You’re a goddess to the Khoi,

Luckily I’m not one of them.

I will not bow my head so you can prey on me.

I know it’s your favourite dish,

But on mine you’ll not feast.

And now that we have mated I shall dismount quick,

Quicker with my feet than when we had our courtship dance.

Staggering side to side like the way you move;

Wounded but alive, bitten but not poisoned.

Looking back – I adore and abhor your colours,

Your beautiful camouflage!


© Heath Muchena, 2013

A Writer’s Work On A Woman III

The difficulty lies,
Not in a man’s ignorance of a woman’s wants,
Daunting as they are to realise;
But rather in the seeming impossibility of fulfilling her desires.
So that attention will not fill her tank,
And bags of best friends – her bank.
Neither permanence nor security.

He who has loved plenty
Will be knowledgeable,
And he who pays attention
Will realise…

It takes more than a cheque, be it blank
More than he can give or lend.
It’s more than just a matter of solvency
But more about being dissolved,
Being sucked into her womb, and
Repaying the debt for bearing you.

Only when you’re in her arms,
And sucking from her breast,
Will her desires be satisfied
And the difficulty dies.


© Heath Muchena, 2013