Discord in Africa

Discord in Africa

by Dancing Rivers   Jul 3, 2017

From the top of the hill I can feel

the wind blowing on my face

Ngokujabulisayo ukufaka Ngezinwele zami

(blissfuly toying with my hair)

watching the sun play games

on the backs of Hadedas

as they stalk the grasses

in search of voluptuous worms

on which to feast.

red-beaked beauties

sparkling blue and violet

in the late afternoon sun

I momentarily ponder their bliss.

What magic is there

in the casual stroll of a bird

in their lovely wings

fragile steel oars

steering them through

all of the storms of life.

In the distance I hear Isithuthuthu,

a motorbike roaring past the hill,

breaking the nonchalant feast

of my feathered friends.

Frantically they scurry into the air

cackling their disgust

at having been disturbed

in their afternoon gathering.

What magic is there

on that hilltop

with only the Hadedas

keeping me company.

With a sigh I too scurry off

back to my house in disgust

at having been denied

intimate whisperings

with my dear friends.

The stillness of the silent waters

The stillness of the silent waters

by Dancing Rivers   Dec 25, 2018

I quite miss the uncertainty

of the roaring gales of fire

that were once the heart of this world…

For in those moments of uncertainty

imagination was as ripe as a sweet melon

whose juices flowed freely for all.

Yet I find myself quite uncertain

of the many roads to adventure

as they seem to leave me charred…

How could it be

that once I was as innocent

as the child that grew in my womb

Yet today I find scars in the pages

torn from the book of my soul

the many un-uttered phrases

Which may have saved my soul.

Indeed it was in those pages

that I found solace

I found the passions of life

In the darkest caves of my being

there I found my true power

the light within the darkness.

Still I feel as though somehow

with one subtle glimpse perhaps,

I could reignite that fire

Burning away all that was sweet

Giving rise to a phoenix

an array of delirious hazy blooms

of sparkling passion.

I am the phoenix, yet…

I find my wings to heavy to bare

the ashes hold us down

The fire consumes all mearth

Where we are

where we are

by Dancing Rivers Jul 3, 2017

Walk with me down the rabbit hole

the other side of the endless blue sky.

travel with me to a place only we know

where clouds are actually silver fairies.

Take my hand and go with me

to the place over the mountains

let’s dance in the rings of Saturn

and sip on the nectar of Jupiter

Knowing that we are free

knowing that where we are

love will follow

Unutterable ramblings

Unutterable nuances

  Dec 25, 2018

Ego, spirit, heart and soul

merge as one in the stillness

the blissful radiance of AH!

Sounds of God resonate in all-

forms of perpetuated existence-

numbing the void of Lux~ferre

the dark one who comforts.

The one who calls in the eve

of a peaceful morning

before light smiles upon the land

the one promising healing in pain

One in the same they are

Ah and Lux~ferre

angels of light and dark

They bare the same mark

of eternal knowing

yet we feed both with fear

and lust the sight of them.

When will we learn

All is one and one is all

we are but dust

in an endless sandstorm

eternally changeable

yet stagnant in egoic forms

of limited visions of tomorrow

We are as one wise man said:

“Dust and shadows”

swirling through the light of day.

Hoping for a better dream

yet swaying towards

our inevitable doom

Self sabotage

in the name of Source

Supreme stupidity we sing


*Poets note: Lux-ferre- latin for lucifer, meaning bearer of light or morning star

note that jesus was also called the morning star, hence the two sides of the same being.*

Whimsy is a widow’s wish

Dec 25, 2018

Whimsy is a subtle kiss

Of death on naked life

A sullen frown

Turned upside down

Along the rabbit hole

Whimsy is the notion of

Something rather fair

Yet in it’s depth

You might caress

Something not quite there

Whimsy is a sparkling gloom

Of whispered dreams at twilight

A subtle glance and then,

Perchance, you’ll meet your plight

At noon.

Whimsy is a widow’s wish

Upon a whiskey keg.

Yet in it’s kiss, rather brisk,

She found she’d lost her head.

Violets still bleed

Dancing Rivers   Jul 3, 2017

In this dark room I sit

contemplating the darkness of my shadow.

Where once there was ultra-violet perfection

I see nothing but shards of myself

Lying there like some corpse

awaiting it’s transformation

waiting for the winds of change

to melt it away like dust in the desert.

What grievances are there to ponder

in this corner of my soul

where once there was the laughter

of innocent youth, I see in it-

the scraggly rags of a life

torn by social dogmas and sorrows

draped in the sheer brutality

of misunderstandings and mistrust.

At what point did that pretty violet

become deprived of it’s fleshy youth?

If forgiveness were the scent

a violet gave off after being murdered

then ah, many may rest in peace

alas, violets still bleed.

Still claw at the last dregs

of dignity and hope long lost.

They still cling to dreams

knowing death’s kiss shall come






We are one with the divine

As a girl I used to sing along so mindlessly

to the words of the black-eyed- peas.

now I sit and contemplate,

where indeed is the love.

We have lived for so long in separation

we don’t save space for the realisation

that all of love’s wisdom is in acceptance.

Our ancestors offered us their guidance.

In vain the earth mother cries

“love my children great and small”

see the oceans rise and fall.

Where are the keepers of the ancient knowledge

where are those who dance with the Goddess

where are those with ears to hear

have we all become deaf and blind?

I want to speak what is on my mind

I find it hard that it’s hard to find

a little love and acceptance

when we should just go back to remembrance

All life is sacred!