Energy Of Love

I think we are all born to learn to love. 

LOVE is supposed to be an unreplaceable lightbulb. 

The lightbulb is already inserted- inside the child’s chest. 

Once the mother holds the infant and nurtures it

The energy of the mother’s love should go through the lines to connect to the child.

 And the mother’s love touches the child. 

The lightbulb shall be on. 

Once the infant lets the mother love it, its love grows. 

But some child grows up without the mother’s love, 

Or it grows up with broken lines and did not receive the proper energy of love, 

It grows up with so much energy-of-love 

Then the energy source of love dies in different ways, 

And the child’s unreplaceable lightbulb becomes dull because the energy of love has slowly faltered until the love dims. 

Or the child can have so much source of love from its mother and others surrounds it. 

But what of the child whose energy of love has dimmed? What will become of it? 

©️ Tshepiso Malete 

Words paint So of Sit

So went to see Sit,
Saying like, look, you relax so much
And So preserved, I want our peace,
And Sit smiled, thy heart shall peace
So left to a world of difference,
All describe with, wonder in the world,
Thou imagination of So and Sit,
But let Stand-up for thy soul

©️ Ismael Mansoor

One Day Then May It Is So

Abundant is with me,
And Wealth sends all money,
And ensure they work for me,
Then I summon Amen,
And the forever days smile,
Abundance, overflowing,
Like the eternal river,
And eternal self-atm,
Oh, the Miracle!

© Ismael Mansoor

One Day Fantasy meets Reality

Day One where everything changes,
And Day Two where all think about,
And Last Day where all are miraculous
Oh, have Belief and Faith in the heart,
Of all the blood that serves the Holy

© Ismael Mansoor

Mysterious about fondness…


Love, it’s opened!
Is it open?
Come on!
It’s going to be awesome!


Thank you!
Hey, give me back my love, you feeler!
I suck.


How are you so good at love?
I’ve never even played love perfect.
I don’t know.
There’s felt to how love is feeling think.


I do feel it,
but you sure as heaven does.
Feel the love.
Feel the love.


Hey, Love.
You’re an Infinity,
And it’s time to show the inner world.
Attention all inners

© Ismael Mansoor

My Abstracted Mind 

I painted my mind,

In many colours; abstracted art

In red, blue, yellow, green, and purple

I was so satisfied.

Then I met someone with a small canvas mind.

I imagined what their minds look like,

Oh! It has no colour, just darkness.

I tried to paint the colours of the small boxed-minds

It just seemed unimaginable.

Because every colour kept fading back into dark colour

I tried to stretch the canvas to a bigger size,

But it kept shrinking back to its original size, and it straightforwardly said, “It is what it is”.

I was so frustrated with this small boxed mind.

Because the colours of the painting energy that have been inside of me keep growing and growing until they can’t hold it anymore,

Then they finally exploded out of the darkness,  inside of my mind.

Those colours splashed onto my new mind canvas.

And I gazed at how beautiful my brand new mind looks.

It has more deep-meaningful colours and no longer hidden from the world.

Now, I am content with my new abstracted mind.

© Tshepiso Malete 

Tshepiso Malete is a poet, writer and song signer. Ever since life hit her, she has been rewriting poems to express herself. She has visions in her mind that cannot be explained verbally but written. Tshepiso was born and bred in Johannesburg, and she is well-known as a song signer to Deaf South African Community. She is currently wearing two hearing aids. She takes so much pleasure in listening with her hearing aids, many songs and analyse the song lyrics. Her videos are on a YouTube channel:

Letter to Women

Dear Women,
All walks of life
Here and there
Far and wide

Lookism society we live in,
We are constantly bombarded with social media feeds that tempts us to compare ourselves
Like.Share.Follow. is a ‘get self-love quick scheme’
For us,
Destruction criticism is the norm
Our mind is on the verge of collateral damage
Reality TV show us everything BUT reality
Advertisers tease us with promise that their products will provide perfection
Heredity, Genes, and DNA is the blame
Our body size is the problematic issue.
We strongly dislike our own self-made tattoo
We are happy to insert ink sinking into our flesh
Unmindful conformist, we have become
Vanity is the new black
Modesty is no longer in our dictionary
Hate is easy. Love is hard.

Dear Women
All walks of life
Here and there
Far and wide

You are unique and beautiful just the way you are
Every part of your imperfection tells a story
Create the art of letting go
Paint it with a radiance of Love
Embrace and Acceptance
Take your invisible crown back on
Lift your head high
Up in the air, I raise my fist
Hear our echo of the chants
“I’m a Woman!”

© Megan Holmes

Megan is a deaf mother of a deaf daughter. She is a bimodal user (Hearing aid on the right side and Cochlear Implant on the left side), and her daughter is a bilateral cochlear implantee. Megan was born in Cape Town, and she has lived in Johannesburg since 2016.

Curiosity is her middle name. A lover of learning. For her, the world is full of interesting topics to learn and think about, and of course, chat about it with others. Megan is known for being a social butterfly and having red ants in her pants. Her passion is to help others, and to witness the action of changing the life of another person is an incredible feeling.”

We All Have Our Purpose

No words to tell thee, how life made,
Oh, no words, what Afterlife looks like,
But I have words to tell thee,
We made that we came here for our purposes,
So, fill our destiny of making the difference,
Like helping, empowering, sharing, etc
Then we are safe in the heart of the soul.

© Ismael Mansoor