Category Archives: Music & Art

~Hand of a Star~


I went to the Sun to request for the
hand of one of her stars
the bright shy one
the one who had crossed the paths
of my clan lands about
five months back

“My son, will the shadows of your love
that are cast on the brightest parts of your
hearts still grow more after
dusk comes?” the Sun asked…..

This girl….this shy star
she had the beauty of an entire galaxy
I could feel the rays of her beautiful
eyes warming my chest as I sat down anxiously
on a silver-lined cirrus cloud unsure
whether I would impress her Mama & make
her proud.

Truth is that I was confused
with love sometimes comes hurt
I couldn’t contemplate turning a
bright star dark
receiving her hand only to break
the glimmering glare in her heart….

As if sensing my uneasiness
her soft breath of breeze slowly cooled my racing
heart beat….
I fell into a trance imagining
a day without the Sun
a clear night with no constellation of
“I’m I man enough to walk this unknown path?”

“My Son!”
My eyes opened
glancing drowsily at the Sun
then gradually turning my neck to her
magnificent first born Star.

your daughter is the brightest living thing my
eyes have ever seen
You are concerned whether her destiny
is to be tied to that of a mere man like me
Her rays have been glaring hot on my skin since
I came in yet the compassion of her cool
breath has kept me cool within….

I am no Son of a Moon or relative to any Star
I sprout from the meekest of clans
the one made of dung and mud
Not an iota of burning gas burns
in my blood
I am as meek as they come
Yet what I bring is but what no other man has
the burning love for your brightest Star
one that will keep her brighter that the
light of the entire earth…..

Oh Mama
Our shadows will swim eternally through the
ground and through the grass
for a million dawns and a billion dusks
with our souls illuminating the entire
The brightest Star producing the coolest
The darkest mud generating the hottest

Little shadows mixed of
mud & gas will swim on the
dusty ground and silver-lined
cumulus clouds
You’ll see them jumping around even
after Sun down….

Rainbows begun to form
raindrops snowflakes sun-rays
I felt the blood in my left palm
instantly turn warm
I knew her hand had been placed on



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Timeless wit in our midst

no universe can contain her spirit

Still She Rize

Unmatched zeal

sharpest thoughts curved in mahogany ink

Still She Rize

Warmest soul one can ever meet

more calming than sunflower seed

Still She Rize

More majestic that the Adriatic sea

lovely being

even bees proclaims she’s sweeter than honey

Still She Rize

I can hear the caged bird sing

I can feel the fire in her cool spirit

free at last to eternally sing

even after the congregation says rest in peace

Still She’ll Sing.



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Lady Mystique__Part3

“Excuse me Miss, you’ve got some grass on your hair” I said calmly.

Outwardly, my body looked confidently cool, calm and composed. Inwardly, all the regular body operations dragged, jerked and shouted “System Overload!”  Nonetheless, the first part of my plan had taken root successfully. ‘Lady mystique’ slowly attempted to clean the imaginary ‘mess’ that she thought lay embarrassingly on her thick dark afro.

“Has it all come off?” she innocently asked.

“Just a little more on the left; don’t worry I’ll get it out for you” I sneakily replied.

I skillfully began to stroke her hair softly; first on the right side and then artistically proceeded to the left. I could not risk reshaping the one sculpture that every lady spends most of her time and money on: hair.  Before I could complete the honorary task of ‘de-grassing’ the natural crown of ‘lady mystique’, the forbidden occurred. Our eyes met. I knew I had overstepped the zone of no return. It happened so fast that my mind experienced a terrifying short-circuit. The glitch sparked off a spiritual tsunami, which generated an electromagnetic reaction that in turn ignited an emotional overdose! In simple terms, I collapsed.

