Curse: The Same... Poem by Thabani Khumalo

The curse the that exists on earth,
in respect of life as a living being -
the curse that hovers over the mind of the planet:
this by virtue of a number measured
against the book intelligence of the brain -
there is a curse that controls the spirit of the earth;
a curse that permits man to only want to read about God,
every person is stuck under the tight constriction of a repeat mode.
I say this because I can feel it blowing within the particles of the wind;
people aim to deliver pain every time they touch a partner -
people have deep hatred for the physical bodies of other people.
People stick to the physical routines of the painful past
and fail to understand the feeling of the present,
yet they yearn for this confusion to continue into eternal future.

If you really ought be saved indeed,
then hearken to my words of the only true wisdom, beautiful woman!
Do not expect me to perform the same pictured dreams of your past,
I am on a path of reformation and, in it,
there is a direst need to feel the present.
Move therefore and be one with me in the middle of tonight,
be friendly with me because I am the same -
as the one you were once around and whose body you felt -
as he... your God!