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Best Poems Written by Zoleka Mannie

Below are the all-time best Zoleka Mannie poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Leaves and Garden

When we plant a leaf,
we do not think where its life will come from.
We go counting and rejoicing our loves effort,
because at some point,
we think there is a turning point to this wheel.

There is this unexpected desire.
We are told that love is solid when it is chilled.
It quickly turns liquid
and we find ourselves with air that has wings.

Cosmic loneliness travels on the strongest hands.
They say "when the world hears you loud and clear,
become little again and wash your mortal face."
I heard "tremble with the sea and cover your little shades."

They have also told me to wait and steam my truth,
Evaporate into an easier accent, whatever that means.
Authentically searching for beauty,
One should not wait to yield the rising sun when
the moveless imaginations become real.

Trees that rest on the same metal as the waters
borrow gardens from the universe to be themselves.
And they remember to descend from outrage
when planting a leaf: a humble plant that listens to the news.

These are the news, title "an eternal cosmic heartbreak."
Bones begin to chant in one pure voice.
Why is a faith noise that transcends into a broken figure?
A substance without fruit with a Godly
understanding of how the rain bathes.

When we love we visit our lover`s inner realms.
We move our lips to roots and manifest our worth
until we restore unknown museums, drinking all the waters.
Listening to orchestra`s sing the ether out until we lose our breaths.


Leaves and Garden, Published 2019 by Active Muse. Also available in my book Talk Like a Painting: Social Apes Trilogy.

Active Muse:link:


Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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You aren’t allowed to look into my eyes
And find my shades of brown.
To span into my inseparable planets and walk
on their landscape if you cannot stand your ground.

To articulate my soul’s horizons and expect the
tribes of my heart to identify with the warriors of your smiles.
You have mounted prints on my skin that
I cannot allow you to be on a desperate pursuit.

We are walking on celestial miles.

This distance is an eternal migration. A surreal outrage.
A magazine clipping holding our narrative
Of how we could be more ancient.

If we are humanity, then this our homage.
This desire can’t be understood by any traditional language.
I dance in the aromas of your paranoid fears.
Repress our super-life in hopes to meditate in our under-life.

Be in my reincarnations and leave me in
Suspense of what has been hidden.
This prehistoric jungle is visible.
Collect the heritage of our abstract wildlife
And try to stop the waterfalls of my being.

Because I like wondering what you are talking about
With my mind’s paintings.
You aren`t allowed to know my tree’s crown

But keep describing the sunlight by always watering and kissing me.


Amazon Link:

Firstly Published on 2019 by Outcast Magazine
Outcast Mag link:

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Light of Blackness

Humpty Dumpty was Egyptian.
Hampered with mental genocide
and in this evolution there
seems to be no hope for the black human.

A tribal extinction.
Describe a culture
that is as urgent
without draining
your energy with anger.

Easily more captured.

It takes privilege to be present.
In this land,
digging for the past
should not take man to prison.

Where is your wealth if I stopped hating myself?
Where is your wealth if I stopped hating myself?


Unpublished, 2019

I played around with the aesthetic and personality of a cannon. I had imagined or compared the sudden incident to "race". We are in a war but even in war there is more love, more sacrifice. Seems like our lack of responsibility is why we have succeeded in taking apart humanity in a way.

However, there is hope to break down this system "when he falls down", those who were loyal to using the weapon also fell. Maybe this is how race ends, by perceiving genderlessm colourless persons which would be the next generation and the next evolution. Like Humpty Dumpty, we need a a great fall of egos, pride, of greed, bad energies to balance our pieces, "the conscious." and taking care of it.

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Outer sun

Honestly, I am so in my feels today. If you are reading this, my love extends to you. Ok, lets goo... I wrote some of this poem outside. I am writing outside more often, exploring my body with my literature. The nature, agriculture here feels blissful, (you), yes YOU should come visit if you need some nature feels in your life when it is safe.


