The Whirling Storm.. Poem by Thabani Khumalo

They went up in war arms, one evening
and strapped their guns to the waist because
they were prepared to fight a battle and win it:
Two scary thugs agreed to go lurk for blood money
along an isolated and quiet road, as usual -
after sniffing white powders of the American doctors.

Along the way, bustling as they went,
they were scary to look at and smelled like the ultimate pain of murderous death.
The rain drizzled in serenely soothing showers
and as they resolved to seek a shelter from which to lurk;
or the bait with which their prey would be easily lured,
this inlieu of running gyrating errands in the toxic grass.
Their victims who would be fatigued, unsuspecting victims
trying to avoid the drench of the rain after a long day
of hard labor at the white man's fuming factory.

Suddenly - unexpectedly all of a sudden,
either by the wrath of the angelic God
or the evil of a fiend directing a man into Sathani's hands,
the sky broke a multitudinous big bolt of fancy lightning,
one that preludes a charging lurid light under the eyelids,
it then ensued a rolling mighty thunder that leaves
a ringing silence at the tender posts of the eardrum -
ever fading in a slowly diminishing whine.
It proceeded bigger drops in a quick-tapping patter,
and the heavy city became densely darker
under the natural light of the saggingrain clouds.

Yonda - over there,
at a foggy distance where the bright sight can wander,
they spotted a vacant vendor's shade
put up underneath the tree of death next to the narrow bridge
and figured it for a branded snare of warranted fortune -
just on the other ghastly side across the totally lonely road,
still holding on to the same grudge that obliterated their forefathers
(their forefathers who died mysteriously)
many years before they were all born into physical life.

They ran into the shelter in a 'haste and pent, '
peeping onto Earth from under their hideous hoodies,
turned around with each scary man being posted at the open front corner
and so quickly it did another obviously swift-moving man.
His emergence seemed kind of impossible to fathom
because the road had been empty all along as they came -
just the sweeping chaff rolling with the wind up to the knees.
He quickly ran between them
and also posted right at the darker central back,
which was somewhat too dark for a mere glance
or a glance with no focus to sense a sight.
That was the cause for them to squint and stand a shuffle closer,
but he smiled like a man that had just escaped
the pouring drench of the rain by a slim chance.
The smile was utterly static below the lifeless eyes.

It took the notorious two a second look into the dark behind them
to notice that the weird fellow wasn't at all blinking -
even though his eyes were goggled-out like that of a dead goat:
he had a long shiny beard under the shadow of his massive hat,
he donned an occultics gown that stretched down to cover his knees,
and tight denim jeans were recognized to run straight down
rolling into brand new leather boots with trooper straps,
and all the apparel was completely black in color,
including the chiffon around his neck and stones on his earlobes.

Way below his meaningless smile was a nudged-out arm
holding a shiny sickle - daring sharp in his hand, the hand that was sheathed into a black leather glove.
They looked steadily at him with curiosity frowns between the eyebrows,
the height of the fix suddenly ceased into stone cold sobriety
and left them nourished with their focus of canal birth -
the stone cold sobriety gaining steaming velocity in their streams of blood.
They looked at each other with overwhelmed talking eyes
to try and deduce from the other what ought be done
because the guns at the filthy belt line
were loaded and ready to murder something with breath -
and yet, the guy remained at the same pose without a flinch
until he subsequently looked into their eyes -
from one to the other and still, the awful smile remained wide at the face.
He looked again and then he said: Hello!

Once he nicely greeted, they felt a slight
and sudden attenuation lock at all the joints,
they promptly fled the shade and ran hard against the whirling storm.

This is an awesome scene that actually transpired
in the year 2010 when I was still a young man.
I have grown to see these men turn around all their vicious ways.
One of them became that mad preacher
that continues to yell to the commuters in the train,
the other drew back apathetically at a corner
where he begs every hard working passerby -
some of the few shiny coins they got paid.