The Science of peaking the South African Silence

To kill the 1st line is what i do in a jiffy
Oh! lord the impulse greedy
Plenty poets stumble on these blocks
While i jot at ease
With ease to shape up and humble on
An intimate soul-shake-down

Word wizardry when i squeeze
Lyrics or stanzas that float down side up my psychic sealing
As sharp as ice splinters
To freeze as quick as lies to a trained sinner
And as hard as forgiveness to the lowest of thinkers.

Oh! Lord my goodness
I’m sorry please forgive me
i find it awfully simple
Yet trivial
finding the art the science
Of speaking or better yet healing
The South African silence

Listen here fellow men
I was never brought here
Nor broaght up to get folded up
On man made situations coiled up
Inside devils shenanigans plans
Like water on oil i rise up the sediments
On my ancestors blood on tanks
That aimed at women and children

Taming the future lineage
In this dying age we are a silent youth
A violent youth against youth
In truth anxiety youth stressful stressed
Quietly dying like a protea sprouting in the dark destined for decay as a hopeless seed.

A green light to grow some leaf
Or a listening ear
Listen here
They killing us 50 times 50 every minute
Yes them trick we
Kill we then limit the birth rate to a sick kid
Zilch as abortion procreation suspended till dogs speak

Believe it or think about it
Whimsically i speak about it
In word and in syllable and in truth
I saw an ancestor kiss a boot
Kneeling on all fours below the devil
Thats up rooted from the tree of humankind
See the devil is blind on natural ways or is an undecided fool

Trapped in a lucid lucifarian dream
But in South Africa hes hands on
All four of them your forefathers saw and felt
See the remaining remnants ringing in the memory bell
Speak it or keep silent
Sick youth tamed cattle hands off just standing there
Helping out in making our nation a cradle of human lies.


Thorny Love

Sweet sour fire and ice dark and light
Keep whats ours we fight fight fight the muscular spark ignite
Sharp words pierce a blunt heart pointing at each other
Harsh words need not to speak up little ones awake

Little ones away we keep it hush

mind games get lit up true feelings submerged
like sentiments underwater

floating low

The sediments of our sentimental side
Holding on to ‘who’s-gonna-speak-first
Both lost wondering who’s gonna seek first

we try search and find but come across false pride
Mendacious egos lying to ourselves

fooling our minds
The truth tatted in our eyes engraved marking our demise

Pulling the last petal knowing the second last had the ‘not’ in its L.O.V.E
Fooling my self for the last time

I said it before giving out a second chance
I danced like bojangels suspended

in a trance our rhythm fading out
Simple and plain out i tried it takes two to tango
i thought i had it balanced on both angles
it narrowly shaped into an open triangle

drawing separate ways

for us to try and handle


Feeling Fine

To be taught how to love and confusion
With boundless outlets i need to be schooled over doing it
Days without numbers i was consciously or sub that or above that Throwing my being at this little pond of mine
That’s this deep so i don’t drown

Tell you right now it is awfully painful being stung
Hurts more and more being it love
We like things differently and i like it more
like i adore when its different like picking clay instead of ingot
The difference is with clay i play and with a lump of gold I’m prey

A pen is a poet best pal my friend i can write about how polar bear lost his fur over African sun and more but your topic’s too heavy for my feather to spill an ink about
Until i wake up on why am i gripping this pen
Why are my fingers thus serious
Got me thinking a clean page is a dull neighbourhood till the moment these praises polluted the scenery
And the climax of the act is how you show up at the roadside

Well i react strange i come soundless as these words did
Thrashing around the veld at this very instant for im finding it novelty
To pick the suitable truth like words for clay
Oozing with a lot to say and the perfect path for those who think is headed by huge huge stumbling bricks escorted by complete void
I scotch a ‘J’ and cock some inspiration not a 9
Im feeling fine how you doing today?


The Cipher.

