Matlapa Maphologela

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I'm addicted to words, drink letters, eat phrases and paraphrases.

Few see my behavior relate me to a poet.Others say I'm a writer.
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Early in the morning I heard the sound of a chicken, woke up and went there. To a place called work by many and making a living by few.

There where I create future structures with present planned drawings. We did them all.
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I started being addicted to words when I was 17, life taught me the meaning of them as I grew older. went thru the modules named situations, I learnt and passed few, others to re-do in the next semester.

Far from graduation, the course it's Profession in my own field. Enjoying daily lessons and weekly assignments, well prepared for semester tests and yearly examination.
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Life goes around in cycle, it's direction it's clockwise, going tic tac as a second to get to a minute.59 minutes left not far from an hour.

So fast a day is as old as 23 hours 59 minutes and 59 seconds, don't look away because the calendar will change to the next day.
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It was painful to me and all pleasure to you, situations placed us in different parts of living structure.

I was hurting to the core, happiness and money was all you cared for. Surrounded yourself with glamour and temporary fantasy, I was there inside reality surviving day by day.
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Child hold on, hold on tight.
Tight like you do in a womb with umbilical cord, attached with mother to reach your future of being born.

On earth you will be detached and on you own in a literal form, situations will be given to you, the goal is to learn. Hold on not long your presence will be yours alone.
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From the distance of fear to closer I got, not that long I was happy but now I'm sad. I blame none but emotions.

Your are the one I thought I had control of, I lost you. how could you embarrass me like that.
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I, hope am not just a cover
as I sometimes make you feel less of a lover
The motion of a lust
It's not the thing of must
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Your the star, you make me appreciate beauty of the night. You shine lonely among the rest, you remain bright. You're the one that I look upon.

With or without moonlight you're my lullaby, I fall asleep to the picture you give me. In the frame of darkness only you brings light.
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I went with the sentence and got myself in a paragraph, with semi-column and full-stop, I was on my way to tell a story.

Metaphor, character and sound of my voice mixed with emotions they speak my heart out loud.
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The journey started early in those tender age, we had no choice but yet chosen.

As gift to those who were lucky, we played, learnt and grown.
They came a time were we begin to navigate through life and understanding what is wrong or right.
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I have been to love and saw pain, feeling from within was bitter only to the things i did not know but feared.

Tell me about romance I know that moment, it cost me alot from finance to sacrifice.
She told me 'I love u' with a soft voice I believe and took a sit to those words, eish! it was a lie I believed she told me that.
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I know her from school, she was driven by friends and pride.
They told her if she sell her body, she will never be broke again. Her beauty and booty fit the shelf, men went crazy to their wallets and banks all in the name of pleasure.

She became a different girl far from a lady, age visited, she is broken and well broke. Looking back no bank knows her name. Expensive clothes, gorgeous jewelry & high priced hills no longer fit her old skin.
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Went through the morning of day, it lead to an afternoon and always knew I have a date with night.
I lived it.
It was partly cloudy with abit of lite rain, later felt the heat of sunlight and became part of the weather.
I felt it.
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We are people, all humanbeings.
Personal and emotional we all get,
Race to be among the rest, not far from our own.
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I met her , she hugged me offline. It was like love at first side, feels developed faster. we kissed and started visiting each other, the bond grow bigger. It was meant to last.

Days became longer without her presence and shorter when I was with her. The relation went far with full of lies, little truth told it was a rough few years.
Like was in all the celebrations we had, pictures we took for remembrance deleted and burned.
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It felt like that song, that touches my heart, soul, mind and body; I knew I can turn up the volume and listen to it catching the beat of my heart. Flowing with the stream of my blood, from top of my head to the tips of my toes.

As I press repeat to begin the thousand miles journey to love, care, beauty and fearless land; with only two feet, fire in my soul, hope in my eyes, strength on my body. Knowing I have 1000 miles to go before finish line, I started enjoying the journey.
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I took few rands in my pocket and bought a 660ml of castle lite not only to remember the class of Charles Glass but to enjoy the moment.

In a process of emptying a bottle of creativity, I got 4% of alcohol in to my stomach to digest yet got myself in meeting with me, It was just for a little while before I level up a bottom of bottle with my forehead.
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My mother mothered me,
She mothered me with all the hard-work she did in someone's kitchen and feed me with their remaining food as a child. I remember she told me a story about my grandmother being a house-helper like she is. I got anger with the legacy chain of their blood line, I studied hard and varsity pulled me down with their high fees. Would be doomed to continue hard labour sweat like my mother.

My father fathered me,
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