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MEMOIRS OF A LONELY SOUL!

poetry

2016


RhapsodyPoetry_Group

6/3/2016

MEMOIRS OF A LONELY SOUL

Why I write

To let my feelings known to the world and purge the pain embedded deep within my heart; to show that my wound lies deeper than my cut; to spill out my emotion with applied ideas like lotion; to create images that go beyond vivid and memories that I could re-visit; to tell stories of my life’s expedition that when I die, this book will be my re-incarnation; to shout into the void and hope to be heard and to live an indelible impression with these words said and to give hope to a nerd, because a radio cassette never chooses which tape can be played; to speak out those secrets that are so clandestine within me, because I trust nobody with the ink in the pain (pen) inside my heart; so I expose my whole in this book instead of a part, because in truth it is my love that leaves me hurt; to illuminate like the moon when it’s black and glow scintillating like the stars in the dark, because all I ever really want is just with these words to live a mark and that is why I write.

With the power of my pen to erase my pain; washing away my tears like the rain as it storms on my brain so I could fly without wings as my lonely heart sings; floating in the sky yet my heart sometimes remains low, because how can I be right when I am always left behind? Otherwise if my heart remains broken then how else can I be kind and if eventually they will hurt me then why ask if I mind? Because these poems are the scapegoat to my silence; cold shoulders for the freezer yet I drop words like sleet; expressing myself in words with wit, so if I never fully understand life then I’ll just sit, because feelings in all my poems are really the gist and when I take off my shirt I promise to give off heat, but the truth is laid far from what it seems; so I use these words to merger reality with my dreams; poetry to tell my story, so behind this pain I am concealed wholly because in truth beyond my smile I really am just sorry for all the wrongs I’ve done and I hope my words can captivate hearts including that which hurts because my feelings really, are why I write…

Blind faith

I gazed upon an Angel with adoration, hoping to myself if she could fall into my arms I’d never let her go; thinking I’d be her pillar, that even if her name is Victoria, I’d still never let fall; except head over heels in love with me, even though I know nothing about ladies shoes; but she’d be my Queen, for like 30cm, even though she doesn’t know it, my heart she rules; See! Because even though others say she’s short, I just believe she’s down to earth; because I’d still love her as much even after death and I swear at her smile my legs trembled, knees weakened and my arms got heavy; while I prayed for that day when in bed together we’d both be lazy…

I glanced upon a shooting star, hoping to myself if it aims at me I wouldn’t need anything bulletproof; because her voice is the only music I desire to raise my roof; See! She glittered brightly across the sky; while her beauty let me shed a tear, even though I didn’t cry; for a second my heart froze and I felt numb; while in her arms I felt young, kinda like a sheep and its lamb; except when I opened my eyes she was already gone; like the shooting star that she was, she shot past me, through my heart living only glimmers of what could be termed as hope; that maybe next time she’ll be trapped by my heart and will be mine for to keep…

I gazed upon the moon, hoping to myself it’ll make me whole rather than crescent; while my tears will form a lake on my chick for which she’ll drown into my request; she blossomed bright in the heaven unfettered by the number of thick clouds below her even if they were seven; million miles separate her heart beat from mine and several seas created these rifts; but I carried her in my heart like the single sky and these stars it lifts; I swear! In my heart is where she belonged; for when she left, this void made me realize that for years it was for her, I longed; see! Even though many moons have gone by, I have known no other to make me a better guy, because even though I wait, I know not when she shall return but still I believe in this blind faith… For

Savage Winds

Savage winds do blow through the hairs on my head; my ears do shiver from the raging sounds heard; I looked to see through the blistering cold only to see falling leaves; yet every time I seem to move forward, her memory from my heart never quite leaves; she touched my heart in very special way without using hands & I fell heavily in love for her than a crashing plane lands; I remember her warm smile like a crescent moon & I swear! My girl was hot kinda like the sun at noon; only time will tell like the sand dune; when these savage winds do change tune…

Savage winds do shake me off the ground; she swept my feet and I fell into a feeling so profound; I wrote poems for her like a university dissertation; while she melted my heart, I swear! She was my inspiration; we had never changed provinces but I swear! Her kisses were richer than a copper belt; I had never been a gambler but, she was the queen of hearts and those were the only cards I dealt; for a second my heart traded places with my brain and I fell for her more than I thought I would; but there was no shaking away my love just like the trees stand firm against savage winds when they blow more than they should……

