| Black contradictions I am afraid of my blackness Its pagan Its primitive I only adore my whiter shades of my blackness A child is born Its pretty like a white child I am afraid of my blackness Its African Its Setswana I only love my whiter shades of blackness A maiden becomes a bride She is suddenly as pretty like a coloured I am afraid of my blackness Its backward Its unfashionable I only associate with my whiter shades of blackness A fairer sister is prettier than the thick-lipped babe next door But I love my African music My African dance My African food For my black pure soul Like a vampire needs nourishment |
| The brother who despised his skin The brother said I do not like a white woman To share a bed is like slipping into a sheet of milk The brother said I like a coloured woman The whiteness of her thighs ignite the fire I said The brother is confused The brother said I do not like a black sister Her blackness may rub off my skin I said The brother despise his black skin |
| Walking besides ones freedom Walking beside one's freedom Instead of going through it to glide off Mt Kilimanjaro to dive off Victoria Falls Walking beside one's freedom instead of dancing freely a gypsy dance, a San dance to a sensual song as if nobody is looking Walking beside one' freedom instead of prowling after her heart to follow the desire for a foreign lass to the snow tops as embodiment of free spirit Walking beside one's freedom instead of pawning the earthly and like a pauper, sleep under the moon freely fish the Okavango surf the Kgalagadi sands hike the Tswapong hills Walking besides one's freedom instead of casting aside the bondage to experience timelessness of natural fragrances and watch the sun rise over Limpopo River and embrace Kgalagadi dunes at dusk |
| Confused expectations I am expected to be strong, how can I How can I be, when I have to be gentle and caring I am expected to be strong, how can I How can I be, when I have to be sensitive and emotional How can I sweep the house when I only know how to chop wood How can I cook when I only know how to plough |
| Afraid of his feminity Are you afraid to cry A man cries when his heart is about to break Are you afraid to be affectionate Its girlish to show emotions Are you afraid to talk It will show weakness Are you afraid to show femininity You may not be a man enough Yet he is troubled he is anguished his lonely heart yarn to show tenderness his eyes, to let hot fluid to bath his face and be human again |