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Thabang Ngoma Poem
A natural selection of beauties
The feminization of a superior species
The modernization of an ancient goddess
For she's feline and therefore devine, nothing less
A lioness out on the prowl
Hear her roar, fear her growl
Her whiskers are the flutter of a moth
Feeding on the sweet nectar of death
Her death stare is a constant horizon
The perfect sunrise and a beautiful sunset
An imperious lock upon a battered landscape of fear
The silent night to those who dare enter her lair
Her roar is the flight formation of circling vultures
Pure madness escaping the caves of a barbaric culture
Broadcasting the chaotic reign of a savage kingdom
In which she lives on the chase for the flourish of her queendom
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2018
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Thabang Ngoma Poem
Your beautiful melody echoes the corridors of hell
Deep beneath the seabed where betrayed men fell under your spell
From the love your forked tongue, does tell
From your cold heart where it remains an imprisoned cell
Washed ashore, my dissolved essence litters the beach sand
Here, my wreckage of a life makes its last stand
The bitter sting of your crocodile tears resuscite a will to live
From a wiped happiness that took a deep dive
When I was unwittingly lured to the smoke of your purple island
On my journey to bigger and better things to faraway lands
I dreamt of an escape from your squared, watertank into the light
To open waters, where I long to swim with other great whites
To you, my existence is awkward and criminal
My unconvential beliefs, irrational
So, blessed with my many cursed children
Soon to grow and leave as fit men from the clan
Ravenous to feed..overzealous for greed
And breed like dispersing seed
For unlike me..
They're born free
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2018
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Thabang Ngoma Poem
Her eyes are warning flags
Especially when they're smiling
They hold me intensely like pain inside her teardrops
And I'm hanging on to the cliffs of their waterfall
Because I don't ever want to see her cry
These pins and needles of brittle air I breath around her
Sew the torn shreds of my soul into a love supreme
She's the warm, soft ball of thread that remains
Whenever she takes my breath away
Because I need somebody to die for
Her heart's a roaring dragon's den
Glowing a love so pure and golden
For just an ounce she might be willing to share
I'll be the red heat in her conflagration
Just to feel her rush through my bloodstream
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2018
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Thabang Ngoma Poem
Shadows echo the darkness on the opaque wall
They penetrate the room like a pill in the air
Dropped into a glass full of cold memories
Made in the cool, chill of a haunted hill
A dry throat swallows the pale, still expression
Drowning in a sweat of its own liquid expansion
Knees turn to water along with the rest of him
Stripped to the bone into a toxic cocktail, he starts to dim
Into a fizz down their observant, gapping eye sockets
Absorbed in a fuss through the holes in his pockets
He's small change in their overblown, curious indifference
Dissolves into an invisible particle in his own self-defense
An outpouring mixture of nerves and tension grips his neck
His pounding heart's a tossed sack in his erupted chest of a wreck
His mind's in a blender of an upward - downward spiraling spin
Swept to the corner in a splendor of the flaming flakes of his own skin
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2018
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Thabang Ngoma Poem
My mind's a snail's trail winding down my throat
Glittering triumphantly over the mountain peaks of each day
A fragmenting centipede of dead ideas several years long
Constantly chasing its growing tale, that's come full circle
Trimming a slimy scenic garden path of fear and doubt
Through a fragile shell left completely exposed to any soulless sole
A slippery slope to reach the top shelf of the trophy carbinet
Clinging instead to the empty spaces of the wall calendar
Your days are numbered, why not just surrender, but I'm a winner!
You can wrist some minutes of business success because, truly only time will tell
But personally, I would like to rest a tombstone and leave a blank memory..
Of the colourless selouhette of your insipid mind, what a dull thought!
Don't let the dust from my ashes blind you to who I really am or was
Let the blowing wind carry me, for I'm truly not worth your tears of flesh
I'll stroke and then poke your liver, to get you laughing, and choke you on your snigger
While dancing on the ceiling with you, my lovely dinner..
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2018
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