Savage winds do blow away my top to render me shirtless; but her beauty did more to me than leaving me breathless ; it’s like there was traffic on my tongue because I run out of words to describe her; while a journey through her heart was a euphoria that brought me so far; I got lost in her heart, but the truth really is that I never wanted to be found; because her every heart beat was as beautiful as the humming bird’s sound; as she spoke to me gently when I was down; I realized ,it was really her smile that chased away my frown; because in the night like the moon together we did glow; I guess what we had was something so beautiful, but sadly, it left to where ever the savage winds do blow…. For

Beautiful Birthday

Beautiful skies, birthdays never tell lies,

Happiness comes from the mending of all broken ties, I MEAN!

Joy comes in the morning when no one sighs,

Despite the scorching of the sun,

It is forgotten on the rise,

And only true friends are present both in your joy and cries,

I could say happy birthday but that maybe too corny,

So I just wanna wish you a smooth life despite it being stony,

So if ever I disappear from your life just know I protect you in my heart even though it's not bony,

I MEAN, live today, laugh your lungs out,

Trust in your smiles and never cast any doubt,

For birthdays only come once in a year...

No journey is long just as long as by a knife your short-cut,

And because you couldn't understand me instead you sat,

Stepping over your sorrow like a door-mat,

See even birds in the sky have haters but remember revenge is a dish best served when cold,

So we are the waiters,

And not just followers but rather the trend-setters,

So live today worry less about tomorrow,

Because only true friends can love you to the marrow,

See they say stars exist even if they may not be present in the sky,

Just like true friendship can never die,

So believe in your heart because feelings never lie,

I MEAN! We had a zillion things to say to each other but we begun with hi,

Smiling for one another and no one ever asked why,

So together we boned like a chicken and a bun to form a pie,

I forget it, I guess all I wanna say is just, HAPPY BIRTHDAY...

Beautiful sorrow

As she takes a stand and points to the highway; I realize in that very moment our paths may never again cross, kinda like the Great East & North roads; and by the swing of her hand like a pendulum her eyes break and water rushes out on her cheeks; a heavy thump is felt in my heart, kinda like a blow from a cannon ball; she swept my feet and every time I stare in her eyes in love I fall; but somehow this time we repel, like the like poles of a magnet; while she leaves me hanging like a clothe on a rag net; I swear all I wanna do is brush away that liquid that's ruining her make up from her chicks; but the magnitude of this repelling force even gravity can succumb...

Her steps from me kill the little life I have left; how can one steal your heart yet never be guilty of theft? And unlike the Kariba dam, my eyes are flooded; and I wanna at least just say goodbye but my tongue is stuck in traffic; the red light curtails my words; I must be dead because I can't feel my pulse; lights deem or maybe it's just the music that's hindering my heart's beat; either way something is seriously wrong; you see I miss you kinda like crying for rain in the summer, I mean! How could something so beautiful be the cause of ugliness in your life? How could the source of joy be also the factory of your pain?

You know I still remember her face like a porter; those big eyes; silent breaths and her smile could never falter; but now when I call you my words seem to run shorter; I mean! Why do great stories end in tragedies? I concede yes, this is not like a Romeo &Juliet; Bonnie & Clyde and God knows not even a Jack & Rose tragedy; but I could have sworn, we started off more like Shrek & Princess Fiona only to end up like light & darkness; very antagonistic, we could not survive under the same roof and know happiness; even though I banked on you like Barclays and now we fall apart like autumn leaves; listening to your story with another man, I swear this gravity got me dropping like eaves; daily reminiscing of you my Beautiful sorrow...

Don't you cry

Up above the sky so high lies the hope everlasting; far across the stars and the sun, lies the love so deep to turn your scars into none; it's height beyond mars and its potency can't be tamed even with bars; up beyond the firmament is God's kingdom so permanent and deep in His book are words of a joyous element; so weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning and with His love to defy the laws of gravity; like a kite, so we could forget about falling; Don't you cry! My dear, don't you cry saith the Lord; for He has taken to the right all the wrongs you left behind( I said He has taken to the RIGHT all the WRONGS you LEFT behind) and your future is bright; wipe your tears; for His love will conquer all your fears. Don't you cry! My dear don't you cry saith the Lord...

