Secular Music -Sensitive Ears

Grab some’body sexy tell em hey, give me everything tonight, give me everything tonight

For all we know we might not get tomorrow let’s do it tonight. (Neyo)



A noose around it

Let your inner dirt and grime hang

Suspend appliance chords from collars

In hopes suicide will be more than just attention-seeking


A piece of rubber to formalize the corpse’s appearance

When u tired of being

A one-night-this, Once-off-there, and “oh them”

Blemished by soul-Ties.

Sounds sexy doesn’t it?

Like it could be the title of a Marvin Gay number,

So jam,

Till every blood cell is hammered

A ballade

Composed with just enough “uuhhhms’ of sweet-nothings

An arrangement up of smooches

Which begin on the lips

 And queues those to follow to your inner thighs

A bass with a questionable foundation

Make-up the intimacy

When into-me-he-claims-to-see.

Your Love kneeling at alter of a self-proclaimed-god who doesn’t see love as holy

Doubts scratch on the vinyl of your fears

Huk, like they’ve been overplayed

You acquire a taste for a different melody

Where inverted commas hug deep meaningful lyrics

because truth is we only remember shallow catchy choruses

so when they sing about protection

And tune us about being Cautious

There’s something about the verses that makes the subconscious really nauseous

I only have a certain appetite

That a particular diet can appease

Only sticking to one meal when I can have three

Later, makes food poisoning the demon of me

We turn up the mmmhuuhm-uuh-mmmmh-ume and listen to desire

As if the night were momentarily blinding sapphire

Reason finds it hard not to jerk-off in the fire of passion

Nowadays everything’s become collaboration

Maybe that’s why it’s never clear which genre we like listening to.

We rock and roll

To a fast beat beating the sense out of our upbringing

Our grandmothers teaching

Our heart strings

As if they were harp strings

Strummed by fingers that have never learnt how to read music

We experiment anyway

You can’t learn rhythm

He says

It is something we are born with

The things people say in the heat of improvisation

In these jamming sessions

The blues kinda sorta sound like opera

And they somehow could be praise                                                                                        

Bodies’ recklessly abandoned in rage

Hands raised

As if they were being crucified


And crucifying others

A sanctuary full of praying mothers

And washed in the blood praying in tongue brothers

Could never retrieve a leaked single

From going viral

This is one of those songs that get stuck in your head

For some people to dismiss it they purposely sing it aloud-

On buses, while walking, in showers,

In bed

And unfortunately the one listening catches it

Anger wells up in your eyes

Regret is shed

That single gone viral now

Breathes in your blood

We bear witness to empty studios

Where broken instruments

Lie dormant trying to get their groove back

After careless fingers have played Dj with pure soundtracks

Scratched the only hard copy

Of the original recording

When they sang about protection

And tuned us about being Cautious

I should have allowed the subconscious to become really nauseous

Vomit out these voices

Repeating the same line

From that god-awful chorus


 “For all we know we might not get tomorrow”

Koleka Putuma

[Written for (and performed at)  the Drama for Life, Lover + Another/Hiv/Aids-Themed Slam Poetry Competition@ the Sex Actually Festival 2012]


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