Nkululeko Mdudu

Nkululeko Mdudu Poems

I knew what you did to me,
But I didn't know why;
So I labelled It Love,
And I let It lie...
...

When this head
of black strings turns grey
When this spring
September turns to chilly May
...

Yeyiphi eyona nzala kaXhosa?
Besifudula sineeNkomo,
Bafika basinika iiBhokhwe.
Basinika iiWotshi
...

Awu!
Inkomo kabawo
Yalalis' uphondo!
Umelusi wayo
...

Who said........This is poetry?
Who said........That the words are free?
Who said........This is you and me, not us or we?
...

Mntwana weNkosi
ndikuthanda ngako konke

Amandla emithi,
...

And though I write these saddened words
On the white sheets of forest abhorition
Owing their malice to both industrial
And to aboriginal organisations of destruction
...

There will always be something wrong today;
That might have been right yesterday,
But who are we to decide what is wrong and right,
For today or any other day or night?
...

Behold, a marvelous sight!
A handsome Boy from morning to night,
Self-reliant, self dependant and oh so brave.
No one's king and no one's knave.
...

Shh...
silence sweeps the crowd
of anxious faces
waiting to see
...

We tend to reduce things:
Books to pages,
Sentences to words,
Eaons to ages.
...

Miles of sand and stone. A sight alone.
Mountains of mist. Alone I list.
The sights I see. Only me.
With no other. None to call brother.
...

Young man, why do you look so old?
I'm not sure; it must be my beard,
Or the many strange stories I've told.
No; it must be this hat, it looks weird.
...

</>Why should I write an English poem,
When the English write their own?
Why should I seek the symbol's hope,
When I've never met the pope?
...

You tell me I've changed,
I can see you are right.
Your tongue do restrain,
I do not want to fight.
...

I remember days
when I sat alone
In the dark,
with savage beasts
...

Ndincwela ubuciko
boku cengeleza...

Ndichwetha ubuchwepheshe
...

Ngubani uNelson Mandela?
Nduxoleleni ndizibona ndibuza

Bath' ungubani ngesiLungu?
...

Iphupha elizolileyo,
Iintupha ezomileyo,
Ulwimi olunxaniweyo,
Isizwe esoniweyo.
...

Love is a different thing
A funny thing
A piece of string
A wedding ring
...

Nkululeko Mdudu Biography

Nkululeko Gilbert Mdudu is a goat herder who grew up in the villege of Shiloh near Queenstown in the Eastern Cape. He was largely influenced by his grandfather, Simon Gilbert Mdudu who; along with his wife Beatrice Mdudu my grandma and the magic of the legendary true stories of their lives have shaped me. I am mad about my culture'and the world is a diamond', they said; but mainly about the story of how man creates his own Universe. All my poetry is from a place I call 'Ireshire' which is my world and soul. I have been called many things, but sadly not a poet. this could be due to the fact that poetry has always been a part of my life, only not as much on paper as on the tales that bind me to that place....the things one can do in dreams like have two birds in the hand but wake up only to find a closed fist , yes I have always been haunted, and helped by my dreams and the messages that lay hidden within them. Maybe I was not meant for this world for it is far too limiting, but from my limitations I have learned to fly inwardly to the planet of my soul. It all sounds mythical, as do I, sometimes, but a voice is what I'm looking for, not in language but in life. I struggle to understand the burdens I carry but I'm drawn to carry more; not as possessions but as pals.)

The Best Poem Of Nkululeko Mdudu

! ! ! -My Love Has Loved You Best~! ! !

I knew what you did to me,
But I didn't know why;
So I labelled It Love,
And I let It lie...

Deep within my soul,
Safely stored until now.
But without me knowing,
grew stronger than my vow.

A prisoner outlasting jail,
A slave turned master;
A Thing I can't restrain;
Towards you, moving faster.

As if It smells the blood of Its own kind,
and longing for Its mother there to rest.
It can't see, hear, taste or touch,
But I know my Love has loved you best.

Nkululeko Mdudu Comments

Md Zuhair 22 February 2012

good thnking............and rythm

2 0 Reply
Refilwe Ranape 18 August 2008

this is a very compulsory expression, it's strange how we never think or compare a bicycle with life, and yet we own, ride, see this commodity everyday...well thought! ! ! ! ! ! 10+

4 0 Reply

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