17 October 2020, Mpumalanga (Nelspruit).

We walked out of the sun.
While growing the paint of his absence 
I missed the brushstrokes of his brightness.
I attempted to grab the eclipse. 
The presence grew on me that I swept our land
but when we spoke, 
a cosmopolitan tongue glows when
it reaches home but when he drinks water... 
My body praises his hymn in forests. 
I see how these rays are of another life. 
Maybe the Earth decorates better when it rains
but I need discipline to only have his thirst. 
My anorexic scent, depth that dampens my breaths
As if protecting my climate, 
his heartbeat travels into my indigeneous driveways 
but while I wait, 
all I can do is blow a wish to our stars. 

Yet this time apart pulls me to naked quiet. 
Deep and inside his gaze,
We understood and walked back inside our sun. 

Here is a link to my book, you share yours? cool.


Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Whose got the whole world in its hands?
Whose got the whole world in its hands?

It is shocking that the world is in these hands.
A tough pill to swallow of arguments
that causes the family tree to collapse.
The global economy and the technologies,
a population lacking all emotional intelligence
dating back to the histories of immense abyss 
but at least the horror feels better.

Whose got the whole world in its hands?
Whose got the whole world in its hands?

A poverty of capitalist consequences and the world
keeps all the chaos and thinks
to not make room for peace.
Lying to the public,
standing on the podium of tragedy
wearing the same greed in a black suit.
These palms read threats but
have no ambition to reach recovery.

Whose got the whole world in its hands?
Whose got the whole world in its hands?
Boredom has got the whole in its hands.

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Basic Waters

There is a water shortage.
A problem the moon shines 
to introspect its tides
and how they can become still
with or without the clouds.

I forgive the engineered outrage.
Attracting everything but 
rhythm because to flow
is to sleep next to a hut
thatched with growth.

While the children 
in the village no longer
need to chew corn
or drain milk from cows
for nature or for their people.

No need to carry buckets of water
or language in long distances
that they forget The Alphabet,
Speaking rivers and 
lakes of a lost youth.

An unprotected innocence,
choosing for this thirst 
to be satisfied with a new system.
Too many missing words
in all our constitutions.

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Behind the Shelf

Walk over the open desert.
I still remember the clouds, the symbols.
How they rest in their high romance
living to teach the truth until it sinks
into a beautiful nothingness.

Pure minds sustain universes.
The spirit is aesthetic.
No less but more is enough but imagine it
distinct from being.

To be a phase in question and reason to an end.
Trusting a change, watching it love me.
Telling myself to not create with my ego
for the desire to be God is a fake identity.

Feels easier to plagiarise your own soul.


Unpublished, 2019

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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The Blackyard

(Dawn Chorus)

It was in Africa
that I learned to sing my love the loudest 
and in the dawn of the Chorus,
Black love communicates acoustically.

Even if the day breaks,
it serenades all territories.
Feathered friends in the neighborhood
can only be heard by planting a tree.

He nests on my spots.
Black leaves harvest seeds
and rustling branches
have a deep aesthetic.

Rootly singing...
Sometimes melancholic
with rhythms so pleasant,
living outside a fractured moment.


Unpublished, 2019

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Happy birthday to all Scorpios. It is our season, I hope the transformation has been fruitful. I recently came out of a toxic relationship and I wrote this on this on the 28th of October 2020. Everything in my life is rapidly happening exactly how I manifested it. Truthfully speaking, I am peaceful, in love, and choosing happiness.

Reborn into nature we float,
Reborn are these dreams,
I dance to drink.
To my soul
have mercy on my thirst
Let this love sing,
help me work on channeling my light
that I no longer
need to 
about how unconditional
I have been.
If this is not for the heart to stay
maybe finally my heart is complete,
from responding to 
how I really feel.

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020

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Sunbeam souls

Date:8 October 2020

The Sunbeams pass
slamming the door to a heartbeat.
A generational rejection 
to my face that softens my feet
while I cringe on more notes.

An evolution that has
declined, suppose I curl 
my spine towards
an endless beauty 
of highly stylized  wrinkles.

The more I witness.
the fierceness of my tribe ages.
The angry men that I have raised
as rocks seek my eyes and tribulations.
Take me to a timeless peace.

Dissolving into another,
bridging the breathing has
taught me to harvest better energies
as I pay my daydreams 
until we meet.

I have felt unknown shivers
in these streets.
Raising the parenthood 
of all these teenage feels but still 

he found a way to move into my soul.

Copyright © Zoleka Mannie | Year Posted 2020