Bandile Matsenjwa

Honda Fit I know a girl who gives me palpitations of a higher magnitude Whenever she walks by, my earth quakes, I guess she sends signals through millibars Her face is a universe, eyes like thrilling stars And the feeling starts.... I call her Rover, she comes from an exotic Range Curves like vines, poisonous hips I bet roses smell bitter compared to her scrumptious lips Girl is shaped like a Coca-Cola bottle Turning a blind eye that she's empty when the sweetness is gone She's the type of girl all the boys wanna smash A Coca-Cola bottle on 7.8millibars, they have dropped her, luckily she never smashed She has turned into a port where boys park their genitals She lost herself, trying to please friends Following trends She plays the bitching part in the ends Caring about designer clothes Focusing on who's hot and got the best flows She likes making noise, like an empty can If she was a mother, I'm sure she'd be packing tins of empty Nan They call ...

You stay attached to the wrong people when you wait for them to change.  They won’t change for you, they can only change for themselves, but waiting for someone to change in order to become the person you think they are or the person you think they could be is only a waste of time. You stay attached to the wrong person when you think there is no one out there better for you.   When you don’t believe that you will be able to find someone you can love just as much who will be able to  give you what you need without breaking your heart. You stay attached to the wrong person when you limit yourself to one place.   The world is huge, but often, we limit ourselves to the city we live in or our circle of friends and that’s how we end up exaggerating our feelings towards someone because they’re the best we could find in this city or this group, but there are a lot of people elsewhere who would be so much better for you. So don’t set...

This was written to be as specific as it is vague, as alone as it is public. Cracking up about it sums it up for me. Is it mirth? Am I simply manic? Writing this I hope to straighten my thoughts, to be objective, to reason out the otherwise chaos of conflicting emotions that threatens to break apart my psyche. The niceties can't help. In the lull of activities, in the dark of the night, the conflicts within resurface. I confess to losing sleep over them, for I can no longer claim sanctuary of my mind. So I write. I am writing this at a time when the disequilibrium between us feels even greater than before. I admit this gave me no small amount of distress. At the same time, I wonder if it is even my place to be upset by this. A while ago, I opened up to you,  I was pleased with it then for it captured subtly my hopes and my fears. Since then however, the subtleties returned to haunt me. In a bid to remain subtle, I carefully skirted the main issue which if I were to be...

I saw a rose I was completely smitten by an external hunch when she rose She was ballooned with beauty and elegance, I was afraid I might be a thorn Pop it off But I could be a thorn Her a rose Among thorns I could protect her Prick those who try to take a petal off her It's a pity you never gave me the opportunity to prove my worth to you Do you have any idea how much this hurts me? Of course, you don't, how can you? I felt like a Casper, feelings for you filled up my dome Now I watched them go down bridges I'm a thorn, pricked myself and now I'm in stitches You're laughing, you dunno what a stitch is? You see, I was ready to swim deep for you You felt like this was skin deep for you No coffin, but I'd die for you No coughing, but I'd lie for you They always told me that women Woe men That wasn't the same with you; You were like a liquorice,amazing on all sorts For you, I'd go on all fours I guess I deserved this Mental pi...

I'm Yours, Just Ask Me If you want me to take out the trash with a smile on my face and a tender kiss on the luscious lips of your incomparably lovely face, just ask me. If you want me to take you to the movies, cradling your gentle hand tightly in mine, holding our breath to better preserve this perfect moment, there, together, nobody but us, in the dark, just ask me. If you want me to lull you to sleep, your head on my chest and your legs intertwined with mine, my fingers making tiny little circles at the small of your back till your eyes slowly close and your breathing grows deep and even, just ask me. And, if you want me to squeeze your breasts hard, kissing my way down your immaculate body, caressing the deep, oceanic smooth of your skin, till my tongue discovers the enigmatic folds of your secret, revering them gently, then with ever more force, till I hold your hips fast, as the wave of your pleasure recedes from your shore, just ask me Ju...

FOR HIS entire life, Bandile Matsenjwa has straddled two worlds: the socially challenged and academia. Born in Siteki, western part of Swaziland. Real name Bandile Mziwanele Matsenjwa,  has successfully battled preconceived notions about black men birthed from its high concrete walls to gain good academic marks, a subsequent place at Olympia Publishers and positioned himself as one of Swaziland ’s leading young wordsmiths. “It’s a bit of a myth when you’re told that kids from rural backgrounds aren’t interested in school,” he says. “What is quite interesting about our area is that despite the low success rate among a lot of young men, we all want it. We’re all from a background that encourages it, I was just lucky enough for everything to work out for me.” The Author's parents who had witnessed many of Bandile's peers turn to a lif...