mmemezi khumalo

mmemezi khumalo Poems

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The Iron Lady

She is an emblem of beauty
A tale of old, the joy of tomorrow
She is the present of today
She carries herself of a lady, and it suits her
She draws the hearts of men
She gazes deep into their souls
Her eyes, a convulsion of pitiful beauty and a deep sense of beautiful sorrow
Bold and sharp, her eyes sting.
Feeble and inviting; a lady like in manner
She says less but means more I know her not but my soul yearns for her.
I look at her, she stares back almost expression less
My bowls tighten I sense her hidden desire beyond the sting of her eyes
She loves me, she loves me not?
I want to speak to her; I need to Lips moving, heart talking
But my speech fails me
She talks; I look at her, eyes not blinking
My heart settles; I put weight back on that chair
I don’t know what she is saying, am deaf
'I’m Mmemezi' I say
The beginning and the end of my sentence interrupts the middle of hers
That name flies out her memory as quickly as it had come
I expected it to be so, a cushion pre-laid.
Then I began to talk
Talk for a heart overwhelmed by emotion
She entertains me, houses that tender heart
Gives it hope, hope that she would crush unwittingly
I choke, I shiver
Overwhelmed, crushed
Bruised ego and tainted pride
A broken spirit, stung and startled
The weakness in me is made more apparent in her strength
A dark cloud of tangible white blackness engulfs me
My soul fails me she ridicules me, she scorns and torches the tormented heart
Politeness isn’t her weakness neither is modesty
She treats me of an animal
Where is the lady I saw, I ask myself?
She is still there, beautiful as she was
But her soul is harder than it should be
I am scared of seeing her; I am scared of not seeing her
Bitter sweet
She is the iron lady
Annoyed by feebleness
Her own statue must annoy her
She is the displeasure of the rising sun
The dawn of the setting sun
She is the beauty of desolation
I could have loved her better I shout to myself
By my rules we both lose, I tell her but she is not moved
I’m a better loser I console myself
I’ve lost her; she never loved me, so she said
But she has lost the one that loves her, loves her so much.
A greater loss but I know I’ve lost her
The feeble iron lady

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