Just A Girl

Im just a little girl,
Making noise on a stage.
I had no idea, two years ago, that i would never be the same.

Im just a little girl who crawled up on your stage,
With no idea how my heart would jump, when i saw a Chang in your face.

Just a little girl, no fame and no grace,
Thoroughly ticked off my my Mps lying games,
I got up and confessed. That my finger tips and wrist don’t know how to rest.
As a means of expresion,
I’m blessed, but in a country with a non specific definition of incitement im stressed.

I’m just a little girl,
But that doesn’t make less,
My gratitude at being allowed
to do what I do best.

I was just a little girl,
When i got up the nerve,
To shout about what pisses me off in this world.
Maybe now im a woman,
Craving a day when my country is open, to the potential,
That our fallen freedom fighters died for.

Im just a little girl.
Putting on a brave face.
To get attention TV taught me I’d need cleavage and lace.
Instead i stripped my heart,
And wear my soul in ny gaze.

I hope from my deepest part that you will be amazed.
At my blatant nudity as the blood flows from my grazes,
I dip my nib in today,
And scrawl across paper.

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You Work For Me

You work for me.

And I’m tired of seeing,

my countrymen bleeding, for the sake of your fees.

See, you work for me,

But I can not believe in your incompetent grinning,

at my nations needs.

You work for me inadequately.

Selfishly stabbing our unity.

Spitting at the beauty in diversity.

Disrespectfully rubbing dirt in the wounds which it should be,

your duty  to heal for our children’s prosperity.

Don’t we drive on the same roads? you’d rather take on loans?

Or aren’t you here too?

Do you work for me?

Not the other way round?

When you mess up, its your job to with shame,

face  the ground.

To get  up and  run, when any warning bells sound.

Not measure your cocks  for some heat beaten crowd.

You don’t care what parties I go to,

Why should I care the other way round?

Which schools will you build? Where and how?

Can’t you feel the vibrations? My lakes suffocation?

Can’t you see your reflection? before we all drown?

You Work For Me.

Do your job! Get it right!

My land is filled  with resources,

inspiring!

Do the job you’ve got now,

before you start applying,

for promotions, with notions

of wasting more of my time.

You Work For Me.

Just in case you forgot it.

My anger is past the point where I lost it.

The time has now come.

To  get real.

Or Forfeit.

Can Somebody Please Fix My Lake

I cried, the first day that I laid my eyes on a horizon lined by land locked water. In the country I call home.

 

Honesty is an integral element of integrity.

If one wishes to be understood, one must learn to speak clearly.

Words spoken out, should not be out loud if they are given forth merely.

For the insult of self, the filling of air, or the conscious effort, not to be seen clearly.

 

I was stoked! On my way to The Great Lake City. When I looked at size of the city my heart swole, overwhelmed with pride. I was so excited!

Having grown up having had access to a place where the sun rises, on a horizon of endless water. I couldn’t wait to see this place where I can see, where the sun sets on the same. I love water. To see water, is to see hope, whether or not it’s consumable. This view I awaited was one which symbolized a certain hope in life, purely through its existence.

I would have had, coincidentally, seen both within 36 hours of each other. Carried in a wave of welcomed peer pressure, we set off to Kendu Bay for (and here I must quote) “A big fish!”.

We crossed a railway line and were engulfed in a view so breath taking, that it made my gut drop.

I was looking at my lake.

I could not see it.

My first impulse, was to look for it. I knew it was there, I could see her muddy edges, water, not even foot high.

Not the geometric measurement,

But the level of engulfment,

As opposed to neck high or ankle high, the only water I could see was not even

foot high.

 

It caught the light just right,

so that it mirrored the sky,

in a glassy plea to the heavens and a

Determined resistance,

with an aura of mystical strength.

 

My heart broke for this world in that moment

I hated the government!

Before, towards it, I was much more theoretically spent,

Resentment and argument for discourse.

Now it was disgusted detest,

‘Self interest aside, can’t you see what is best?

The city did not just appear on the lake it was born there.

If you stop water there, you’ve got fish out of air,

Both, under the hyacinth, and over it.

YOU KNOW IT!’

Don’t tell us you can run our country, show it!!

 

Will we wait for the time when we can then feel inclined to ask for more dept in the name of relief? Credit economies benefit from an expanded ability to allow people to move a step forward. When the only loans given are given to a corrupt government, our backs will continue breaking, without much to show for it.

Nestled in a well light, light pink wooden shelter, spotlessly clean, we were invited in by a shine that said, “welcome”. Sparsely occupied, on Christmas eve. Glasses arrived in plastic carrier cradles, serviettes and sauces in baskets, either of the same pink plastic which formed the glass carriers or of wicker and wood.

Skuma al dente like I’ve never had, crunchy onions, tomatoes, that begged for one more bite over and over again. One big fish for four mouths with smiles and laughter all round.

 

An evening well spent in the

diminishing sun light

which turned into moon,

still avidly viewed by the puddles.

 

Ultimately, I am at an insurmountable place to eat,

with an engulfing view of a mountainscape,

across a vast meadow,

that no one can walk across.

Mixing sorrow with beauty as only Mother Nature knows

How to do.

 

 

The last washing of hands, is complete with lotion, to counter the soap and to leave a fresh scent. I glanced sparingly across the expanse because it floods my mind with questions about what I should see good about a system which would allow this to happen to my beautiful lake.

My arriving disappointment was met by a rivalling aura of determined and impeccable hospitality. Having had your heart broken can be lulled away by true goodness.

The breaker of my heart is a cruel weed, that has veiled my lake in a mask that seems not to demand action from those with the responsibility to take it.

I really hate you hyacinth. I really do.

My land is vast. From Sea to Lake, from Desert to City through Savannah. All is mine to call my own. My land is loved by many.

Actions speak louder than words, and Id give my vote, to the person who fixes my lake.

The person who fixes my road.

The person who fixes my hospital.

The person who fixes my school.

 

The person who sees the cracks,

That form potholes.

That sink a ship.

In the deserts, which threaten to slip

Us deeper into denial abyss

Which predicts only one result as the twist.

An uprising.

 

My honest truth is this.

Kindly submit: exceptional effect to your intentions

Before requesting a promotion,

I would like some evidence that you can do what you say you will.

The rest of us have to be effective at our jobs before requesting elevation. Kindly attempt

To convince us that, that is what you are doing.

Remember;

We eat sleep and dream in your office.

We raise our children, in your office.

So we expect you to just, do the right thing!

 

Don’t tell us you can run a country. Show it.

My Ditches Have Roads

My lakes have grass

And my roads have water

Not enough reforestation

But it seems to be fine,

That the best dug out holes,

Are on hazardous inclines.

 

My lakes have grass

My roads have water

As we weave off the edges

Of what should be dual carriage

To bypass the ditches which cross the tesfault

Behind a loud speakered

Rav 4 telling me who to vote for

In the next poles.

 

My view points have ditches,

And my ditches have roads

Because the people I pay for

These privelidges, cant even

Afford to google which

Way water flows.

 

When Id like a promotion,

I have to work harder.

But my civil employees seem to think its ok for

My lakes to have grass,

My roads to have water,

My view points to have water,

And my ditches to have roads.