Living?

Sometimes living feels like
singing but too loud,
talking but indecipherable,
dancing with chains round the ankles
of two left feet;

caring but too much,
waiting too long,
leaving too soon,
never enough,
ever too much;

the loner:
a welcome presence in a crowd,
simultaneously languishing in singularity;

an unwilling oddity,
surrounded by normal,
good people;
I am engulfed
in their beautiful sanity.

The extraterrestrials landed long ago.

I am one of them.

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Copyright © 2022 Tebogo Ndlovu

Ways Of The Soul

I understand now,why hearts shatter in the middle of the night,in the shade of darknesswhere there is no hopeof spectatorscoming to intrude on the truthof a telling sadness. I understand whyit’s impossible to talkwith that lump in the throat,wading in …

Similar Miseries

We both bleed orange when the car swings down the driveway,search for bandaidsto conceal evidence,dive underneath a cozy bundle of excuses,reasons to continue to sharesimilar miseries. Siblings in distress,bonded by chaos,dread in colour. Maybe, together,we will eventually find territoryon which …

Mr. Time’s Waltz

Before you go,
sit here.
Explain.

Is it time to go back
-again
to the awkwardness of strangerhood?
To stop missing each other
until we wish we needed ‘us’
-again?
To entertain the curves of infinity,
the one they thought reaches forward endlessly,
only for him to return to the clutches of her who wants him,
him who retreats from the embrace of nature,
only to stride back
-again?

Sit here.
Pretend.
Humour her
with the promise of now.

All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2022 Tebogo Ndlovu

Before The After

People who are on their way there… have a look to them,a determination,a refreshing naivety…They strut the walk of hope,the spark we love to see.They inspire within usa little more trust in humanity,their innocence pervading every annoyance with life. They …

Random Thoughts: Pretending I Knew A Famous, Dead Stranger

I once watched a movie which depicted the life of a painter… The painter, described by the Internet as ‘morally skittish’, left his family behind for a carefree, Tahitian existence. If I remember correctly, the painter had a friend who …

Mother/Daughter

I am not rebel nor pioneer,I have not sliced through the serpent’s bellyand climbed outwith its heart still beatingat the tip of my penknife. I will not cross oceans for younor capture the moonin exchange for your heart. I am …

The Spirit and The Beloved

…more than to be happy:to be loved;across all divides,within all silence,in all invalid mistakes punctuatingthe principle of honour:to be loved to infinity;as seen by each blindspot that maylive within a wish:to belong;aside from all validation:to be loved. All Rights ReservedCopyright …

Gentle Reminder (Counting Blessings)

In the middle of a winter so coldants no longer cross stone floorsto execute their handiwork,sleep finds the most restless minds,whispers in the tone of Luck,“…you’re not in Gehenna,wrestling with the Goliaths of your hey dayon a loop’til beyond the …