Mama... I Love You. Poem by Thabani Khumalo

Mama I love you,
considering how you relayed onto me
the best image of the world`s best designs.
In a world that knows nothing but infuriating lies,
Yes I know it is true... I am really really beautiful!

In a mirror anywhere I gaze for moments prolonged,
to dub the most important reflection of this life that I see,
and replay it over and over in my holy head, through out the night until it dawns an unduly dry and very difficult day.

All the girls agree that I take after a beautiful mother.
Though I am like a picture of a nebulous amount of words
hanging on the steep side of the wall,
they really shouldn't look at me in the way they do -
so let there be a deadly war among the children of the slaves
under a dark seizure of a murderous demon,
underneath the blinding dark shadow of their sickening raging anger,
where I try to goggle at my hands and fail to see my tiny fingers moving.

When every boy has battled it out to shatter their arms to bits;
when they have crumbled closer to their graves of mystic ambitions
(only designated for a long lasting sleep,)
in a vain bid to sleek the hazardous wishes of their violent mothers,
bleeding profusely through their noses under a heavy cloud of flying dust,
while I'm happily seeking to achieve another priceless masterpiece -
when I put on a smile that captivates even a day old baby lying on its back,
that's when all the pretty girls look at me with talking eyes.

They insist on that when they see me anywhere,
they suddenly jam among the reasons of life's dogmatic myths
and begin to feel that somewhere in the scary darkness, God is there.
They are really fond of my easily decent natural look -
it is the recourse that puts my neighbors out of their depressive worry
and I'm growing a tendency of loving it to bits.
It is the best of leisure any man may come to encounter.
So I prefer you above every other mother on earth or down under,
I prefer that everything good
and of splendor be yours and come to you quickly,
so I work towards the same efforts everyday.

I can feel the good air of things coming to me now,
it is here in my hands... I can strongly feel it in the palm of my hand.
I've come to object the lie that my good works and wishes are powered by evil!
I don't wish for malice to befall any one person upon the land,
therefore my sentimental life is completely well.
There will also be an answer in stacks of money as in the homes well masoned,
all the attacking aches will be transacted
under the doctor's care at a full amount,
for him to keep in his syringe for those who care enough for malady
and those who pursue after issues of death...
Pretty soon I`ll learn how to really care.

Soon I will know how to truly care,
I will be the true brand of the human race
because I know that all the prayers of your youth were true.
If your God were to need of you to place a solo request,
then ask for Earthly riches like the woman of valor should...
only pray to be industrious enough to gain a good profit.

When I grow up and grow a tummy that bulges under the coat,
I will build a big home with a centre garden
of the oldmaker and the other wilder flowers,
even the cleverest goat will not be able
to eat them at their colorful soft petals.
Everyone on Earth shall fall at your bosom for spiritual aid,
for you are the true Queen Mother of the Barmbyan Empire.
Mama... I love you.