just a native.

Pulsating heat, alluring me with matriarch warmth;

This city, these people;

From Signal Hill to St. Georgie’s steeple;

Table top smiles and the sounds of hajis trading breyani recipes;

Sambals and cymbals, mother tongue precipitates;

Don’t mind me, I’m just a native.

Cobble stoned ambition;

Frown lines and Cape Flats intuition;

Spill over into this valley of lime and concrete;

Of hope and stealth and glory;

Spiritually quenched by distorted history;

Enveloped by art, irrigated with ancient drum beats;

Perfected through tribal sacrament;

Don’t mind me, I’m just a native.

Verbal symphonies, age old tales, slave ships and fish & chips;

 Snake oil identities, ‘five rand a bag’;

Colonially defined by a fictional tag;

Beauty and pain;

Equal parts of the parcel;

Haunted by screams, lost ghosts chained to a castle;

Fortress of good dope around my heart;

This place which birthed my dreams;

Augmented a near reality;

Downtown minstrel, uptown liberal;

Kaleidoscope souls of Obs hippie and Kloof creative;

Princeton pongs, craft beer throngs, gatsby superlatives;

Don’t mind me, I’m just a native.



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About melfunktion

Love child of a lover & a thinker, elegantly flawed, anti-socialite, curious, purveyor of Africanism, a life seeped in music, unashamed soliloquist, androgynous feminist, always dancing on the inside, flowers in hair, heart on sleeve, breathe to create, create to breathe, perpetual goofball, graceful klutz, stars & scars, beats & bars, just a human, being.

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