Jabulani Mzinyathi Biography

when you sing the sweet melodies
mine will be the discordant voice
hold you by the scruff of the neck
repeatedly shaking the conscience
...

there is a poet
embedded in every prophet

taste the caustic poetry
...

the village torn apart
incessant quarrels everywhere
the village head drunk
his wife picking quarrels
...

bits of betting cards
strewn on the floor
like confetti
bits of fractured dreams
...

in the trenches together yesterday
burying comrades in shallow graves
burying kith and kin in shallow graves
the tree of freedom by blood watered
...