Sense4MyThots

Oh, you will forgive me I was not brainwashed with the glorification of men that the rest of society has, for I grew up with a woman who procured and provided everything these men are revered no, Praised for; Stability.  Security.  Sanctity.  Authority.  Pride  and Dignity. So no Sir, your manhood, your masculinity doesn't phase me. It stirs nothing but pity for your disillusioned species. A reminder of your impending redundance. By: | Ndalwentle Makunga |

I'm exhausted, so tired from societies tried and tested lies of middle classism. I'm sick and tired of seing black men and women in luxurious fur coats, coats slaughtered from livestock we used to own. With every dead beast is a dead beat black family,  landless, hopeless. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. Overworked and underpaid,  yet my jewels would remind you of Pharaohs,  as if this were a God's next life, only my jewels are dept, violence and addiction. A life with no purpose,  but filled with bible quotes about salvation.  Point me to the promised land,  point me to where being black is golden, where black children grow up without ever worrying about their next meal. " But you sure complain alot ", they say. And I, frustrated, respond; " I am merely a tool chosen by God to speak of nothing but the truth ". Sleepless nights, like humans in streets,  only I have warm blankets to cover me from this cold world. We're not so diff...

As much as I'm a pessimist, I've still somehow retained the ability to find silver linings. Let's take the youth for example, impulsive careless, reckless lives lived without thought of consequences, lack of foresight, this is what they or we are described as. And yes all these things have their setbacks, some of which can be eternally scaring. Perhaps I've lived on the other side of the spectrum too long but I admire this. They know a life without second guessing, a freedom that comes with this so called recklessness, they don't sit for hours contemplating the possible outcomes and scenarios that could result from their probable actions. They know happiness, whether it is stolen, or momentary, or followed by harsh consequences they're familiar with the zeal of joy. A spade is a garden tool and not an object that could potentially harm them. They try things, which could go wrong and often they do, but so are the odds for every single thing on Earth, the...

SHOULD I HAVE DIED? When he smouldered me with ‘ love ’ And isolated me from my family and friends When claps, fists and knives came out, I ask the question, Should I have died? When verbal abuse and sceptical jealousy Surfaced until I forgot who I am and what I stand for When my cell phones, my car and my furniture got smashed, When every woman in the vicinity knew him intimately, And laughed at me secretly. Some hounded me with phone calls When I lived in fear not sure if I'd still be alive in the next sunrise. Out of the random physical abuse I endured. I ask again, Should I have died? When he changed women like he changed his undies, Right under my nose introducing them as friends and relatives. When he brought home his gifts from different women. When I had to bail him from jail because of his brawls and uncontrollable rage Hell NOOO…..!!!! Here I am, thank God I had the guts to remove myself from that hellhole. By: SandMak

i dug myself a hole with no easy way to escape.   i don't have the shovel down here with me  and i don't know how to get out.  the thing is that there are people above ground  who know i'm around/alive but don't know that i'm in a hole. i want to call out but when i try  (or at least mean to)  the words vibrate up my throat  and by the time they're meant to leave my lips,  they mask themselves as deep sighs, or change to the automated response of "i'm okay" or go silent. and i sit here,  in the hole,  and it rains more often than not  and there's mud and things crawling out and my skin is cold and numb,  and i pluck at myself,  hoping that physical pain reawakens the part that has died inside of me  and i've become so afraid of disturbing other people's lives and i've convinced myself that i deserve this  and i will let this hole consume me. ...

Carry me home, return me to the ocean , to the warm embrace of icy waters. Let him swallow me whole, fill my lungs with the substance vital for all existence. Capsize all that encapsulates disorder. Carry me home, immerse me in its purity, It's transparency, the only way to filter out all my feculence is for Poseidon to let the ocean engulf me. Return me to the ocean, the caress of his waves to me, has always been soothing his arms the origin of my entity. Gushing waves my only source of serenity.  Carry me home,  I'm beyond fatigued, ultimately rest is all I seek. By: Ndalwentle Makunga

I feel like I’m painting a masterpiece for an audience of blind people... Always fascinated by what hovers above us, As a kid,  planes are what caught my eye, As a teen, adolescence is what got me high, But these days I’m drawn into what lies in the clouds and beyond . Telescoping,  Trying to find the centre of the Earth, So I place my chair in an observatory Sit down and stare; Look at the contradictions we lay upon ourselves... Look at the existence of mankind living under appalling conditions... Living a life held together by stitches..  Look at the kids that get boozed up and lose their self-respect just to spite their parents... I ask of nothing but for you to look at death with the eyes of the blind... Touch it. Feel it. Caress it . Because you’ll never see it unless it’s lying in an open casket. A sad sight ive already seen, I often see how people get torn between being bad to do good and speaking lies t...