To say the truth, it happened like a three-punch technical knockout; what boxers call a TKO. When my eyes and those of ‘lady mystique’ met, a strange red light sucked my mind into a ghostly trance.  Next, I heard Grandma’s cautionary words; they begun as a whisper then grew into an ungodly high-pitch sound which ruthlessly tore my eardrums igniting a mental trauma. Finally, my eyes slowly opened just before I head-butted the concrete floor and blacked out. The rest is difficult to disclose. I remember very little about the events of that mysterious Monday when I met ‘lady mystique’. All I Can say is I have never touched a girl’s hair since that day…


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Lady Mystique__Part2

My grandma often warned me never to touch a girl’s hair.  Any African in his right mind would not dare confront, let alone question an elderly woman’s instruction pertaining to maters of lineage or tradition. For reasons known only to our elderly, ‘our ways’ vehemently stipulated I keep my rough manly hands miles away from the black keratin serenating the soft scalp of a member of the opposite sex; that is, a woman’s hair. Grandma’s words, just like my father’s, God rest his soul, somehow never connected with my intuitive brain. Their words often reminded me of those boring mathematical formulas which students repeatedly recited with priestly devotion but rarely applied them correctly when solving examination questions.

Curiosity to approach the mystique lady gripped my mind harder than a hyena’s deadly bite. So vicious is a hyena’s bite that once this laughing creature clutches its prey’s flesh, its ‘steel jaws’ naturally lock only to open after it rips off a massive chunk of meat from the helpless moaning animal.  The spell now cast, emotions somehow overriding all logic, my feet begun marching forward meticulously, merging perfectly with the rhythm of my heartbeat. It felt like I was walking on a tight-rope with a blindfold tied tightly around the eyes and handcuffs solidly securing my arms behind my back. Oshun, Orisha of Love, must have felt pity on my foolish self that she swiftly birthed an idea in my mind just as I sat down beside ‘lady mystique’……………..


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Lady Mystique_Part 1

She entered the room silently, in low heels, shaking curly hair, no Indonesian weave or synthetic strings, just a unique dome-shaped half-combed afro. Everything about her was un-classic, yet something about her appearance magnetized my eyeballs. No mascara on her face or piercings through her ears. Her soft caramel skin slightly exposed on her arms and shoulders; no strange patterns or tattoos, just tiny dark spots reflecting the merciless thirst of highland mosquitoes. Slowly she sat down, barely wiping the dust lying lazily over the brown thatch Maasai mat. There was something electric about her glance; somewhat jolly somewhat cautious. My papa used to tell me never to approach a girl whose facial gesture were difficult to unravel; his advice rarely found an iota of wax in my ears willing to take heed of his wise words.

Every rebellious cell swimming foolishly within my bloodstream decided to make a move on a girl whose mannerisms were more confusing than a set of identical biracial twins. It really does not take much insight to realize that my species, also known as gentlemen, impeccably exemplify a breed of indifferent idiots rushing toward the ‘battlefield of flirtation’ without optimal training, quality weapons or strategic thought. That said, I consider myself a relatively intelligent and highly intuitive young man. Not once have I subscribed to or exhibited the kind of reckless behavior vividly described above, at least not until my brain partly processed and sparsely internalized the subtle image of this remarkable dark-skinned female species displaying an outlook unbecoming of mainstream ideas of a ‘classy’ woman…..


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***River Side***

chillin' in Italia

chillin’ in Italia

They say words r a powerful thing
better yet how u arrange them
u ever try writin’ a poem?
I did n it changed ma life 4 real
ended up meetin some amazin minds
cool re-unions in tha piazzas of Italy
singing songs n sippin’ wine
dancing halls n cigarette kisses
chillin back crunching croatian cookies
while listenin 2 amazin poetry pieces…
Riverside vibes, cocktail smiles
sittin’ beside,a gal on ma right
very cool, she very nice
u can jus tell 4rm tha look in her eyes
n tha way she says “im fine”…
And in a flash like that relaxed side ba side
a stranger would hav thought we were long time friends…
good good times n interestin discusions
H&M, Italian (wo)men, n even Malcolm X…
Some things one just cannot want to forget
runnin with luggages to catch Zagreb bound buses
Exchangin heartful smiles n soothin hugs
to keep us warm n reminicent on tha gud times we’ve had
Cherish them till tha next time we meet
& do it all over again
with ma new found fun-tabulous friend…



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When I’m not writin’, patterns take over ma hands…


Original Art by uThanDiLe(c)2013

Original Art by uThanDiLe(c)2013

Original Art by uThanDiLe (c)2013

Original Art by uThanDiLe (c)2013

Original Art by uThanDiLe (c)2013

Original Art by uThanDiLe (c)2013

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Posted by on May 8, 2013 in Culture, Music & Art


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