kagablog

Our next-door neighbour is 84
She never wanted more
Than a piece of quiet
A place to be
With dog on leash
She greeted me
Whenever she saw me
Her overtold stories bored me
But I listened…

Told me once about her
Greedy niece
The one who wanted to set her free
In an old age home
To be with others like Sadie
She told me that…
She objected strongly
Her overtold stories bored me
But I listened…

Sadie had a big ol’ grand piano
In her dining room
That landmine room
She couldn’t play no more
Said it was her god’s law
Her legs turned inside out
As she knocked on heaven’s door
But her mouth kept rattling on
Word after word was born and soon
On those mild, weekday afternoons
I got bored with her overtold stories
But I listened…

Sadie never wanted to inconvenience me
Don’t kill yourself over me
I’ll get by, I always do
Can you come and tune my tv?
Nevermind the rest
As long as you can get it on Dr. Phil
He’s the best
Her tv was always on number 8
The loudest on the volume control
At 5.30 in the morning
It was hell
But we listened…

Sadie had a daughter
Who wasn’t there at all
She stopped the visits to the mental institution
Where she lived on pills
The state paid the bill
But still
Sadie would talk about her daughter
In that mental institution
Hope she’s okay, she worried
There’s nothing I can do no more
She said
Her overtold stories really, really bored me
But I listened…

She loved her gin
And ciggies and dog
It kept her alive and well
Like Elvis
‘Rent it?’, she asked
Surprising me
Said her niece wanted to sell the property
And Sadie’s gotta move
But not this girl – not now
Not ever
Asked me if I could change her locks
But move? Never!
Her overtold stories bored me
But I listened…

So, how does Sadie’s story end?
Guess she’ll never live to tell
84
And Jewish
But poor
So close to heaven above her
Yet living her life on earth in her own kinda hell…

One night in Paris was only one night
Taped for commercial exploitation
It was never nominated for an Oscar, an Emmy
Or a Golden Globe
In fact, it wasn’t even taped in Paris
So, forget Paris…

Her simple life is much simpler than the average American’s
Just another product of deep-rooted political masturbation
For a nation of fools
Schooled in front of televisions, drive-ins and movie houses
Ain’t that a bitch?
No, they call it school
That’s why I say, forget Paris…

Ever wondered why you feel that tickle of admiration
Down your spine?
Well, she’s living your life and for a nickel or a dime
You can see this girl in People magazine
As well as the New York Times
So, forget Paris…

They are slowly changing your perceptions
Of what a dream is supposed to be
Taking it from you, moulding it and giving it back to you
On a reel or in a picture of a girl
Named after a European city
Ignorance isn’t pretty
But you can begin by forgetting
So, I implore you to
Forget Paris…

1

Dear America
As TV ads and speeches
Religiously flicker and scream at you
To choose the right man to lead your country
As debates and diverse points of view
On prime time
Rage on
Just know, that America can only go on
If you decide to choose the right man
Come November

She is fragile
She is hungry
She is tired
And she is ready
For change…

Dear America
Leave your prejudice and racism at the door
Let freedom and change tally up the scores
Take some time to reflect
Before family and church
Ring the bells in the steeples of your country
Loud enough for you to go deaf once more…

Dear America
Freedom was never meant to be a foreign concept
Forced upon the peoples of Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere
It can be real
It can be now
It can be beautiful
And it can be yours
But only if you want it…

Freedom was never meant to ignore the Gaza Strip
Or let Cubans drown in the pursuit of freedom?
Freedom was never meant to strangle hope out of Africa
Or kill civilians with no thought?

Freedom yearns to be free of obstacles, threats and political interferences
If anything, freedom needs you more today than ever
Another eight years like the eight before might kill you
Needless to say, the world needs you to make the right choice

As election day draws near
Realise the power you hold in your hands
And use it to change your future
You know you can…

An African

2

Dear America
If you must
Go back to all the debates
Rewind the tapes
Ask questions
Look back at all the primaries and the past
Including yours
Then tally up the scores…

Ask yourself who bombed Iraq
And killed Hussein
In the name of your freedom
Knowing that there’s always a million better ways
To solve any situation…

Ask yourself why your country
Is still searching for Osama
And why terrorism is still used to put your freedom
In a coma…

Sleep it over
Go over it
Over coffee
Or at the water cooler at work
Just don’t let anybody fool you into believing
That what you have right now is good…

Dear America
Think about the freedom of people across the world
Think about freeing the world
Think about the poor
Knowing your country can definitely do more

Think about it
As if your life depended upon it
Don’t ever let the reason for making your choice
Escape your mind’s eye
Because if you make the wrong decision on the day
You’ll have to explain why
To yourself and your children…

Look at your children
Look at your life
Look at yourself
Ask yourself if you deserve better
And believe that you do…

Ask yourself if you are ready for change
Ready to share in that elusive American pie
Ask yourself in your heart of hearts
If you can really give real change a try…

An African

3

Dear America
Some of them are younger than 20
And they might never ever see their country
Again
They don’t even know what they are fighting for
And they don’t know why they are there
And most of them are scared shit-faced
In the name of war and peace…

They are your sons and they are your daughters
Don’t let all of them return
In body bags
Wrapped in the red, white and blue
Decorated with a star
On a flight from Iraq…
At noon on a tearful Sunday…

Budgets that go into trillions of dollars
Cannot justify all the American blood
Flowing in Iraq
Budgets that go into trillions of dollars
Cannot begin to justify parents being denied
Seeing their kids grow up…

Dear America
You’re supposed to be
The land of the free
And the home of the brave
Don’t let your country become a slave
To oil and power…

Your phones are being tapped
Guns are on tap
Iraq and Afghanistan are almost
Blown off the world’s map
Poverty is still around
And most Americans are trapped
In debt and a veil of perceived freedom

Give him a chance to change
The status quo
Because you know
He can make a difference…

An African

As Africans…
We don’t have to wait for…
Bright lights or
Supersonic beings on clouds in the sky
Or objects flying unidentified
Why search for the truth
When it is right
Before our eyes?

