Details |
Zodwa Thusi Poem
The first time we met he looked right past me, didn’t notice the breath almost escape my chest. didn’t notice how I was jumping into conversations and laughing shyly at a joke he didn’t even make, but he was shaped like my dreams and looked like my future husband, I am going to make him the one.
so who cares that he didn’t give me a good night call, or how he missed every moment to miss me, I am grown enough to miss myself everytime that feeling of being loved should creep in. the distant glance in his eyes whenever I am around is nothing more than a perfectly crafted concept of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, besides he resides within the depths of my soul.
Ill feed him with my very pride, strip it off my back lay it bare on a sunday night knocking on his door because a way to a man’s heart is through a women’s low self esteem. My hands shaking at a mere thought of the key turning for attention, I mean I know how he does not like surprises.
My path to happiness reaching a crossroad, his face pasted on the signage that reads Mr wrong, in the distance he sits on a throne, shooting my efforts in his mouth like porcon, a sign that he acknowledges my mere existence. I carve the word “right” with my blood and pour sweat on all my wishes.
Good girls don’t give up and strong woman must endure to one day feel a fraction of the love they deserve, I’ll turn this one to the one no matter how much tears drip from my broken heart.
Copyright © Zodwa Thusi | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Zodwa Thusi Poem
When I say I love you, it is because I do,but also its in hope that perhaps if I love you hard enough it will give me enough reason to love myself too . If someone can look at my flaws and decide that they are good enough to love, perhaps one day I will wake up and count my worth in thousands and maybe one day priceless.
There’s a thin thread holding my self esteem together, I thought it was a teenage phase but never having lost it with my virginity, I keep it rested above the guilt of letting it go.
I thought love and sex had the same meaning and I bought it as dirty as it was sold. Raised ugly I could not see the rosey on my cheeks and my walk never quite gained the bounce, have you seen the celulite on my thighs and the creeping stretch marks on my tummy, but anyway I live in hope that one day a prince charming would see a princess behind this duckling.
I never lost hope, I painted a portrait of my happy ending and burnt my flesh so much my skin turned thick, so I waved goodbye over and over again and ran a mile over and over because traditionally through my imperfections I could not bare anything but perfect. then I watched them judge me, perhaps because I gave them too much to sift through, but I have nothing to hide my ugly is see through anyway.
Loving people that don’t love me is all I’ve ever known, I will not allow anyone to compare the way I was raised just because their mother loved them. Pain is the only way I know and so I will allow to be hurt a thousand times if one day I wish to find my peace, through it all when I say I love you, I really do but also its in hope that perhaps if I love you hard enough it will give me enough reason to love myself too.
Copyright © Zodwa Thusi | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Zodwa Thusi Poem
They say you can not be both black and female,
you can only be one and dare you ever choose to be both,
what an abomination!.
If you choose to be female,
immediately you bleed from your uterus
and drape on that blood on Rosie cheeks and pink lips
curves of death, to die for.
the mirror is your best friend and pretty pink dresses
push up bras and at times hair from her, becky!,
hang around in groups of threes in hope that you all will sync, period.
now that is what a woman should be, politically correct.
have your dinner on a side plate and occasionally be the side dish,
because all you are is a compliment,
" you look pretty today"
rings in your ears the next day for today you try to be like yesterday,
Men take aim with their piss tools cocked in your direction,
sex slaved for those who wish to give it at the bottom of the hill
they can never climax.
painting and panting,
nipping and tucking,
blowing and smoking.
all that you have been told to be.
Smile!!!
But on the other hand, When you choose to be black,
you loose all sense of femininity,
you are rough around the edges and hard to swallow, so shallow.
you raise you fist in the air "amandla" and to his face amandla.
you are the go to girl when guys want to go to a girl because you are just one of the boys,
your Afro and bare face mean that you don't care enough to look in the mirror long enough to realize you have a vagina,
you are simply not woman enough because real woman know their place and ace the test of bearing rather than walking away,
an easier choice I guess.
A woman first than perhaps later you can tick the 'black' box on your resume just for statistics, control.
No wonder women take 3 times longer to get out of the bathroom than men , too many masks to put on and to many lies to make true to us before the world gets a chance to judge us... dare you step out the house as any other monkey... you are simply a barbie doll Toy....
Copyright © Zodwa Thusi | Year Posted 2016
|
Details |
Zodwa Thusi Poem
Do you ever miss me, ?Because I miss you missing me, try to emagine your heart yearning that my arms embrace you in our tomorrows promises, remember my kisses patter against your lips and be reminded that your blood boiled once from the heat of my bossom, I miss the call in the middle of the night when you miss my smile and wish my laughter be your lullabye, You whisper sweet nothings that mean everthing to me. I dance on street poles like a teenage crush carved on a park betch for the world deserves to know how you complete me
Laying awake at night for the sugar rush in my heart feels the need to count all my breaths before I awake, for no moment should ever pass me whilst living for you.
I miss the time when my existence was life and you acknowlegded my falling tears from a broken heart
I miss you missing me and all the things you will miss about not missing me. So I ask Do you ever miss me.
Copyright © Zodwa Thusi | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Zodwa Thusi Poem
There’s an elegance attached to the stride of a love poem entering the door, its subtle yet bold and makes the whole room turn and look at its beauty. It comes without an invitation but yet no one asks it to leave as it completes the room.
its draped in good morning kisses and goodnight text, it remembers that you are alive and in you its unmistakably loud, its a melody of never ending ballads that drifts you into deep thoughts in the middle of the day, its a friday night party that goes on till the dawn is sparked, hanging disco balls in a illuminating array of light a symphony of both thrill and worry for the music has no right to sorrow.
It comes with a message lingering on the tip of its tongue, a display of forever after smiles, hung on broken walls for its value lies in the confusion of its eyes, it never tells lies, lays its life story on the ground to let broken hearts know they can throw they guards down.
Its a surprise, though you have been waiting for it, you never quite expected it to show up, so at some point you stopped leaping in to the sky for the promise of a safe fall has since been evicted
You sit on the table with that bitter poem who is now your closest friend, watching all those hate poems try to mingle with all those racist poems, a sonnet serves you a dark drink with the hope of a good time, you run your daily tab for payment is in self judgement and hatred and demands to whoever dares to listen. you slam your thoughts against these words day in and out.
Until it walks in, suddenly the clouds clear up, and the sun shines, birds start singing and butterflies, well you get the idea but that is how you know, A love poem has just entered the room.
Copyright © Zodwa Thusi | Year Posted 2017
|