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A man, black,
skinny and hungry tried to kill himself today,
he achieved it,
he could have taken me with him, he jumped in front of my car with his arms extended, he aimed his eyes straight into the air and waited for me to make a statistic out of him, just another death for the South African road counsel. On an average day I would have been pissed off at him and swore at “some drunk dude” but this was a huge shock for me. The past wile I worked really hard on my major poetry assignment the main focus of the assignment was protest poetry I literally read hundreds of poems written by oppressed South Africans and poems from people all over the word who hated the circumstances which they lived in. One of the shocking factors of the suicide attempt for me was that the short scenario played off next to a township (SOWETO) next to Johannes burg, this is a settlement for black South African people.

Everyone who lives there lived there since apartheid or has been born from a household who doesn’t have enough money to move out of the township. Township life is hard and very poor there is better areas in SOWETO with brick houses and luxury but the area I’m talking about, is nothing but poverty, shack houses with no electricity nor running water.

My dad is a magistrate and told me that after an autopsy most people who commit suicide on the roads like this are found with an empty stomach and literally starving. We live in a harsh world.

I swooped out of the way and missed him with inches, traffic was heavy and I don’t know where I found a gap to fit my car in but I missed him, the driver behind me missed him as well but the driver behind him wasn’t so lucky he hit the man, and killed him. In SA if you kill someone on the road you can go to prison for culpable homicide. In this country of ours which is supposed to be free from racial issues, the white man who killed a black man on the road will live in hell if he goes to jail. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to stray away from the man who killed himself, I just like to explain the scenario from both sides.

After reading lots of oppressed literature I can’t stop myself from looking at this scenario from an oppressed poets point of view, an oppressed man who didn’t see a life worth living in a country which doesn’t have work for an uneducated man like himself.
I will never know if the man decided to be killed by someone who is his opposite. He was a hungry man who, walked to his death, who lives in a shack opposed to a businessman driving to his warm house with supper waiting.

Stereotyping you might say, I can’t argue with that, but I do know that things in this country are far from right. Nevertheless things in this world are far from right.
I ask forgiveness for the labeling of white and black in this entry, I am not trying to discriminate, I only want to express how unjust some judgments are.


I the only group I support currently is [link]

When people communicate with you do they choose their words carefully, are they aware that a poet could be analyzing simple words and find petty shit running over and over in their minds like a fucking windmill grinding away and leaving no sense behind only little pieces of truth scattered and unorganized only to be placed in a bag of self interpretations that wil be closed up and locked away. Yes I said locked away and not threw away, self-interpretations have a bad habit of hiding in silence waiting for the next to appear and stuffing the bag until the heart can carry no longer, seems stretch from time to time and drop little bits of dust making the load lighter. Sometimes it rips and spills out like a unleashed daemon, leaving even more self interpretations to the eyes and ears of the receiver of such word. The windmill keeps turning in all of us what we do with the product of our own minds neglect of instant reaction is a choice that can light a fuse burning and threatening the charades we live. When the bag of inner poison that corrupts the pure way of thinking gets too heavy to bear you have a choice to make...

Words, what do they mean? Does the absence of certain words carry a hidden message? Does the expression of something minor have a greater importance than a whole chapter of juvenile give-and-takes? Can you feel and express love with them or are we so animal that we need only touch and sight to express inner feelings. We aren’t all poets, I grasp that. But please give some thought before you express yourself you are part of a bigger world than your own.

Do people ever take things they say in perspective of the receiver of their words? The realization that a simple bystander who is unwillingly eavesdropping on a conversation could interpret a single word in a majority of ways is unknown to idiotic busy with their bitchery among us. When others hear you living quondam parables and quarreling over yesterdays feuds long forgotten but over rehearsed in this fucked-up world of charades we live in.

Why, a word over thought and over sought, driving the mind to a state of insanity whilst carrying out your own charade of smiles and tears. Does a word even make sense to people are we living our high speed lives in such a manner that words are replaced with abbreviations that take lesser time to tipe and lesser time to think leaving us with lesser to say and lesser to relate to. Steeling our words and leaving us with fast blabbered sentences with little meaning and little thought. I myself fall short to always practice what I preach. I find myself in times where I cheapen diction and say or tipe the same shit I bitch about. Nevertheless this is a journal entry, a statement, a moment of self anger towards others near, deer close and far. An observation made over time and a spilling of inner anger.

times move by , faster than the blurred images of the stretched out city life seen on the way to work, what am I contributing towards my self, my talents, thoughts, hopes and dreams, buried. Waiting for my maker to return and be judged, finding news not quite fit for my being...
Parables of life misused, outthought legacies waiting for a chance to prosper!

The last while I realized this cant go on, a choice is made, a quest is thought about for to long...



My girlfriend, is a huge help in my life, opening my eyes, giving me a new perspective on all things beutifull, giving me a urge to do great things!! I love her!