We don’t have to wait for…
The U.S. of A and all its allies
All lies
Trust me!
You cannot trust
Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck
If a change is gonna come
It won’t come wrapped up in the back of
A Burger King truck…

We don’t have to wait for…
The European Union
To cement our union with donor cheques
Signed with guilt…
Our people know about unity
And it’s not in any of your
Hair relaxers or diet pills…
Trust me!

We don’t have to wait for…
Another religion to set us free
They tried it with television
But that shit didn’t free me
If anything, it made me more
Revolutionary…
Like the ones before us
They know they cannot ignore us
So they invented Aids to cure us
Set us free…

We don’t have to wait for…
A new beginning or a fresh start
That shit you can feel with every beat
Of your heart…
We’re getting closer to changing times
Just read between my lines
They reinvented the slave scheme
Clothing labels have become the new dreams…

As Africans…
We gotta know that
A change is gonna come
‘Cause in life’s time
One hundred years barely equal a month
They might think they’ve got us
All under their skin
They forget that we’ll always shine through
We’re gonna win!
But until that day comes around
I find my peace in the words of
Sam Cooke…

It’s been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will…

Wish you could be here
To share this new land with us, my brother
We’ve come so far
Yet we are nowhere near
Where we really need to be
But you’ve laid the foundation that inspires me
To be human



Wish you could be here
Help us reignite that struggle for the freedom
Of our minds

We are running million rand corporations

Yet we’re running scared

And out of time

To act human



Wish you could be here

And see that poverty is still around, my brother

Our people waited for the dream to become

A reality

Guess that it wasn’t its time to be

So the struggle must continue

And we must believe in your ideals

And fight to feel
 human



Wish you could be here

To see how this country has grown

Has come into its own

We’re building a super power in Africa

Imagine that

Yet the majority is still poor

And those who have, want more

But lack the desire

To feel human



Wish you could be here

Here, where the pursuit of material riches

Has taken over the pursuit of

Enriching the mind
Here, where what you have

Defines who you are

Here, where nothing has changed between the haves

And the have-nots

And our people are still not treated as
Human beings



If you could be here today

You’ll see that colour is still an issue

Damn, how our people need you

The race to freedom will continue to be a race

Until all the races are free

And when we do not need to judge

Based on pigmentation

The day when good human relations
Will be the basis of this nation
Mzansi Afrika!


Long live Bantu Steve Biko!




She had sex in your city
Unprotected
Then neglected you for the coke hills of Colombia
She is America
She’s the conspiracy theories
The final Soprano series
And because she doesn’t understand what fear is
She’s in Iraq and Afghanistan
You know, all the places dark-skinned people are from
She’s in your favourite TV shows
And all the R&B songs you know
The books you’ve read
The movies you’ve sat through
‘Cause she understands you
She is America
She’s the cocktail in your hand
Your favourite punk rock band
She blinds you with her charms
So you’ll never take a stand
She is America
She’s in your X Box, Playstation and Nintendo Wii
She’s in all the Southern bodies that hung from trees
She’s bold and loud and proud
Relentless
She is America
She’ll piss on your parade with her ticker tape and long black cars
For presidents, bullets
And your mind
She rules it
She’s America
You can taste her red and white lipstick on your tongue
You can see her stars in your dreams
So put on your tic tac sneaks
Cock your peak
Put your hands on your butt and feel her
She is America
And she’s in your jeans.

What the fuck is happening on this book with a face
Old acquaintances are adding me as their friends
And I know their intentions are laced
With building their ‘friends’ count
Look at me! I’m the shit!
I had four friends yesterday
And here comes the fifth
Six, then seven
Before you know it, I’ll have twenty
I checked Suzie’s profile
And she doesn’t have that many
I’m gonna add my ex-boyfriend
He’s a real fuck-up – no doubt
But if I can get from 39 to 40
It’ll give me some clout
I click ‘add as a friend’ without thinking of the repercussions
I just write a little message
Asking him ‘bout his cousin
Poor girl was diagnosed with some disease
About 5 years ago
But I don’t give a flying fuck
‘Cause my friends’ count is a low
People from my past creep out of every crevice
I know what they want and need
This book’s made me clever
They’re all here for one thing
And I can relate
‘Cause I’m poking some people
I’d rather drop off at hell’s gate
So I add a few apps
Check out my super wall
Reply to a few issues
When I don’t give a fuck at all
This book’s got me totally under its spell
Have you seen my workload lately?
I’m drowning and the whole world can tell
95% of my day is spent on this shit
And I cannot see the end in sight
No! I cannot quit!
I’m looking up people
Who fucked me over in the past
I just want a higher number
To show my peeps I’ve got class
The whole thing’s a farce
I’ve now got friends I don’t really need
And we’re all playing this make-believe game
Like we’re high on strong weed
Everyone’s friendly and shit
Peeps appear to give a shit
So they poke you once a week
To make you believe that you’re worth
But real friends will have your back
When your car’s dead on the M5
Tell me how many of your Facebook friends
Will come and check if you’re still alive
They need to split it into friends, acquaintances and fuckers
Then maybe people won’t be adding friends into empty friendship buckets…

for more writings by hilton mashonga check out his blog