younger self

On Wednesday the 31st of January 17 , I’m turning 24, I imagine 24 comes with mixed feelings for most people. It doesn’t seem old now that I’m approaching it, but I remember thinking it was...so old. when I was in my pre-teen's.

I forgive myself for thinking 24 was old. I was a dumb kid.

While the time has flown (as time tends to do), if I employ my little baby Introverted Judging process and take a moment to reflect on my past, I realize that much has happened.

I’ve fallen in love twice, both times to my best friends.

The first one should have just been friends, but eventually we figured it out and got it right.

After swearing I’d never date again here i am in a relationship with yet again a former friend

(I guess part of the statement) is true that guys cannot be friends with women.

I left the religion of my youth when I was 23, lost almost everyone that I had ever loved,grew up and accustomed to in the process, and found a tiny embryonic version of me.

I discovered personal development, ego work and psychedelics.

The embryonic little me has grown into someone I could grab a berv with and talk late into the night.

I pass my own litmus test for whether or not I like a person, which is good because I spend an egregious amount of time with myself.

I think back on the first time I went for personal development classes,

I admit I lacked confidence not that I was a pushover but get the this right,

I had applied to be a volunteer educator.

I was honestly testing my luck apart from being qualified with good merits i was terrified of being in the center of attention, so i needed to learn a bit of leadership and hone my soft skills I lacked given my introverted nature.

It was through progressive personal development for the the first time I asked the question

“What life will my 30 year old self want to remember?” 

I realized I had the opportunity to give a gift to my future self by doing everything possible to create that life for him.

My first gift to future me was meeting 'My girlfriend', which altered the trajectory of my life. 

I wish I could take credit for it, but it was a spectacular lottery ticket win for me. 

Sometimes I think it was the hard work I've continuously put  into becoming an amazing human being that could attract another amazing human being😍

but realistically speaking it’s probably just compatible chemical secretions.

I thank her pheromones daily👃.

As I review my life, a combination of self-directed decision making and sheer dumb luck, 

I ask myself if I could go back to that 16 year old what would I tell him?

What gift would I give to my past self?

What jewels will i share with him?

Knowing me, I would keep thinking of  a lot of things as i normally overthink things... 

But if I was forced to  sit down on a bench in a public clinic with my younger self, here’s what I hope he would be ready to receive:

1) Don’t defer your life planning to a distant date in the future. It’s silly to sit back and think, “Ah. I’ve got time. I’m still young. When I get older, I’ll do this , do that when such and such condition is met .”

Whatever you want to do when you’re older, do it today. 

Start that business you’ve always wanted,

Write a book,

Get her number,

Do it now because your life will pass you by.

Today’s it’s here, tomorrow it’s gone. There no a committee sitting in a boardroom planning your life. That’s your responsibility. Stop kicking the can down the road. There’s no nobility in the "Deferred Life Project."

2) That said...it’s not just about what you do; it’s about who you’re becoming. Find a path that allows you to love yourself.

3) Outsource your taxes to others, but not your values and beliefs. Reprogram your mind and don’t take things at face value.

4) You can never want something for someone more than they want it for themselves. I learned that the hard way. So save yourself some sleepless nights: be an example, not the hero.

5) Be kind to everyone. You don’t have to care what people think, but life is smoother if you consider other people's emotions. That said, you’re not responsible for how they feel.

6) Embrace love from others as much as you give it. If someone gives you a genuine compliment, don’t brush it off or ignore it. Embrace it like you would a loved one. It’s okay to feel loved.

7) At a certain point in the process of being brainwashed by the world you will have the self-awareness and skill to take over brainwashing, aka ‘reprogramming’ yourself. Do it. Be true to your own logic, integrity and identity.

People will be upset with you for choosing to be loyal to yourself instead of to them. 

They might not get over it. But still do it. 

You can escape them, but you can’t escape yourself.
No matter where you go, there you are.

Anyway, I’m excited to know what my 30 year old self would tell me. 

I guess I’ll have to wait to find out. 

If time accelerates like it has been, it won’t be long. 

And what about you,fam?

What words of wisdom would you share, 

if you were sitting on a bench with your younger self?

Your Happiness

1. I value your happiness, I believe you are entitled to it.
Your happiness does not have a measurement nor limit/ dividing line.
Your smile is among the most precious features you have been gifted with,I am happy to be in a relationship with you and seeing you happy makes me happy.

2. Even if I was your friend I would still be happy that you are happy
If there's one thing about me that you should know it has to be that i don't let true happiness/love slip out of my hands without one helluva fight. Don't make me have to chase after you again, because there's no way in hell you can get away from me.

3. So you better think real carefully before you say anything, love, because if you give me your love, I’m not going to let you take it back.
I can’t keep worrying about whether or not I can make you happy. I’ll try my best but there isn’t going to be any changing your mind later.

