we don’t have homes anymore
 
wrapped in a dark cloud
angry floods
have swept away our peace & solace
 
buried alive in mudslides
of devastation
 
we don’t have homes anymore
a church is not a home
there’s a torrent
of fear
here
 
a school is not a home
 
there’s a social turmoil
here
 
a community hall is not a home
 
there’s a mutilation
of dignity
here
 
we don’t have homes anymore
 
that burn bright with sweet
memories & stories
around the fireplace
 
even our hopes
have no homes anymore
 
those in power have failed
to keep their 
promises
 
 
we don’t have homes anymore
to take these coffins to
 
we don’t have umsamo anymore
to take these spirits to
 
all erased & swallowed up
by swelled rivers

 
your smile
 
no face mask can
imprison
the beauty
of your smile
no eskom
can cut
the power
of your smile
it is warm
as the durban sun
your smile is sweet
like a mambazo song

 
thursday night
 
a tower of loneliness
stands still in front
of his heart
& only a cold  quart of black label
remembers his plight at hideout bar
& its hungry ear ate
all his secrets
on a thursday night
drunk & upset
until he found himself
sunk & burnt
between the glory thighs
of a german tourist
her lips dripping of mulberry juices
deeply dipping a poet in her poolside
after an extensive pata pata
to end a poet’s kalahari times

Zama Madinana is a South African poet based in Johannesburg. His work has appeared in Stanzas, Botsotso, Carapace, Poetry Potion, The Thinker, Sunday World, New Coin and other literary publications. His work focuses mainly on love, politics and social issues. In 2021, he won the third prize of Sol Plaatje EU Poetry Award. He is the author of a poetry chapbook Water & Lights.