Home » Poems » Best » Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo » Best Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poems

Best Poems Written by Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo

Below are the all-time best Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

Paint Me White and I Will Still Be Black

You can paint me white and I will still be black 
Turn my ebony black hair, make sure the chemicals 
Touch every strand of my hair, erasing all trace of 
My pitch black kaffir but I will still be black.
Teach me how to walk, tell me what to wear
You can even show me your version of
Civilisation yet I will still be black .
Teach me your language, let me master
The vocabulary, the pronunciation but remember,
I will still be black 
Literature, science, physics,decency...yes yes
Fill that in my head puncture your history in the depths
Of me and feed me with your lies but I will still be black
Tell me I'm wrong for my awareness, threaten me with
Prison and even with my life...yes yes 
Persecute me with your words but still I will
Be black no no I will not be a slave nor will
I be less than a human being. My rights
Will be intact and my freedom a shall be won
Because with all you have done, all you think you have
Taught me in your attempt to make me whit..o
During the process of you painting me white!!
I am..I am still black and concious, I am still black
And proud...I am the descendant of that old slave still
That man you would flog all day till there was no more 
Flesh left to be torn, the descendant of that wrinkled
Woman you would forcefully penetrate for years on end
I am that young boy, that young girl you stole away from their 
Families as though their hearts were just mere illusion
I am black and aware of that man you 
Assassinated simply because he cried "freedom"
Steve Biko , Chris Hani, King Albert Luthuli, 
MartinLuther King and Malcom X I am
Sure  you have heard those names
I am the black daughter of that woman you
Disgraced and twisted.I am black 
A black young woman at the peak of her life
Embracing hee struggle felt history
Preparing for the history to be made again 

So, even if you paint me white, burn my hair
With your toxins, dress me like a doll
Tell me how to walk, talk, sit and even eat...
I will still be black as I have a free mind.

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

Introduction To Me

I am who you would never think,
what you would never believe,
who you could never define.
I am what I want to be, I am 
who my heart desires most  to be, 
an adapter to all environments...
I am an African child with curves as full 
as can be, tall as a model in heels,
brown skin glowing radiantly
through the suns rays.
I am an African child, 
I speak my heritage and i live
my  culture, i breath my Africa...
I am...I am Mbali, Mbalenhle Easily translated 
from my mother tongue to the  western
as Flower, Beautiful Flower...
I am Africa. I am an African poetess

Words flourish within me and ooze
out through my pen,blossoming on my paper
Heart filled with love,passion and pride
Mbalenhle...Beautiful Flower is who I am

I am an African poetess!

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

Emotion

I fail to see the emotion in 
your eyes...that I love you that make 
strong woman weak and weak woman 
strong. 
I fail to see the emotion in your
eyes,That,That I love you utter seems
All too vague and shallow...Your heart racing,
palms sweating,unable to look me straight in 
the eye...yet... I fail to see the emotion in your 
eyes. Guess I must be too distracted
by the movement in your pants
Even as you move left and right,sway up and down
its all too clear
I fail to see the emotion in your eyes as that,that erect,solid
unnamed  gets clearer...brother please tell me,have you climaxed 
yet??
I fail to see the emotion in your eyes,as lust
is all over your face
please dear,give me a chance
to dress my naked body in that mind of yours
I fail to see the emotion in your eyes as from afar
the stench of lust caught my attention.

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

Just Remember

Remember to thank the Lord,
for while you lay sheltered in your warm 
blankets and stable roof,they lay shivering
blanketed by the harsh winds,sheltered by 
what one could ever refer to as home.
As you arise to that warm bath,that hot coffee
and that flavorful mouth watering breakfast
they are listening to the sound of their 
growing tummies melodically crying out in hunger
relishing even that bone left over by a dog.

remember to thank the Lord,
for the troublesome child you bore
for their tears have turned to blood,
crying...hoping for their next child to 
live longer than a month.
Thank him for the mother in torn clothes
who bore,loved and cared for you
as many lay in streets,bottles
and in graveyards...murdered and 
abandoned.

once again,remember to thank the Lord
for the family that nags and shouts
ever so frequently...trying to lead you not
astray while their clothes are stripped
off by their uncles.grandfathers,brothers and
even fathers,
their backs are shredded by never ending 
lashes...the brutality of a parent,betrayal
of relatives...the greed for money that ends the life of 
a six year old...programming her professionally
for an exploited,drugged prostituted life

So next time you feel your life
a mess,your hair a tangle and shoes
wasted and old
next time you think you are poor
and will be bitter about it
just remember to thank the lord for 
you are blessed and they are yet 
to be saved!!