4. Do you understand what I’m saying? If you’re going to be my woman, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever let you go without trying but if we reach a unanimous decision I will free you to be happy ngoba ubaluleke kangako kimi(because you are that important to me).

5. Ngiyakuthanda futhi inhliziyo yakho ngiyaphatha ngazo zombili izandla zami( Ilove you and i handle your heart with both hands so i ) don't shake it or break it,I appreciate the time you put it to kick it with me and I know if I lose it It's somethin i may never get back.

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JUMP

Mohlalefi Motsima ©™

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JUMP

I remember vividlyhow nervous I shook on my first sky dive flight, the cabin crew seemedrelatively calm and collected as I took a glimpse on each member's face. Meanwhile I was doing my best to portray a stoic demeanour if not bravery with hope that all will work out just fine.

The pilot had the engines running and in a minute we got on board alongside our parachute's we started gearing up, that’s when Jacqueline our instructor came to help me get into my diving gear on quick and she went on to demonstrate how to use the parachute (needless to say I was nervous) .

I fiddled with the torso and finally got hold of my rosary and said a little prayer in the silence, not realizing how far we had taken off. Jacqueline and the fellow divers were engaged in pep talk and I couldn't construct a sentence,only body language spoke on my behalf (by means of tremendously shaking of course).

We reached mid-air and Jacqueline summoned us to gather in a ring shape and hold hands as the cargo door opened and the strong winds blew in but luckily I had my googles on. Before I could be ready Jacqueline had already ushered members out of the plane she held my hand and said "Jump!"

We can agree it felt like an ambush just like how life and death decisions that spontaneously arise and challenge us to decide immediately, I wasn't ready but I had to jump that are what I want you to do.

Jump at the opportunity to get better,

Jump at the opportunity to go against the weather.

I've heard it said you can't go against the rain but I ask you would you let the rain stop you from reaching your reign.

Jump for the opportunity might be worth your triumph!

Jump to change the conclusion of your situation

Jump to tap into the depths of your mind and unveil the power of thoughts,decisions and actions for you have the power to make them.

Decisions also have the power to make us,shape us now don't let that opportunity escape us

Jump ship out of poverty Jump out of your comfort zone,

Jump out of friendships that add no value to you
Jump till you triumph

Mohlalefi Motsima

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We Are The Youth

We are the youth who rise up one day at a time
carry the world on our shoulders like atlas held up in the sky
so each time that we sigh, breathe, scream and beg for our lives
then the earth starts to shake and thunder roars our cries.

We the youth feel a pain each time one of us dies
it’s a cut to our souls like a stab in the side
it’s that heart wrenching ache that you feel when you cry
sobs that sandpaper our throats our throats burn like wounds filled with lime.
will someday sort out your wars and forgive you for your crimes
we watched continents divide as you drew lines to separate and when
asked to fight your battles we willingly crossed the lines as bait
million times

we have asked for your help but we got no reply
we were thrown away from, the nest like birds learning to fly.
But, we fell straight to the ground .where sirens echo our shouts
and right here on cracked concrete you let us cry and bleed out,

our blood feeds the streets.
So now babies with guns aim blind and shoot fast!
so we kill and we are stunned by the weight of a gun,
a cold metal piece known to expose ones like swot analysis on fragile
hands that are shaking from the fear we don’t understand, we are
stunned.
there is no death more tragic than the one we can avoid
a child dying of hunger while grown up’s play with their toys
every dream we lose a sight of another of us is destroyed

we are the youth who rise up one day at a time
understand what it means to be part of the city but to never be seen
we exist ,in shadows in messages written on walls
see the poetry we write sprayed in black urban sprawl,
hear the words that we scream as we climb up on the stage
you should fear our emotions because we are so filled with rage
but, we want to calm down.

See the change that you say can exist
if we somehow agree to engage in a movement an act that can unite us all
if we take the first step then the rest will follow
so to undo what you’ve done now,
we’ve got to create, to take back and push forward find a way to translate
to the world and each other that greatness is our fate

Copyright ©WORDPLAYSAIDIT
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Random Thoughts of wordplay

its a Monday Morning in south Africa and most people went to church yesterday right?

Oh well I am one of those who have not had the privilege to go n praise in the house of God in a while apart for today ,

but hey being spiritual doesn't require a pastor to stand in the middle of your way n God all the time right?

Now tell me if you were to find a job or say apply for a bursary whatever the case may be but the requirement is that you bring a certified two page testimonial from your pastor talking about you as a church member and your overall conduct within and outside the church. How would that affect your chances of getting the bursary or job position you are applying for?

I for one know a while lot of part time Christians, not that I am judging but I am observing.

I hope you get the gist of the argument....

"talk to a brother talk to me"

good Morning


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