My mother is dying. Childhood sucked. My mother, Gloria, ruled the household and she was a religious monster without logic. My father spent more time away than in, often holding down three jobs and sleeping 4-6hrs per night. He would not contradict her. He avoided. But he provided some fond moments for me, whether it was watching a “sinful” video at someone else house or having a small, secret braai on secret, horse racing Saturday. I wasn’t destitute in a physical sense (thanks, Dad!). There was always a meal (although … Continue reading →
I asked for a mother and you gave me a priest When i cried for love, you turned away, left me floundering in waves of hate which bred confusion and questions unanswered that brought me closer to death.
Wake from your life, the wetting of your tears like piss Today, i and an image of you escape, somewhere escape Hurry, get undressed before my eyes reflect in your motherâ€™s, before my lust breathes a bubble Think, keep thinking, hold onto our blackness Think, keep thinking, that you me do love Try resisting this invasion of chill Mumble a poem of dragons and soul fire You can laugh (the one that you mock with) but your rules will tremble at our arrival Your lips are colder than mine; our … Continue reading →