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

I Saw You With Her

For years and days I have given my soul
naively believing I was loved and appreciated.
For minutes and seconds my heart pulsated in the 
rhythm of yours...eternity was what I lived in Every hour spent 
with you
promise of love, the promise of honesty, a diamond heart I held 
or so I thought...Delicately your heart buried deep within my chest, protected against all heart break, sorrows and pains 
while mine was worn a sleeve, simply letting the grime and dirt, pollute
my train of thought, letting each and every hand that laid on you bruise my being!
Ignorant yet still I remained, willingly living in my very own
fairy tale when reality came crushing down and my ignorance
scattered, naive was I no longer the day I saw you with her.
Your muscular arms wrapped tightly around her body, chemistry 
of never wanting to let go lingered above,
Your tender lips locking in with her, exchanging not only the fluid
but the soul I thought I had exchanged with you, 
Your smile as you looked into her eyes, they seemed another dimension to create for you, as I watched you get lost in the story they told.
I saw you with her, our passionate moments flooding on our bed...only this was not a memory and I was not in those moments created.
Your angelic voice uttering words I thought only my ears would be blessed at hearing.
I saw you with her, Heard you with her, My thoughts tainted by the visuals of your body on hers, her lips on yours.
My heart wripped apart, that moment felt as if the ripper had just sucked my soul from right under my nose, am I still standing? Thought I felt my body collapse at the tone of you whispering sweet nothings into her ears...life is no longer life as I am now walking dead.
I saw you with her, felt you heart beating for her...saw the end of myself from afar...the destruction of me you have completed. Thought I was the only one blessed with the utterances of that gentle "I love you". Foolish enough to believe years mean life.
I left you with her.

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

When a Brother Moves

Black motion, rhythm of his 
heart pounds through his
feet, the never ending thoughts flooding
all blood streams...clogs formed deep 
within his body. Pulse beyond faint 
as the sweat drowns it all under.

When a brother moves, he moves 
with chains, dragging a thousand ton 
rock pulling him down, yet still, he carries on.
When a brother move, he floats lightly on his feet, 
avoiding any eye contact for with a single
glance...automatically he becomes criminal.
When a brother moves it's as though he
moves with a big red X marked on his forehead,
he is the target of death, death lingers not
far from where he strides.

Black elegance, intelligence, his brain ever flowing
with ideas yet seems shackles further imprison
him, halting him from success, his love, his pride.
His pure heart stained, tainted, poisoned with
hate each and everytime he seems to open his heart
to black women.

When a brother moves you need not look 
back to notice, for mother earth surely shall
bring attention to him for all to envy at a single
flick. 
When he speaks the wind carries his voice to your soul
The sun, a reflection of his smile...the moon, his
eyes they carry.
When a brother moves all hell breaks loose.
The heavy pounding of his heart eases as the
thumping of his feet escalates 
for when a brother moves...even with a thousand
years of hardship upon his shoulders, he still 
stands tall and strong for the strength of him
runs from the earths roots directly into his veins.
That is when a brother moves!!

Details | Mbalenhle Lyca Khumalo Poem

This Is the Love I Have For You

Wrip my soul apart, tear 
me into a thousand pieces, 
enslave my ind and shackle 
my heart, for that...that
"I love you" once sang has stuck 
beyond the depths of my soul

Shatter my dreams, disgrace and 
humiliate my entire being, let the tears 
flow from my eyes as they gradually 
mix with my  blood, turning my once
white and sparkly eyeballs into 
a sickening fiery red.

Penetrate deep within my body,
letr me know...let me feel that beast
within you. Scatter my thoughts and 
hypnotize my every step, for that...
that "I miss you" that melodically
oozes out of your lips erases all 
thought of sorrows inflicted and an absence
of many days on end

This, this is the love I have for you.
Toxic but all too wonderful...
Overpowered by your smile and taken adrift 
by your voice, entangled deep within your 
claws, that firm musculant grip
imprisoning me.
This, this is the love I have for you,
toxic yet all too wonder