Sunday 10 June 2012

take it as you like-

What are we; humans? What does that even mean?
"I hear babies cry and I watch them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll ever know."
We have all this intelligence that we dont understand,
We know what is right but we do what we want anyway.

The world is a lonely place and we live such solitary lives-forcing ourselves to socially partake in social situations but we go home to empty homes to empty rooms and sit alone on the toilet.
We spend months prepping ourselves for things we wont even enjoy/
We convince ourselves that pain is beauty...

A flower doesnt suffer, it knows it is a flower and so enjoys what it is but we; humans(?), because of our own suffering, selfishly destroy by plucking probing anf proding. A stone is a stone and accpets its density.
It doesn't challenge its strength.
But we; humans(?) attack with them, making them violent.

What are we; humans(?) what does that even mean-
It means we're lost and confused.

holga_holiday_007.jpg
http://www.benhanbury.com/blog/2008/05/17/holga/

We think we're bettering ourservels by aquiring knowledge
when in actuality we are comlivating the process, the natural order, the circle of existence.

Life could be so easy if we just let it
be..
But we dont, we wont, we cant.
We think we have it all figured out but if someone asked, "who are you," would you recite a bunch of credential, list your lineage, your name, your family tree?

Flowers are flowers and stones are stones.
But we are mammals, man-kind, males and females, children-adults-pentioners.
We are smart and dumb, active and lazy, sluts and prudes, pagons and believers, commoners and drifters, elitists and others--

Why cant we simply be,

living breathing creations of Creation?

Monday 4 June 2012

5th time lucky

African people have been ridiculed for decades. Saartje Baartman was kidnapped and presented across Europe as a grosteque southern african savage. African dance has been described as barbaric and the art primitive.
I want to-not apologise but-bring to your attention that I may be carrying the anger of my forefathers when addressing this. I find myself blinded by grotesque savage barbaric primitive rage when people criticise the African culture of polygomy.

Sudies have concluded that just over 50% of all marriages end in divorce. Of those 75% remarry only to get divorced again. The 60% of the divorced-remarried-divorcees try again. And again. And one more time for good measure. By the time some of these licentious lovers die they have wed 4/5 times. Now tell me, how is that better than a man who marries 5 women and stays with them all 'til death they part? Don't get me wrong I don't appriciate polygomy just as much as I detest divorce. But how can we ridicule one, who technically stays faithful and keeps to his vows yet no judgement is passed for the other who gave up because statistics premeditated it. It seems like a case of the thief calling the hijacker croocked. We're being hypocrites, spouse-swapping hypocrites..

"I'm the Queen of the castle and you're the dirty rascals"

Mduli, Cele, Sexwale, Mac Maharaj, Zille and many more. More than enough to talk about 'til the cows used as lobola for Zuma's umteenth wife come home. But before another hopeful journalist takes a shot at the sleeping giant that is our countries infrastructure, a refreshing change in walter-cooler talk should be explored.

It seems the editors of Sunday Times feel the Queens Jubilee is more first-page worthy that the building of vital schools in Limpopo. No, lets not stop there; lets dedicate an entire section of the paper to a royal family that is not ur own.
In the fear of being hunted down and assasinated by the Britsh bobbys let me explain. The Queens Jubilee is the crown that broke the camels back. It is a metaphor for the reasin why our nation, and so many struggling nations continue to suffer. It began with the 1820 settlers who drove the western culture. A culture that is not our own. A culture that we continue to religiously cling to. We're allowed our perception of beauty o be defined by their skewed sense . Welve twisted our tongues attempting to impersonate their pompous language-rejecting our natural vernacular because we define our sucess by their standards.

Research shows South Korea began developing at quantam rates onces they ditched the language of the chav and communicated in their native tongue. I've recently been converted to the belief that language, and ultimately culture, hold the key to the a nations progression. We cannot avoid the overwhelming feat of tackling 11 official languages but lessening the master narrative english dictates would be a start. It's heartbreaking watching perfectly capable students, workers too, stumbling through sentances. These people kniw what they want to say but they literally cant because language limits them. Similarly; motivated learners losing hope because they are not only trying to grasp the content of wha is being taught but they are also expected to navigate through terms and jargon they have nver hard amoungst words foreign by at least 2 tongues.

SA, lets stop shooting ourselves in the foot with imported guns. Lets put down the magazines full of women with no hips, no lips and a plain complexion. Lets trade afternoon tea for a night around the fire; ma tellung African folk tales about Dyakalashe. As opposed to smaking a,"Poudly South African" sticker on everything lets actually live it. And celebrate it. As opposed to blowing out the candles for someone elses Ouma.



(taken from google)

Sunday 3 June 2012

seeing God in people

i got paid the nicest compliment today; she said I didnt contend.
                                                           she said I didnt have to be good enough 'cos I'm already the best.

she said, "I'm telling you Inga; even though you dont belong
                                              you'll find love in the galaxy,            all in His arms"

Yesturday was a beutifully delicicous experience. Dining on laughs upon layers of fallen leaves. It was decadent, under the night sky slitterered with sparkling kisses. The cold hugged our bodies so tight our limbs were gasping for warm air. Me and my friend flew high. Above the dead grass abd selfish trees denying the leaves; their loves, their nutrients. We went there. We got there. And we feasted there;
Upon thoughts of time entiwined in Gods fingers.
Eternity enlocked in Her golden tresses.
Love Bursting from her smile.

God is beautiful, and we saw Her in the stars tonight