Men are a damn lie. I mean I am stunned by the ability of some people to look you in the eye and proceed to lie to you. I'm tired of loving with my hands outstretched because no one knows what to give me. All I know is that love is not an empty house, do not make me feel lonely with your presence. I am not a bit-lover I go the whole way. Rather get scars from having fully run the race you know.
I am not a lady in love. I love with purpose and determination and my God with so much ease. I don't know what to do with a man who leaves in the winter, I'm also just now learning how to stay. Nomadic spirits cannot build a home.
You don't want anyone to be with me yet you don't know how to treat me. I'm a simple girl - honesty, openness, affection, fidelity. No bad habits let me be both your virtue and vice. If that proves to be too much then knock next door, I heard that house is lonelier than I am - and you have a thing for howling houses don't you?
Monday, February 11, 2013
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Not really gone
I have been hiding in the shadows of life, not intentionally but more out of necessity.
Do you know how tiring it is to be prayerful and powerful and still remain fearful. That has been me my darlings...
Let’s see I last updated about 9 months ago (maybe) I have fallen in love a few times since then. It has all been glorious and God-filled but it has not been permanent. I’m still searching for someone who will look at me and see that I need this sadness and melancholy that clings to my body, it’s not contagious though, just necessary to fuel my writing.
There’s this guy who holds my hand when we fall asleep and kisses my shoulder and neck and forhead and palm of my hand. I don’t think he knows how “welcome home” that feels, I’m scared to tell him because all my exes have treated me like train station not destination, what if he leaves. As you can see I absolutely have the potential to talk myself out of loving someone or them out of loving me, I am a strange woman. His name means Joy and I don’t even think he understands just how much of it he brings to me, seconds please.
My career has also taken shape, I am writing and if I could see my 8 year old self now I would shake that nerds hand and tell her never to curb her curiosity. God is indeed kind and merciful. We have lived, we have loved and damn it we have survived.
Do you know how tiring it is to be prayerful and powerful and still remain fearful. That has been me my darlings...
Let’s see I last updated about 9 months ago (maybe) I have fallen in love a few times since then. It has all been glorious and God-filled but it has not been permanent. I’m still searching for someone who will look at me and see that I need this sadness and melancholy that clings to my body, it’s not contagious though, just necessary to fuel my writing.
There’s this guy who holds my hand when we fall asleep and kisses my shoulder and neck and forhead and palm of my hand. I don’t think he knows how “welcome home” that feels, I’m scared to tell him because all my exes have treated me like train station not destination, what if he leaves. As you can see I absolutely have the potential to talk myself out of loving someone or them out of loving me, I am a strange woman. His name means Joy and I don’t even think he understands just how much of it he brings to me, seconds please.
My career has also taken shape, I am writing and if I could see my 8 year old self now I would shake that nerds hand and tell her never to curb her curiosity. God is indeed kind and merciful. We have lived, we have loved and damn it we have survived.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Somalia and her apathetic audience
Last week I took Twitter user @Sentletse to task for tweeting that South Africa need not bother giving Swaziland aid because Somali’s were starving. I tweeted back “there are starving people in Swaziland as well”, we tweeted back and forth about this and after I logged off Twitter I read up on the situation in the Horn of Africa and I was shamed. My stomach has been in knots since.
I have been obsessing over what I can do to make a difference, even if it is to one child, one mother, one family, how can I alleviate the plight of a desperate nation. Even if it is to raise awareness through a blog. Even if it is to harass people to look up and care. It rained alot in Big Bend, Swaziland yesterday and I was anxious about whether it would stop and when it did I became anxious about whether it would return.
He was right to compare, if only to highlight how urgently Somalia needs Africa to hold them. I am an African and I don’t apologise for the fact that my face matches the soil, I celebrate it. But for as long as I can remember I have always had to defend it. It struck me that these beautiful Somali people have been reduced to begging for international aid on their home ground, you’d think it would be readily given. However mutterings of pirates and kidnappings are punctuating the speech of foreign countries that look on. This is how they rationalise not being quick with sending aid.
I hate that issues such as these are often whittled down to race, but you cannot ignore the fact that Japan received aid, Haiti did not or that New Orleans, a predominantly black area still bears the scars of Hurricane Katrina. Somali poet/writer Warsan Shire asked, why does the world seem to believe that suffering goes well with brown faces?
I’ve been nervous about looking at the images of the effects of the drought and famine in Somalia. I’ve read about a woman who lost her children while walking to find food. I’ve read about a woman who could not produce breast milk for her infant son because she herself was malnourished. A mother’s instinct is to nurture and to protect, but how do you do this when nature is unkind?
I have been obsessing over what I can do to make a difference, even if it is to one child, one mother, one family, how can I alleviate the plight of a desperate nation. Even if it is to raise awareness through a blog. Even if it is to harass people to look up and care. It rained alot in Big Bend, Swaziland yesterday and I was anxious about whether it would stop and when it did I became anxious about whether it would return.
No water in Somalia, no food in Somalia but we’re terrified of the pirates. These are Africans, these are our people and they need our assistance – 2 sides of the same coin, one heavy with fear the other laced with compassion. I’m not asking that people go on a fast but I am asking for you to care. Care enough to imagine their suffering as your own and then finding out what you can do to help from wherever you are.
I can’t rationalise apathy, I can’t be comfortable with complacency. Do something. Pray for rain and resilience for the Horn of Africa, food and fight for Somalia and her people. Sitting makes me nervous and anxious and it isn’t making the knots in my stomach go away.
If you’re in South Africa you can call Gift of Givers on this toll free number 0800-786-777.
Long time loves
I have been thrilled and simultaneously shamed by the world I live in - the turtle-like speed with which the crisis in Somalia is being handled makes me nervous. The blonde, blue-eyed, Christian gunman who opened fire in Norway and how the media has no idea what to do with this information because the man doesn't fit the description they've calved out for villains. If he had a turban and prayed to Allah there might have been a greater uproar from the US, maybe even an invasion on his home country. If he had brown skin it might have been twisted to justify why the help to Somalia is so slow in transpiring, because blacks are bad. Ah God's earth and her people shame me.
I wish I felt less but I come from a line of people who empathise as easily as they draw breath. My grandfather keeps a journal to this day and writes in it every single day, I have words too, though I may misuse them from time to time, they are always there to express my outrage at the things we've accepted as commonplace.
Yesterday I said that I acknowledge that sometimes I'm too serious for 23, I'm working on it. How can I not be serious and ashamed when I can't look Earth in the eye?
Love and ease to all you beauties. I've missed flooding your timelines with my ramblings :)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
No. 6
It took me a long time to say that “I deserve to be loved”
I had to go through a street lined with men who knew too much about carnal pleasure
And not enough about love
Men who thought having more than me on his arm was necessary, was a symbol of his manhood
I’ve had to go through men who collected hearts like stones on a pebbled beach
Men who didn’t know how to talk to me
Who thought I’d answer when they called me variations of “bitch”
Men who didn’t know how to hold me
Their hands chaffed me, lips bruised me, everytime they laid me down
It reminded me of Sithembile, a girl whose man only loved her when she was on her back
You could see the reflection of the stars forever imprinted on her eyes from counting them on dark nights while her man loved her from the inside before he moved to another.
Narcissist trumped naïve
Cold, calculated construction of the lowest self esteem
Convincing me that I was too ugly to have expectations
That the scar on my thigh is the reason men can’t look me in the eye
I’ve had to walk through this never-ending, nebulous haze of men
Too young to be called Sir
Too bearded to be set straight
Like calf on new legs
I was unsure of myself
Neophyte at beauty mistaken for brazen nymph
Like clothes that were too big – my confidence was ill-fitting
It had to be altered, I taught myself to keep looking down when a man shouted “slut”
To not flinch when a man raised his hand
To demand more than the missionary when I’m being loved
The men who cracked my heels, sipped my blood and encouraged my tears
Do not understand that being a man is more than just being male
When I get a son I will teach him how to hold a woman’s heart
And how to love her to confidence
Women, we need to love our sons with hands warm enough to keep them from looking for kinship from the guy on the street packing the most heat.
Hug, kiss and encourage freely
Anything to stop this generation of men who treat pregnancy like it’s an STD
Anything to make girls know they deserve to be loved
Not on their backs, or with the ball of a fist
But slowly and patiently till pain bursts into pleasure.
©Nontobeko Tshabalala 2011
I had to go through a street lined with men who knew too much about carnal pleasure
And not enough about love
Men who thought having more than me on his arm was necessary, was a symbol of his manhood
I’ve had to go through men who collected hearts like stones on a pebbled beach
Men who didn’t know how to talk to me
Who thought I’d answer when they called me variations of “bitch”
Men who didn’t know how to hold me
Their hands chaffed me, lips bruised me, everytime they laid me down
It reminded me of Sithembile, a girl whose man only loved her when she was on her back
You could see the reflection of the stars forever imprinted on her eyes from counting them on dark nights while her man loved her from the inside before he moved to another.
Narcissist trumped naïve
Cold, calculated construction of the lowest self esteem
Convincing me that I was too ugly to have expectations
That the scar on my thigh is the reason men can’t look me in the eye
I’ve had to walk through this never-ending, nebulous haze of men
Too young to be called Sir
Too bearded to be set straight
Like calf on new legs
I was unsure of myself
Neophyte at beauty mistaken for brazen nymph
Like clothes that were too big – my confidence was ill-fitting
It had to be altered, I taught myself to keep looking down when a man shouted “slut”
To not flinch when a man raised his hand
To demand more than the missionary when I’m being loved
The men who cracked my heels, sipped my blood and encouraged my tears
Do not understand that being a man is more than just being male
When I get a son I will teach him how to hold a woman’s heart
And how to love her to confidence
Women, we need to love our sons with hands warm enough to keep them from looking for kinship from the guy on the street packing the most heat.
Hug, kiss and encourage freely
Anything to stop this generation of men who treat pregnancy like it’s an STD
Anything to make girls know they deserve to be loved
Not on their backs, or with the ball of a fist
But slowly and patiently till pain bursts into pleasure.
©Nontobeko Tshabalala 2011
Writing and pink hearts...
I am back froma temporary and necessary hiatus. My life has been going on outside the blogosphere and it has been interesting. new developments that have me excited are happening, opportunistic old men who continue to hit on me are a constant, my family continues to warm my heart with the comedy shows they provide daily, I'm still in love with an amazing man who sees me.
I'm blessed to be here, to be in love with you, you with me and to have words to cement that love. Forgive me for being gone so long. I wrote poems which I would like to share... This one isn't really poem number 5 I just forget the numbering, but for the purpose of this post let's refer to is as that.
No. 5
It’s not that I hate men
It’s just that one of them took something that wasn’t his to take.
Nubile naivety
No guile but all grace
I was new to womanhood and fitting it on for size
When he helped himself to myself.
I’ll never be a blushing bride, or maybe I’ll blush because I left my hymen at the door.
He helped himself to myself and gripped my back as I gritted my teeth
I wouldn’t let him hear my tears. I swallowed them till the saltiness of the Nile ebbed and flowed deep in my belly
How do you raise a boy who takes the life of a girl and flips it over.
Enters without being let in
Drinks without being offered a glass
Turns over chairs and leaves the place in disarray.
And no, I didn’t lead him on
I wasn’t being coy I was being cautious
As he slammed the door and made himself home in myself
Groaning and stretching till he was comfortable
Packing pieces of my dignity in his pocket
I clenched my teeth and thought of my mother
Who never let a man see her tears because daddy didn’t hang around long enough to be introduced to me
She knew men
I was learning.
My heart is like a fist in my chest
And I can’t unclench my teeth long enough to ever let a man kiss me.
To ever make himself home in myself.
©Nontobeko Tshabalala 2011
I'm blessed to be here, to be in love with you, you with me and to have words to cement that love. Forgive me for being gone so long. I wrote poems which I would like to share... This one isn't really poem number 5 I just forget the numbering, but for the purpose of this post let's refer to is as that.
No. 5
It’s not that I hate men
It’s just that one of them took something that wasn’t his to take.
Nubile naivety
No guile but all grace
I was new to womanhood and fitting it on for size
When he helped himself to myself.
I’ll never be a blushing bride, or maybe I’ll blush because I left my hymen at the door.
He helped himself to myself and gripped my back as I gritted my teeth
I wouldn’t let him hear my tears. I swallowed them till the saltiness of the Nile ebbed and flowed deep in my belly
How do you raise a boy who takes the life of a girl and flips it over.
Enters without being let in
Drinks without being offered a glass
Turns over chairs and leaves the place in disarray.
And no, I didn’t lead him on
I wasn’t being coy I was being cautious
As he slammed the door and made himself home in myself
Groaning and stretching till he was comfortable
Packing pieces of my dignity in his pocket
I clenched my teeth and thought of my mother
Who never let a man see her tears because daddy didn’t hang around long enough to be introduced to me
She knew men
I was learning.
My heart is like a fist in my chest
And I can’t unclench my teeth long enough to ever let a man kiss me.
To ever make himself home in myself.
©Nontobeko Tshabalala 2011
Dear Gemini
May 21 – June 20
I’m not a big believer in horoscopes but everytime I read about my sign - Gemini, I can’t help but find undeniable spot-on descriptions. The most dominant characteristic of this air sign is versatility. Other character traits of this sign include;
• Good communicators
• Witty
• Intellectual
• Eloquent
I once had a friend call me 2-faced, okay no need for discretion, Pusetso Tlali it was you! I was offended because I loathe duplicitousness and I always try to stay true to who I am no matter what company I’m in. But I guess with age comes self-awareness because I realised that I am 2-faced, but not in the “gossip about everyone and their mamas to everyone who has ears” way, for me it comes in the form that I can blend in with whoever I’m around. My personality’s adjustable. I adopt accents, inside jokes, gestures – it’s a complete transformation, and it’s not a conscious thing on my part, it’s just my need to put people at ease and do the analysing, rather than be the one being analysed.
I wear a lot of different hats and they all fit me well, the only thing that travels with me as I flit from persona to persona is the incurable wit and the need to learn about things, about people.
When a Geminian falls in love they are drawn to a person’s mind, intelligence is attractive to us. This is the most apt way to describe any attraction I’ve ever felt for anyone. My mind craves to be challenged, I enjoy intellectual repartee – to get as good as I give is a quality I look for in everyone. This was honed considerably by being terrifyingly shy as a child – I had conversations with myself, laughed out loud even and as soon as I realised that this was socially frowned upon I began practicing my charm on people. I’ve never looked back.
My bedroom looks like a library, I collect anything that will increase my knowledge. Words, language, eloquence, intellect – that is the way to woo me.
Adversely people who fall under this sign are also;
• Nervous
• Tense
• Inconsistent
• Superficial
• Cunning
This is true because when things go even slightly off-course I obsess about the outcome until I feel I have a handle on the situation.
I am tense only when I’m waiting on something.
The inconsistency can be attributed to the fact that Geminians get bored easily. Restlessness is a part of our nature.
I plead the fifth on the superficiality I really have no time to be, articles need to be written, football coaches to be swooned over, Presidents to be loved.
Cunning – apparently we lie with ease and cover it with our charm. Maybe.
People born under this sign sound flighty and indecisive but that’s hardly the case. I know who I am and I stand firm in what I believe. The versatility in my nature does make me more open-minded to things, people, occurrences and the like.
To play around with common quote “Find my soul and you can have my body, seduce my mind and I’m yours forever”
Date of birth: 4 June 1988. Even at my worst I could never be dull
I’m not a big believer in horoscopes but everytime I read about my sign - Gemini, I can’t help but find undeniable spot-on descriptions. The most dominant characteristic of this air sign is versatility. Other character traits of this sign include;
• Good communicators
• Witty
• Intellectual
• Eloquent
I once had a friend call me 2-faced, okay no need for discretion, Pusetso Tlali it was you! I was offended because I loathe duplicitousness and I always try to stay true to who I am no matter what company I’m in. But I guess with age comes self-awareness because I realised that I am 2-faced, but not in the “gossip about everyone and their mamas to everyone who has ears” way, for me it comes in the form that I can blend in with whoever I’m around. My personality’s adjustable. I adopt accents, inside jokes, gestures – it’s a complete transformation, and it’s not a conscious thing on my part, it’s just my need to put people at ease and do the analysing, rather than be the one being analysed.
I wear a lot of different hats and they all fit me well, the only thing that travels with me as I flit from persona to persona is the incurable wit and the need to learn about things, about people.
When a Geminian falls in love they are drawn to a person’s mind, intelligence is attractive to us. This is the most apt way to describe any attraction I’ve ever felt for anyone. My mind craves to be challenged, I enjoy intellectual repartee – to get as good as I give is a quality I look for in everyone. This was honed considerably by being terrifyingly shy as a child – I had conversations with myself, laughed out loud even and as soon as I realised that this was socially frowned upon I began practicing my charm on people. I’ve never looked back.
My bedroom looks like a library, I collect anything that will increase my knowledge. Words, language, eloquence, intellect – that is the way to woo me.
Adversely people who fall under this sign are also;
• Nervous
• Tense
• Inconsistent
• Superficial
• Cunning
This is true because when things go even slightly off-course I obsess about the outcome until I feel I have a handle on the situation.
I am tense only when I’m waiting on something.
The inconsistency can be attributed to the fact that Geminians get bored easily. Restlessness is a part of our nature.
I plead the fifth on the superficiality I really have no time to be, articles need to be written, football coaches to be swooned over, Presidents to be loved.
Cunning – apparently we lie with ease and cover it with our charm. Maybe.
People born under this sign sound flighty and indecisive but that’s hardly the case. I know who I am and I stand firm in what I believe. The versatility in my nature does make me more open-minded to things, people, occurrences and the like.
To play around with common quote “Find my soul and you can have my body, seduce my mind and I’m yours forever”
Date of birth: 4 June 1988. Even at my worst I could never be dull
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