Things we can’t imagine

Could Claude Debussy imagine me being soothed by his music and sharing it online? There are many small things that we do today that will impact someone’s life. Think about it.

Letting my poetry book marinate. Let’s give from a sincere place folks.

I am also here:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Nomzikumalo/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nomzikumalo/
YouTube: https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCoUpLARMa4NVzqFWxXhBbQw

Editing

Life can get challenging sometimes, so when it does, find the light; in a poem, a song, a good conversation, a shared meal, rest, under a tree or by the sea.

I remember going through a painful period in my life that pushed me to write my first WordPress post about returning home to South Africa, essentially to myself. Some day I will tell you about how poetry chose me back then.

Now almost 2000 followers later, I am truly grateful for your support, guidance and inspiration. Time to focus on editing my poetry book and it’s more work than I ever expected. I will visit you and post music from time to time until I find that place again to post a new poem.

Take a chance. Write.

And folks, you can also visit me at:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Nomzikumalo/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nomzikumalo/
YouTube: https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCoUpLARMa4NVzqFWxXhBbQw

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2017.

Rivers

Spring’s bittersweet tears
For life was never more with us
Than when we bathed in mercy.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2017.

After

Everything that was never promised
Eventually arrived as hollow as grief
Some things do not fall under justice.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2016.

Deep light

Quietly after summer upon my body
Is she changing her colours again
Will we understand love before we make it
Will we honour the answers at this depth
Do we know what poverty is
Are we awake.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2016.

 

Joy

I hear the church bells ringing
And the birds take flight into the cold spring skies
And of all the things that I wish to do
I want to know what it is like to soar with you
Through the mundane things of this world

Because masturbation is not love
Pornography is not love
Equality is not love

Love is free from our imagination
As free as the rain that falls from the heavens
Mountains valleys oceans alleys
She can not be rented nor invented nor paused

So forget about yesterday and tell me about now
What brings you pure joy
Love.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2016.

 

Call my ugly

Call each and every ugly part of me
Until there is none left for me to cling to
Until they are no longer mine to carry
Free to be of what I am made.

I dedicate this poem to those who have called my ugly; and in so doing have awakened me to my humility; my true calling. From the time that we are born our lives are abundant with gifts. They will misname them. Our work is to rise above that.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2016.