The beauty of a man

The beauty of a man sometimes escapes me

There are times I sit and appreciate it

Then,

There are plenty more I’m disgusted and wish sight and feeling existed not

Entangled in confusion,

 I find myself in love with a man and trying to reconcile thoughts unspoken of my dad

And the man I love as he is here

A Reference point in this case remains pointless

All the men in my life breathe from within cases

A man,

With the knowledge that he loves other men

Struggling to do it though

Brought up by wo-men

Funny?

Not an Ode to Mother

This could have easily turned out an ode to you, mother

However the rhymes and schemes would not begin to reveal my love

I am your son.

Yes, son, and I am yours

Even though my orientation… or is it preference left you questioning if indeed I am

Today I stand here, proudly identifying as a gay man

 And proclaim victoriously that truly I am your son

It is said that no one knows a child like a mother,

However you were shocked at the realisation that I, your boy, am un-like the others

I know what must have ran rampant through your mind:

“Will I ever have grandchildren?”

“Does he know the ridicule that awaits him?”

“Will he ever be happy?”

“What will society think of me as a mother?”

I know what my answers are to all you enquire:

“I am going to have children, preferably boys. So you will have grandchildren”

“I’ve already been ridiculed, ostracized, belittled, beaten and my self- esteem trampled on. Do not worry, I’m like a horse; I now stand strong”

“I am happy. I found myself”

“Society will always have something to say, find ease. You are my mother”

This could have easily turned out an ode to you, mother

However the rhymes and schemes would not begin to truly reveal my love

I know you still believe that I made a choice to be this way, maybe I did 

But it was way before I knew I could even exist or breathe

I love you so much that I carry you with me,

Some might say that I modelled myself after you

Take me, your boy as I am and have been

Remember the love you had when I was born

Erase all you think you should believe based on the face I and others like me have been given

Fucking F'd up

We live in fucking crazy times, with fucking crazy people

Who is out there to fucking trust, when you cannot even trust yourself of all fucking people?

You say one fucking thing, believe in the fucking other and find yourself doing the complete fucked up other

Who is there to fucking trust when we cannot even hold each other?

We are in a world riddled with disease and no cures,

We are all fucking whores,
 for there is something in this world we would sell our fucking souls for

We are captured in times amongst machines reigning their own minds,

They too are like us; composed only of structure and true lies

Viruses not only devour our bodies and minds, they are also the elements of our hearts

Shit man, this shit is fucked up!

Where the fuck to go?

 In my dreams even there everything is fucked up.

There is nowhere to run to.

Only you know

You know that I have a “thing” about my legs;
I feel damn insecure in shorts and that’s the reason their exhibition remains short
You know I do not like talking much in the mornings, in fact I’d rather be in solitude and you say it’s like I’m in mourning
You know I roll my eyes at stupidity; mine, yours, theirs and ours
You know how I smile after I’ve said I love you and that I always will;
Now, yesterday, tomorrow and for eons
Only you know how I cry when I’m overwhelmed;
By sadness, happiness, the need for control or sex
Only you know that every night and after gloaming I pray to God;
Regardless of my intolerance for organised religion or fads
You know how I sing to suppress stress and when I gravely need your caress
You know how my face lights up at the sight of a child or at the thought of us having our own
You know?
You know I do not have a quiet mind and that I struggle to catch sleep,
That with the ascension of the morning star is when it visits me deep
I do not eat when under pressure; I do not speak when under a dark cloud
I feel blue most of the time and it’s amazing how you have the hues nestled on your palm
Only you know all of this and how it comprises most of me
Something’s I really wish you didn’t have a clue about, so I could still remain a mystery
But I’m glad that you’ve remained, despite my unplanned mischief
Only you know,
You know?

What you should know but don't...

I have all this heat going to waste when I could be sharing it with you

I’m not overly sexual nor do I like to be oversexed, but with you I imagine the previous two to be major probabilities

From the kisses we have shared and the times our bodies have been in close contact, I know that should we get into bed it would take us sixty nine thousand seconds

This is because I would take my time exploring the landscapes of your huge mass; from top to bottom using all my senses and tongue for taste, I would assess and in turn be caressed

This heat is from the inside and It’s called love, but I want it represented, given form and have it named “to fuck”

Yes, I want us to switch between making love and fucking

Slow and smooth to fast and edged

Confusing the body, but making sense to the soul

You can have all I have to give, you can have me whole

Pressure points and g-spots explored

Mind fucks given a rest, you and I given a test

One we most certainly can pass, way beyond I believe the level of distinction

Cooling moments reached after the stroke with cloud nine

I talk dirty but only for you because I love you and you are mine

I'd love to fall in love again, but...

I am an individual who is full of life (at least on most days I am). I look out into the dark and marvel at the creation of the sky and the stars. I dream of one day living next to the coast, where I will take long walks, barefoot, and continue to wander at the magnificence of the ocean and its magnitude, as well as its calm nature and presence. I look at the flowers and how they just know what, or should I rather say who they are and their purpose. They live, breathe, and represent the light that is God. They just are.

I, on the other hand do not simply live. I used to when I was little, however with life and its up’s and down’s I have learned to master how to mask living. I am a master of masking what should just be. This came as I always heard from people that one needs to behave a certain way, one needs to protect their heart after it has been broken, one does not always have to show how they feel. Basically I learned the social rules. When I did not hear these rules, I observed them, and now I am someone who lives life according to those rules. There are days where I just live. Most of the times those days are tapped into when I am with my friends aka drunk or high, but sometimes a wave of energy (natural energy) overwhelms me and my spirit shines through. When this happens, I laugh as loud as I can, sing as loud as I can, dance, shout, scream, I feel.

