canada

after life

IMG_20160320_142801Before the earth swallows me
And the maggots come to my party
I want to dance at the top of the mountain
My body trapped by the drum
Caught in a state of trance
Singing in a tongue native to my lips
Only audible to the spirits
When the heavens hear me
Let it rain
Soft droplets of water massaging the surface
Wiping the sweat of my forehead
As I stomp my foot into the ground
Thump the area below my feet
Awaken my ancestors
Hoist my spear aloft in recognition
Of the luxury of being alive
Singing praises to the most high
Let my voice be heard in the deepest of caverns
If it were up to me
My voice would be etched onto the cave wall
A message to future generations
Life never changes
Despite the complication of technology
Modernisation is a mirage
All a soul wants is a quiet resting place
Somewhere it calls home
A nook in the mountain side
When my time comes
Don’t shed any tears
Let the heavens come down hard
Wrap me in a moist cow skin
And let me rest as I lived
Allow me to sit upright in a cave reserved for royalty
Amongst the bravest of warriors
Because I was a soldier in my own battle
Amongst my people
A king in my language
Cos my vocabulary is my habitat
We’ll meet in the after life

knox mahlaba
Copyright © 2016
Author of Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
‪#‎backfromthedeadtherisingofanafricanspirit‬
+Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit

Photo Credt: knox mahlaba Copyright © 2016

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olympics

I want to go far away
A distance from the smog
Get out of these shoes
Retire from the formality of the pin stripe
This tie reminds me of a noose
I want to go somewhere
Where I’ll greet each sunrise like an Olympic event
Tie my boot laces
Climb hostile terrain
Live on a ranch
Off the grid
Deep in the woods somewhere
Spot wildlife unexpectedly
Chase after impala
Only to see its beauty at a closer vantage point
Smell the taste of the range
Embrace the width of the plain
Go back into time
Light a lantern
Sit on a porch listening to crickets
And the rest of the night time choir
Look into the eyes of the pitch dark forest
Circumvent fear
And the associated trepidation of introspection
Find my soul somewhere in the solitude of the forest
Hone my archery capability
Give nature what it has given me
Balance the scales ever so lightly
Earn a livelihood hunting poachers
Kill trophy hunters for a sport
Enjoy the olympics

knox mahlaba
Copyright © 2016
Author of Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
‪#‎backfromthedeadtherisingofanafricanspirit
+Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
Photo credit: knox mahlaba © 2016

we was always beautiful

We was always beautiful
Even when our collective memory didn’t recall
When we were called names
Suffering from a trauma induced amnesia
When we couldn’t recollect who we are

We was always beautiful
Even when your mentality refuted a glaring fact
Black is beautiful
You know what I am talking about
Am referring to your plantation mentality
Your self-defeating attitude right there

We was always beautiful
Thank goodness for the brothers and sisters who recognised
Focused on a glaring fact
Glorified by the halo of the afro
Dressed in black garb from head to toe
Leather jackets, polo necks, berets
Armed with knowledge
Reminding us against our will
Coining a phrase with no change in our pockets
But bold enough to change many a mind set
Including mines and my generation
Cos black is beautiful was the platform of my birth
When I realigned my mind set instead of my facial features
When I parted ways with the moonwalker
When I parted ways with insecurity
Embracing my coarse textured hair
My broad nose fulfils its primary objective
Keeping me alive with a constant supply of my stash
Hooked on oxygen by default
Trying my best to breathe

We was always beautiful
When our skin was undiluted
When it was diluted
We give the world its true complexion
Cos our souls will never be diluted

knox mahlaba
Author – Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
Copyright © 2015

‪#‎backfromthedeadtherisingofanafricanspirit‬
‪#‎blackpanthers‬ ‪#‎breathe‬ ‪#‎blacklivesmatter‬ ‪#‎africa‬ ‪#‎medium‬ ‪#‎afropunk‬ ‪#‎poetry‬ ‪#‎poetryblogs‬ #backfromthedeadtherisingofanafricanspirit ‪#‎knoxmahlaba‬

Photo: property of zen magazine africa

painted faces

Superior to my count of birthdays
My soul greater than I
Older than me to be precise
Making a mockery of home affairs

Born of the universe
Akin to native people
The first peoples

Born on a prairie
My soul dancing with wolves
Swimming in mystical waters

Born of warrior spirit
Fascinated by the Hakka
My spear and shield fighting to the death
Following my spirit to eternity
Attached to ancient ceremonies
A graduate of culture

Born in a cave with painted walls
Rain dancing in the Kalahari
I beg your pardon
Kgalakgadi I meant to say

Born close to the land of my forefathers
Casting my net far and wide
Intrigued by humanity
Searching for humility

Appreciating mankind
People with souls
Painted faces

My pedigree embedded with colour
My praise names an oral history
When we were kings
My soul a nomad like a sand dune
My spirit universal

Copyright © knox mahlaba 2015
Author – Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit