Move Something_

It sounded like a Thud

That thundered,

 That tremored,

That trembled,

 An oscillation that allows

The scenery to resemble your inhibitions.

Intuition’s practically compelling you

To have a singular perspective. 

Move Something… 

The strong one is content with peace

Even though his wrath is ready. 

The weaker one injested cryptonite

Now his casket is ready. 

Move Something… 

Rearrange the furniture, 

Sometimes the expenditure may not be immediately available, 

So we turn to a tender hand, 

Or the one who has a tender in his hand

And give him the laudables that belong to God. 

I put 10k in the bosom of God 

And oscillated His heart, 

I moved something. 

No sooner had I done that 

Than he christened me His fragility and His wrath, 

The sweet-spot of His heart. 

He put 10k’s in my sockets

And gave me a sniper’s vision. 

Now we see further than Oracles and Soothsayers

We became smooth sailers with this precognizance

And then we laid open and bare the truth 

About the witch and the doctor. 

It confounded the traditional-healer, 

He couldn’t tell which doctor… 

The traditional-healer couldn’t tell which doctor 

We were referring to. 

And then heat of the sun was commissioned 

To provide us shade day. 

And then the heat of the moon was commissioned 

To provide us shade by day:

The greater light and lesser light 

They alternate shifts 

They move something_

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Peculiar "Ph D" Khumalo, born and bred (and buttered) in White City, Soweto, the liveliest township in Africa in 1987. Attended Boarding School at Bophelo Impilo and Matriculated in 2007. While his erudite endeavours do not venture beyond Matric, he had long been told he had a way with words, a hype he still has a hard time believing. "Of all the pleasures of life, I relishes nothing more than a conversation over coffee" ☕