The title of this note is; I’d love to fall in love again, but… The notion of love has changed drastically for me, I continue to believe in it (gagolo), but I have learned that it is an entity to be guarded with all my might and vigour; that no one out there is deserving of it. Now this is a transformation I never dreamt of, it is a crippling of who I really am and all because of the shit I have observed. All the times I have heard people proclaim their love for each other, only for them to “fall” out of it, kill each other over it, or try to hurt each other in the name of it. Basically I have a warped idea of what it means to love another person, especially regarding the intimate meaning of it.

Tonight I took a walk around campus and decided to get a fag, and as I was “deep in thought”, and my feelings were incognito, I stood in silence, alone, with nothing but nothingness to feel and said a little prayer. I prayed for healing and a sense of appreciation for love, just like I continue to have for the sky and ocean, and how these entities make me feel. I could not help but feel giggly, hopeful, filled with … love. So maybe all this is transitory, perhaps tomorrow I will wake up and feel ready, but within the existence of tonight I continue to be armoured, a knight in the night ready to fight off both cupid and whomever he might have pierced, hoping he will change my mind.

love lives within me, however I do not think I understand it. And until that point I will actively try to re-connect to Spirit so that my eyes are reopened and heart capable of trusting. for now, tonight and the seconds that make it, I remain true to the title: I'd love to fall in love again, but... I'm not too certain.

True self: Part 2

In retrospect and about 13 years from that experience I have come to realise that I hit on more girls than I care to remember (Temogo is not one of them, contrary to what she believes). Anyway, before this little love affair at age 12 there were other girls whose friendship with me got twisted as feelings of warmth and belonging arose and I believed myself to have been attracted to them; love something. But they never agreed to my advances and now with a bird’s eye-view I realise that perhaps they too were afraid to be known as the girls dating the pre-Madonna who was not as yet aware of his sexuality. Flashes of memory pop up of when my mother also started pointing out that certain things I did were not the norm. I remember this particular time when I wore her clothes and makeup and started parading in the house (of course I did not expect her to walk in and find me clad in her floral dress and high heels), she walked in and gave me the look and then started whipping me with one of her belts from the wardrobe (elsewhere it is called the closet, which is where she wanted me to stay). Then I realised that I should never again wear her clothes or any of my sister’s clothes without any surety that either of them or my brother wouldn’t come back home early (I wonder what he would have done had he been the one to walk in on me looking epicene). Anyway, let’s fast forward to 2011.

The beginning of 2011 was beautiful for me; I had just graduated from university (again), was looking forward to touring New York with the choir, and also either studying further or finding a job. Twenty four years old with the rest of my future ahead of me (too enthusiastic and positive for my own good if you ask me). The choir left for New York (I had to leave my lover behind, sad bunny but hey) and we had fun there, plenty of memories created, those type of memories one treasures forever. Upon our return everyone was suffering from jet lag and somehow it was taking longer for me to get over mine. I remember feeling like everything did not make sense (especially the days, which is what jet lag is primarily, I think) and only now do I realise that I was blue maybe because I did not want the fairy-tale of New York to come to an end. Then… about a week later my mom called me into her room and asked me if I was gay (let’s just say that my mandible dislocated and lay on the floor for a few seconds). I could not answer that question. Instead I stared at her facial expression and listened to her tone and processed both as I was thinking of a way to answer her very unnecessary question. She went on to say how she heard my grandmother and cousin discussing it and wanted to know if indeed it was true. In my head I was thinking “Mom, I had Beyonce and Avril Lavigne plucked on my wall half of my upper teen years, and you bought me the Beyonce experience dvd. I sing with her as loud as I can every weekend while doing my chores. So, what is this you are asking me?”

She asked me again and I responded with a question, “what if I am?” let’s just say that my question opened up a can of worms, or rather a basket of snakes as Patrick likes to put it. In the end I did not answer her question and chose the cowards solution and walked out. I had never felt as useless before, I felt as though my whole BEING was a sham, a shame, something to get rid of. Thank God Mr lover lover was supportive and we worked through it together.

Now I can look back at the experience and not be as sad or as angry towards my mom. I was also angry towards God for firstly making me gay, and secondly for having me defend myself my whole life from both outsiders and now family members. I had to defend myself for being the only person I knew how to be, and was angry that at times I would downplay my personality just so I could fit in and not have to go through ridicule. Simply put, I was depressed. It is now 2013 and I do have to say that I can see a change in my mother; even though she does not ask about whom I’m dating or any of that love shit, she has come to accept my sexuality (I think). My relationship with her has become tighter since my move to Pretoria and we do talk often on the phone. I have come to realise through many discussions with friends and others that my response to her question could have been different. Some say I should have answered her and not ask her a question as my response, some say that I should have been more understanding of her stance on the matter and thus offer understanding, while others understand my reaction (these are my favourite people, lol).

The point is; denying who you are is not good for you or your greater purpose here on earth. When you do this you prevent yourself from travelling a path only set out for you. You choose another one hoping that perhaps with time or church or any other method of “healing” you will no longer have the same feelings, but when you no longer have those feelings you are not who you were meant to be. Some get married to women and hide behind this identity but come after nine ba busy le di gay, some turn to the church and speak of how they were healed, while some just suffer quietly in their rooms, crying themselves to sleep every-night but smile during the day.

There is only one of you, introspect, do right and just be!!!