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Fallen Angel by Liya Bona

We play games My angel and I We play silly games Stupid games Serious games Hurtful games. We play games My angel and I We play games Of deception Of misconception Misdirection And presupposition We tell lies, My incorrigible angel...

The wind by Mapitsane Maila

Wind blowing from north to south Sun becomes fearless of darkness Love becomes mother of death Hope becomes matter of time Rivers flow in a wrong direction Direction without love and hope Direction without peace and justice River of red...

the courage to be oneself by Kgosietsile Dintlhoane

the courage to be oneself the coffee mug stands erect on the floor and take note of that shoe under the stool and my books lying everywhere – check this hard-bound copy of Rainer’s poems lying wide open like thighs...

For once we thought we were there! by Khomotjo Manthata

When Memory banks go random, the conscious mind intuits dimensions beyond imagination.    When brown is black, the human spirit moves what should be. Death cannot remember the laughter,    The very same laughter that is so larger than a singular birth....

Untitled #23 by zamantungwa*

I’ve always been Afrikan Daughter of Mntungwa* uMuntu ngabantu (i am because we are)** Owadl’ izimfe zambili kwaphuma khambi lilinye*** One of the brown blk dirt Soil burnished by ilanga (the sun) Daughter of sun Dispossessed though Langa linye ngizonqoba...