As The Journey continues!- I REALIZED...

As my pride restored i began to realize that knowing lessens the pain, but accepting heals. So live each day for you as no one will live it for you. all the time you spent living for others, let those times be boxed in your mind for they shall never be relived.those who hurt you and kill your spirit by throwing acidic words in your face or back... wish them a long and prosperous life so they can see your future success for they will realize  you are not Replaceable!

The Road Less Traveled... THE SUN BEGAN TO RISE!!!

 

My written word is testament and its shouts shall echo through time.for i am,for you are, for we are the lost generation that is being found/rediscovered.

For those who do not see though their eyes are wide open, open your mind. to you who is alive and does not live, open your heart. to you who speaks and cannot be heard, let the hands speak for you...to us whose screams are nothing but whispers in the deafening silence...

words....words coupled with actions can cause an unwanted attraction of senseless connotations and denotations which can and will drown the tainted soul for there is a wild internal tempest that rages as the winds of doubt begin to blow and i wander...whose words or actions could calm the raging spirit which i have dubbed my internal tempest my souls eyes open wide as the gentle winds of Azanias whispers soothe my soul...i hear my soul speaking...telling me about my Mother, as her smile caresses my face, i realize my Love for she shall always provide...yet we continue to take...this is to you...AFRICA...

AFRICA

Africa

Land of dance

Land of rhythm

Rhythm in your hands and feet.

From the tribal dances

To the boere sakkie

The phata- phata to s’pantsula

These are the dances of the past.

Mzansi Africa

Land of song

From the tribal war cry's

To songs of struggle

From kwela to kwaito

These are our African traits.

South Africa

Land of struggle and pain

From Shakas wars to Hendriks laws

Songs were sung

Songs of praise, pain, suffering, bloodshed and longing.

BAYETE’INKOSI…Shakas' warriors would sing in praise to the king...

BRING BACK NELSON MANDELA…The oppressed would sing asking for the hero to return.

SENDZENI NA…The youth in the apartheid era would sing asking what they did wrong.

NGIKHUMBUL’EKHAYA…The miners would console themselves,singing in the dark trenches saying they mis home.

This is proof

Proof that rhythm lives in us

Proof that songs will be sung

Sung for generations to come

Living proof that through songs… we express our admiration, disappointment and pain

Songs bring us together.

Africa

Land of  legends

Thandi Klassen..”the shebeen queen”

Nelson Mandela “the black pimpernel”

Mzwaki mbuli “the peoples poet”

The lates

Marium makeba

Walter Sisulu

Hecter Peterson

Mboniswa

Oom bei

Not forgetting  the unnamed fallen solders who died for our democracy.

MA AFRIKA

We have come far

The rhythm and beat of Africa flows in us

MA AFRIKA

We have come far

Let us not turn back

Let us go forward

Let us unite

Let us sing for god to bless us

NKOSI SIKELELA IAFRICA.

And my pride slowly began to be restored....my lost thoughts began to trail back home!

The Road Less Traveled...cont.

Apology...it has been a while since i wrote anything in the diary, time wasn't on my side for alot came at once. Now that all has been cleared... The Diary of A Blaque Diamond Continues.



THE HARD TIMES....LOST in my own realm of uncertainty,my once beautiful mind began to slowly whither for the fire that once nourished now destroys, my once pure heart slowly began to gather dirt for I had become...boxed!My dreams limited, My smile meaningless, My screams silent and My tears non existent...as my mental eyes glazed and emptied... all i could do was attempt to decipher my confusion,as my hand began to speak....so i let the pen translate....i became...The Boxed Writer!
 

BOXED WRITER

I sit in my boxed sanctuary.

For I fear what I have become.

The mask I once wore with pride has been broken.

For they knew I can't...

For they knew I'd never...

They knew I could never walk with the same pride as I did.

My mask of fear,

My mask of falseness they have taken it.

Have I played right into their palms?

For I have chosen to hide,hide in my boxed sanctuary.

For life is a story

Like you I am a character

Those I befriend are those who make my chapters

For I have embraced my NUBIAN KING

as I am to be crowned the NUBIAN QUEEN

for the chapters I am bound to embark will be those of ROYALTY as i am tested.

The ultimate test of LOYALTY

as I see the kingz NUBIAN personalities.

For we are mearly characters

Who do you choose to be?

For I am the writer of my own destiny.

Which I proof read in my boxed sanctuary...

I Proudly remain... The Boxed writer. 

This to me had seemed like the end and then i remembered...the sun does rise in the morning and i realized, i had broken my soul because of another beings self doubt and then i  realized that...

some things in life are better left unspoken, some feelings are best un-felt, some words are better left unsaid. Do you know how many souls you kill with the poison that comes out of ones mouth. but then again who am i to judge...i judge you Not but remind you of the pain we put them through!

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED - Hardest of Hard Times: The Drowning...

There are times when one is called a dreamer for they just sit...staring into space...mistake that we all make. Ever wondered what you would hear if the body spoke about realy happening inside...if the heart could talk, know mine would have walked right out of the cocoon that my spirit calls home. this piece is one of the begining of a painful chapter...a chapter in the Diary of The Blaque Diamond...the Hardest of times....for we never know what is realy happening in the minds and hearts of those around us... this piece titled...THE DROWNING...


As she..

As she sits she feels nothing!
Her eyes to a waLl embraced by the darkness
Emotions...
An illusion of conformaty...
Slowly her cacoon sways...
Back... n forth, back n forth.
Pace non existant...
Pulse a distant reminder of what once was...
Mind wide shut for the internal hurricane has begun
How much
How much battering can the bomb ridden wall around her heart take
As she...
As she stares
Slowly her eyes begin to fade,once black to a shade of grey...
For her soul has fled...
Her spirit hung on the noose of redicule
Her mind tears like over flowing for the wall has broken...
Her pulse a distant faiding reminder of what once was...
Her heart beats...slower...and slower
As her dreams sink deeper and deeper...
So she...sits
Eyes a distant shade of grey
For she...
Drowned in the hurt...



Take time to ask how another is doing,you need not know them...but kid words from a stranger are more powerful then that of a friends. strong people also do need a shoulder for we all are human...we may fall...some to never rise again...yet kind words from a stranger could unblock the emotional dranage system avoiding an internal flood!