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Poems By Poet Yolanda Mbatha  11/24/2014 7:47:12 AM
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  Best Poems From
  YOLANDA MBATHA
 
 

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  1.     

African Roots

My DNA dates back to the trees that planted
My identity.
Soils creep up to distress how the hairs on my head were made.

My ancestor...
the ghosts that breathe through me
exclaiming their identity.
The roots that planted my existence flow through me
My
African roots.
The earth carries on its back the blood of those who fought for our liberty

Liberty... Our hips, our thighs
Free to paint itself into a frame of its own choice
And it chooses the hourglass
Dating back into time where
African women spoke through their stride
Head bowed down
An unspoken noun

That he the man and his muscles may protect his crown
Wabonga izulu
Esho izithakazelo zikaShaka Zulu
Thina ma-Afrika
Thina esinsundu
Esabeletha isintu
Ngoba kwathiwa umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu
Thina esinezimpande ezingasoze zahlubuka

Indoda yabukwa
Yabukwa indoda
Kwaqubuka ukuziqhenya
Laqhamuka iqhawe
Kwaqhaqhazela umhlabathi
Kwazalwa izwe eliqhakazile
Thina ma-Afrika
Thina esinsundu

Our DNA dates back to the trees that planted
Our identity.


(A poem by Yolanda Mbatha and Mbali SImelani)
 
Yolanda Mbatha
   
 

   
   
 

  2.     

Blaqpearl

Feeding off dump sites
Government preaching about human rights
The minds hunger now difficult to fight
The authority’s pledge I’ve learnt to recite
Insanity, poverty for eternity

Your unwanted possessions
My essential obsessions
My riches, your rags
Your trash, my designer bags
Your side plate, my family’s table
My love unstable
Insanity, poverty for eternity

Ngiphephephi, where am I safe?
Not in my matchbox house
Where the sun knows not the sky
Where it is eternally nightfall
Where trees never grow tall
Insanity, poverty for eternity

You preach about ubuntu
Hold on to your zips because nginsundu
Caring is sharing
Yet you scrutinize as my skin keeps shedding
Insanity, poverty for eternity

Izingane should be seen and not heard
Yet when tears overflow you fly away with the birds
A starving nation builds my judgment of life
A life of manicures and pedicures for your wife
Insanity, poverty for eternity

My brothers, my sisters sighing, crying, dying, trying
Searching for an escape from this death coated,
Pain flavoured bitter-sweet candy on which I was deserted
Stop hearing the voices of black uneducated children
Start listening to the cries of a needy youth
That life just ain’t simple
For I am black because you are white
For I cook because you will eat
For I die so you can live
For I am because you are
Insanity, poverty for eternity


You are born into a cycle where luxury becomes a necessity
A cycle where education is a source of publicity
You get consequently knowledgeable that your heart matures before your head
When you CHOOSE to wet your pillow in bed
When you’re incapably capable to feed yet another head
Where I am born into a cycle where necessities become an improbability, impossibility
A cycle where education is narrowly for minority
So uneducated that your heart learns from the head
Where the tears unintentionally flow because I’m unfed
Where I’m incapable of dependently feeding all my sibling that aren’t yet dead
Insanity, poverty for eternity


For you are in possession of the power to silence the critics
Inspire the pessimists
To astound the optimists
Insanity, poverty for eternity


Black is the coal that lights the fire that houses hell
Black is the pupil of the eye that enables me to see beyond the eyes of the mind
Black is the dark emptiness that “us victims” fear
Black will be the day that blesses us with God’s judgment
Black is the gift of pain that tolerates abuse
Black is the strand of hair that defines my ethnicity
Black is the colour of my love extreme

Think Insanity, poverty for eternity
 
Yolanda Mbatha
   
 

   
   
 

  3.     

A Walk Down Memory Lane

A walk down memory lane leads to screams of agony as I forcefully commemorate past tragedies. Life as a teen could be more difficult- that I know- but it could also be much easier...

The walls of my mind are engraved with the terror that is visible in my eyes, visible in my heart, yet hidden in my words, hidden in my stride- none attempts to look beyond what your tender eye wishes to see...

People talk- inexperienced yet so certain that they know what goes on in the mind of those who know, those who have been, those who are, Tongues poisoned with bitter emotions in favour of the so called victim... The offender is concluded as the offender without reason, without proof, without thought
it's a natural things to do for we humans tend to kill with the tongue and consider the physical assassinators murderers yet we ourselves are as saintly as what lay beyond the clouds of doubt.

I’m no more and yet no less a sinner than you
I’m me and you’re just you… I’m both good and bad, and that only makes me human… difference is, I watch my tongue yet we still assassinators, yes both you and me.
 
Yolanda Mbatha
   
 

   
   
 

  4.     

Black South African Woman

Because i anwser to our children when you're nowhere to be found,
because i provide food with the scraps i was given;
I AM A WOMAN.

Because i am robbed of my privacy because i wont willinglt satisfy you,
because i have to accept htat i am no-longer a priority for i now have a fat belly;
I AM A SOUTH AFRICAN.

Because for my children i am forced to be your slave; restricted to household duties,
Because I am forced to tolerate your inappropriate behaviour a you get home late from the pub
I AM BLACK

Because I do what I have to, but not what I want to;
I AM A BLACK SOUTH AFRICAN WOMAN
 
Yolanda Mbatha
   
 
 

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Poems By Poet Yolanda Mbatha