I found the best thingI could dowas just to type awayat my own workand let the dyingdieas they always have.

Lo! A call for a bloody trial-Retribution should it hail!Whose? you ask,For he that deems it a worthy task!

It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.

The word love has always tasted like the scent of fresh ink and soft paper to me. Like a newly written poem.

The enemy came to steal,kill and destroy our hero Steve Biko. He was chosen by God and no one can deny that.

The birthing wolf,Her heart fed with tenderness,Gave forth from ripe brown nipples,Food to feed the universe.

Timetick tocksays the clockwhirrling bynever shyquietly passlayer upon grassuntil time has gone.than you die.

She's kind of a walking poem, she's this perfect beauty...but at the same time very deep, very smart.

...flames moved towards himand dropped within-singed and marred his tender skin ...(the frightful plight tale)

Darkness all around, smoke in between my fingers, all you have given me dear, sorrow and sadness to sing here.

the world is better withoutthem.only the plants and the animals aretrue comrades.I drink to them and withthem.

Hers is a timeless life weaving through other longer lives like a flash of lightning in a clouded evening sky.

Must always try to be out thereGetting everything out thereTake what is inside yourselfAnd place it out there.

Last night your thin walls invited me to the party next door / reminded me I am a quiet person in a quiet life.

It seems only yesterday I used to believethere was nothing under my skin but light.If you cut me I could shine.