DJ Nawtyness


She creates beats
tricks and effects on EQ
understanding and perceiving sound
capturing the essence in a pair of speakers

I watch the people
they dance to her beats
the rhythm takes them through
endless journeys
playing havoc with their emotions

In a state of trance
they sway their bodies
like puppets
DJ Nawtyness controlling the strings
pulling them back and forth
and then back again

Her lips pull into a tiny smile 
heart beating in sync
with the sounds she created
then finds her fullfilment 
in knowing that 
her music,
is understood by everyone

The little black book

I have a little black book

words of wisdom

gathered over the years

notes, eye-openers

realizations….

That the origin of good and evil

is deeply rooted in one’s own heart

there is a scheme to life

we can either embrace it or run from it

Being yourself is very difficult

in a society where anything out of the ordinary

are either labelled  or condemned

and one should never believe in anything

simply because it is written as the absolute truth

Hatred can turn one’s days and nights into

hellish turmoil

trust is earned

religion is not restricted

to temples and sacred writings

Death is a painful truth

tenderness and kindness

are not signs of weakness

once spoken,

words can never be reversed.

The little black book

now is with all the others

on my shelve

a constant reminder

that life is a process

a mystical journey

a true version of oneself

A Number

November 2010
I became a statistic
labled - criminal -
within twenty minutes
my world came
tumbling down

Handcuffed
chains around the ankles
in case I have the urge
to run away

suffocating in a small holding cell

Mixed emotions
fear...anxiety...sadness...hopelessness
and so my life begins
a small part in a minority group

a number

Ebb and Flow

The ebb and flow

of my life

are controlled by my moods

and they seesaw between

ecstatic heights and

nightmarish depths.

Like a Joan of Arc

I persue my demons

and find solitude

when i withdraw into

my innermost self

with only the music

of my heart

as company.

Soft Cello Notes

I have a friend
my oasis...
she has the ability
to connect to my soul
in a way that makes
words uncalled for

The depth of her intellect
and understanding echoes
in the dark caves of
my inner-world

And long after the turmoil
of exposing myself on paper
has left me vunarable and naked
her presence lingers on
like  soft cello notes
giving life to who I am





(this poem is dedicated to my friend Marelise Botha-Koch)

A True Story Of Being Me

I live my life in a host of stories
connected to other people's
stories in various ways
I understand and identify things
by placing them in the stories
I tell about them and then
find myself caught in a web

A web so perplexed I am
unable to tell the difference
between reality, or not -
fragments of the imagination?
or fragments of real life drama?

After careful consideration,
no sleep, tossing and turning
my reality includes everything
that is and has been -
a true story of being me

63 Cats in a hat

63 Cats in a hat

going through their own

magical experiences.

Every night the same

rituals.

Lock-up time

fighting for the shower

fighting with whoever

pissed you off during the day.

Then meaningless

conversations.

TV 1 playing for the

previously oppressed

now the leaders of their

own little gangs

calling the shots over

their domain.

I find it impossible to participate

I find it even more impossible

to sleep.

Every sound echoes in my

head and even

in the dead of the night the

'sleep-mode-noises'

cause havoc in my unsettled

soul. 

A laughing matter

I remember
our endless
conversations.
How we would be civil to
each other
if our journey should ever
end.
It took you two months
two visits behind dirty
thick glass
you stopped
being civil.
Inner turmoil

A revelation
surviving in this hellhole
is by far worse than
you leaving me.
It's a laughing matter