Bandile Matsenjwa

I honestly don't know if this is an open letter to the lady's ex or its her way of finding some closure but trust me , when I read it I felt my heart pulse faster than usual .. I'm not sharing it for the sake of her exposure but for you guys to see that poetry isn't about metaphors and similes but its about pouring your heart out , crying on the page . PLEASE READ IT AND DO SHARE !! I haven't had the chance... To sit down... And write it all out.... To write every piece and bit of your memory Out of my life... Out of my head... No! Out of my system.... All the anguish, The pain, The hurt you had me going through... I have had it bottled up inside me for far too long... Well...Today I give myself a chance to pour it out in words down on this paper... Sadly... I never got the chance to say it all on your face.... Today! I'm letting it all out.... You wanna know about pain? Pain was when you...

I'm a born leader with the skills of a poet,so whatever I've written I hope it be seen as offensive because that's not part of my intentions. Today I was at the Studio, I saw artists spending their own cash, giving it all,their energy, oomph recording a song,with hope that people will love it,with hope that they'll get paid, they'll get booked and be able to put food on the table. To be honest, it hurts,seeing people listening to music that ain't ours...we want kids to look up to their daddies and mommies,kids to have a wish and believe that dreams do come true. I'm just sick and tired of people mocking our music artists,that they're gonna die broke and all. However,this letter is all about opening your eyes through telling you the facts,I dunno you but I have heard of you, the "Artists Dream Come True" There are however points you're missing,  these artists are hungry for shows, breakthroughs and to be listened too...I'm not an ar...

An angel among demons you are Not so long ago,I was introduced to you Coincidentally, I assure you,I thought of it as accidentally Poetically Let me friend of I; Tell you how I feel blessed I; Am the type of guy who writes from the heart I guess that's why they think of my work as fetish Too deep for the selfish Buddy,I have to move with the flow like a dead fish. What more would I want though Than to see you and my boo on the front row As I take a bow once more And hear the crowd chanting for more My friend,learn from the queen Learn from your mommy, You gotta work for your dreams Life is hard,but hard as it seems Trust in God,He'll workout everything This is for you Vumile You're another black woman in the making Learn from your miss takes & don't be afraid to make them And always study and do your home works Just remember your own goals and live your own dreams too Learn all the lessons that life's gonna teach you Remember to treasu...

I hate my heart. When you bumped into me, my heart took control of my entire body. My heart wanted to make my legs move forward. Taking confidence in stride, fearless of the consequences that may come with removing the the gap between us. To break the walls of our personal space with the burning desire to get closer. My heart wanted to make my arms reach out for you. Not a mere skin-ship of our hands to signify our greetings but an everlasting embrace unbroken by time, held by the trust we would share with one another. My heart wanted to make my lips speak of how the brightness of y...y...y..your smile puts the stars to shame and my ears to hear silence, only to be broken by the melody of your voice and the symphony of your laughter. Your smile is the reason in this poem I began to s .. st ..stutter My heart wanted to make my brain create mental images of our lifetime, dreaming of the endless possibilities of when we’re together. That's IF we'll ever b...

What if we taught our children to think? What if we taught our children to be open-minded? We should teach our children how to never be one- sided. Open to any idea and any kind of love that in the mind can be grounded. Hate and black and white shouldn't be pounded Into our childrens ' minds. Endless mounts of colors and free flowing thoughts should over ride Their fragile, spongey -like minds. Teach our children how to be different. Teach our children to stand out from the crowd. So when they all stand together, no one will be like the other. New solutions to problems conceived and debunked thanks to standing amongst each other. Thanks to standing out and never roaming about This earth with a common thought that creates ignorance. Teach our children to imagine. Teach them to fathom. Thinking and question every single action. To determine the cause and effect And how it affects and messes with our lessons in our heads. Teach our children to think endle...

I feel like my hands are the most tortured part of my body Because, They ache to write a poem of gratuity unto you; See, The love within is as deep as the deepest sea I know you dunno me; I know you don't own me But, You play a huge undivided role in my life, Your views They heal my internal bruises No matter how lame a poem I write may be, You take your own time to read At first it seemed tedious And odd too Because I never thought my words could caress and pierce into your heart I pray that God keeps your heart intact in case u seem to fall apart May your dreams come true Keep the wisdom,it will guide you The love,it will heal you But most follow your dreams and don't be misled by desires. Don't let words fool You Just because people boon Your beauty It doesn't mean they wanna love you, Maybe they do But not everybody wants to be your boo. So here's the truth Be yourself Show love And most of all please keep reading my work And I ho...

So this one is dedicated to my Literature teacher , a mentor to me , a mother .. She plays a huge role in my life , and she too helped turn m y life around This one is for you !! Thank you, my teacher, for being there At times when skies were gray Thank you, for lending an ear When I had things to say You made me see the real me, You inspired me to be one of the greatest I promise I will forever make you proud You showered love on me lavishly When no one seemed to care You brought me joys untold To fill my heart with moments of gold I would have felt isolated and lonely If you had not been there I lack the words to let you know How much you mean to me, You became a mother Made me see that dreams do come true That's I always wanted to make you smile through my good grades Your words echoe every time the race gets tough and when there's heat,they give me a shade. But I will profusely thank God for you Until the Eternity. May yo...

I have a lot of time on my hands, which means I have a lot of time for thinking and a lot of time for doing. Lately I’ve found myself using this time to Think a lot more than do, and I’m pretty sure it’s having a negative impact on my well being – mostly because it fosters over thinking, which makes it difficult for me to make decisions. So basically I’ll think about doing something, but I’ll never actually do it because I’m too busy letting the thoughts circle around my mind. It’s not exactly productive and causes me to stress out, lose motivation, worry, become depressed, and ends up completely wasting my time in the process. This past Wednesday for example, I found myself feeling very dissatisfied while sitting around with my girl. You’d think I would just do something to reverse this feeling (sounds easy enough!) but for some reason I couldn’t snap out of it. My motivation was sapped, and I felt stuck....

She was like a rose; Delicate yet enchanting. A luscious, silky blanket of colour, had tinged auburn hair and eyes almost gold with glistening flickers of green. She was young and sweet, so heavenly suffocating you'd find yourself in a dream. The most beautiful rose you'd ever seen. But all roses have thorns. Miniscule daggers at the heart; the kind that shatters it so much that in the end, there is nothing else to break. And she was broken. She was like a story; Foreshadowing exhilarating adventures, selling secrets and telling lies. She was a mystery to most, but held the most exciting smile. A winner, of course. Following a plot so exuberant, it was a fantasy. Places unheard of, people unseen. But all stories have a hidden truth. The truth no one wants to tell; no one wants to cut the yarn, else they ruin the tale. The dark concealing of a world so unknown, it was the equivalent to imaginary thoughts. And she was the imagination in their heads. She wa...