On stage!
Cosy intimate poetry and beat session
Wine and Good Stuff
Born fire feel
Nible Nible Nible
Incense feel puffs
Arts and crafts

Fabric meets beads sage
Shades carry locks
Crazy beanies
that scarry turban cloth
Never weary celestial beings trapped on carbon
Stubborn musical taste tap off norm

Nerds geeks hippies
dress dirty looks clean
Loving free giving
always happy looks mean.
Nappy hearted
joyful state of mind
Hippy and hoppy

Flip flops and shorts
printed Tees
nigger please and Irie
Journal rhyme book
diary mental enquiry dialing.

Ancestors with answers firing gifts flowery
Flowerbeds flows
hydroponic greenhouse
Skip and bounce boundaries crossed unannounced.


The Great White Bird

Hits lands and valleys
Cuts rivers mends them back again giving way to the eternal flow of things.

Circumclimbs mountains noons and moons already envisioning the summit it envisioning him. Bumped a cliff at the neck of it

just for the heck of it.
Still searching for that ‘I will never forget’ reflection he saw on the pool one day.
A Bird.

A Great white Bird Flapping Above Him looking down at the pool of still waters like the mirror of reflection
The mirror of truth.
The unclimbed clif at its feet he waited in defeat.


Laid in his own stupidity
His unequal inequity.
Dying slow last breath paused by the white feather falling down the breathtaking african sunset to his faint touch..

© 2019 Melk Eye™



Quater to four.

Yes insomnia!

Go on right ahead and have me

I’m having you back

Where were you for i’ve been juggling inumerable sheep?

Troubles in my sleep unexplainable im left fumbling for the slightest feel of drousy

swinging from random thoughts that branch into humungus fantasies pleasing the monkey on my mind

There’s no escape being an ape when i’ve been an orangutan since quater to ten

Now its twenty to four

I sincerely need to snore

I thought mosquito’s a bore

Until all life was asleep

I felt so annoyed and i missed the buzz

Early morns i will miss the bus

For now this is when i send vibes on patrol as Security Gods to watch over men

This is how and when children grow

Under the stars

Moon glow to to rise again and feed on my pen.

© Melk Eye 


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I know the ugliest of all Nothingnesses is Idea subtract action. Demise strikes harder or arrives faster when the same God given Gift pitches up again but faces practiced idleness. Then i shrink into a tiniest of all nothingnesses. because nothing can be done..


You are something I am something
You are someone I am someone
We are nothing if we can’t see a thing.
there is everything within everyone.


I know everything is everything
and each and everything has a thing.
unique or ubiquitive in form or other.
born from nothing has nothing but a strong mother.


The holistic view on life. new life. you.
Them. us. our view on things then you.
plant. mammal. galactic. abbyss. you.
The Mind. Soul. Spirit. Flesh.Thought. Heart. Lungs. Sex Organ. Dreams. you.


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Oscar’s Pistol and Us.

Oscar’s Pistol and us.

If its the fall from grace that wakes men

from a silly dream of skipping high horses

with resemblance to a dwarf jumping a gun

i had enough.

Oscar’s Pistol and Us.

on a quest to close the ugly gab between Love and Self love.

the latitude between others, us and all of us

we run to the line of longing

cute looks finest wines

Good books for my super child

that offsprings into a baby that booms

or blooms like sober shrooms

to never shush or mute its freedom to dominate and intimidate.

Oscar’s Pistol and Us.

At gunpoint the lady is weak.
An athlete that turned into a nutlete

left the bath leaking bloody

gun slinging in love and in hate

jailed by jealousy weeping in front of countries

your handkerchief is expensive and fake

your tears frozen by the arctic in your heart

as an artist, lover and a father i am oblivious to no breed of man that can claim muscularity after that

i heard enough. (My |Father did it)

Oscar’s Pistol and Us.

Your case is our case all of a sudden

i forgot to clean up my place because of your budden
you are on every channel

every station

every newspaper and every ones sanity

Your face lights up on every tunnel

they quiz for truth in vain blinded by your vanity

instead they hail the mendacious pain running through your see-through veins

We see you. I saw my father

We got lots of problems man
We were on our way to forgive slavery

until we saw how many guns you and your family have

we were peeling webs and fungus from the word freedom

until you..

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