Up above the sky so high lies the hope everlasting; so deep within the bosom of my heart lies the hope and I'm never doubting; because every day I wake up and these are the blessings I'm ever counting; discarding all my skeptism because in Him trust is all I'm mounting; so His love shall pour on me like water from a fountain; and I will give Him praise like Moses on a mountain; Don't you cry! My dear don't you cry saith the Lord! For no matter how much the wind blows it's always the sun that makes man remove his coat; and no matter how shameful your life may seem just remember that for His world you are the salt and therefore you mean a lot more than the number of times you may have fallen; Don't you cry! My dear don't you cry saith the Lord...

Up above the sky so high lies my hope everlasting; my heart ever beating; my eyes never weeping and patiently ever living because blessings the Lord's ever giving and His goodness and mercy my heart's ever receiving; so don't you cry my dear don't you cry saith the Lord...

Dear Santa

Give me a pen and a paper so I could expose that which lies deep within my heart; give me rain and reduce my temper so I could dispose off that which lies untold and unheard; those clusters of my heart unseen; from my heart the pain to unpin; give me friends so I could not remember solitude; cleanse my soul, so I could change my attitude; towards these people and indeed the multitude; because loneliness has me singing songs like Santa, come dear Santa...

See! at the touch of a pencil I wanna draw people close together with my words; I wanna reinstate love without a cost; friendships that were lost; great joy and my heart to be the host; at the touch of this pen I wanna evoke the best in people; and have an effect on them like ripple; and regardless of wealth or health all to feel equal; because I wanna give 'em joy like Santa, or dear Santa...

My wishes are known; if Christmas comes then let no one be clad in clothes so torn; let all smile and not mourn; all to be with family and none to be alone; because remember that's the day our Lord was born; so dear Santa, come dear Santa...

Lonely Bird

Let her shout out her feelings in a song; let her emotions speak louder than a gong; let her voice be heard over the Himalayas; let her heart's 808 beat simultaneous; let her sorrows be seen; let the hummingbird be her next of kin; I say! Let her eyes pour out rain; let her song describe her pain; stop her not as she cries; just let her alone as her melancholy dies; don't you act like you cared; because y'all abandoned her when she scared; she had no eyes yet she saw your plastic smiles; colder than June's feel on ceramic tiles; I say leave her alone...

See her wonder in the skies; trynna flee from this world full of lies; who was her voice when she couldn't speak? Who was her pillar when from Sunday to Saturday she grew weak? Who were her eyes when she couldn't see? Who carried her when she twisted her knee? Who cleansed her eyes? Who bonded her family ties? Let her be! Leave her alone, like you did when she was born; I say keep your compassion; now that you see in her glimpses of smiles you wanna have passion? Please! She tumbled and fell, never quite needed your help to face gravity but her brain; I mean she grew stronger because for each time she got crossed like a rail she had to train; she was mocked; trampled upon; loathed; beaten; but like a fine sword with great metal she was smitten; so just let her be...

Let her speak just listen; just be meek and glisten; let her smile; because of sorrow it really has been a while; let her flaunt herself; for she's no longer anyone's slave, just look in her shelf; let her rejoice in her own; like golden memories to pawn; let her rule like 30cm but only because she's the Queen; let her speak from her heart and worry not for it has always been clean; dare not to stop her for y'all abandoned her when she was but a lonely bird and this bird has always been my mother; that's why to describe her these words I gather...

#Love you momma...

The Departed

Morning mist clouds my path; a voice is heard; but it only ignites my wrath; yet nothing is said; I feel a hollow; through all this conundrum; and my eyes are watery with sorrow; I remember that voice; I have no choice; I just have to remember for 'tis a part of me calling; then tears start falling; because this mist impedes my view; and while words to use are but a few; what if I see that which calleth me? What if I hold it and never let go? For a moment I stand to stare and a light dawns upon the mist for it to disperse; then the image becomes clear; I fear but at the same time I wanna chear for I may be re-united with my brother; except am alive but his late; so this image is not real; it’s an illusion; a figment of my desires for fate for my dear little brother is departed till date...MHSRIP...For my late brother (Sydney Musongwe Simwaba)...

POETRY

As defined by

KONDWANI STANLEY SIMWABA

It is the definitive art of expression; the channel I have to my heart’s deepest desires and feelings; the bridge beyond physical experience rather emotional existence; the bridge to a world of immortality full of imagination; a world where only words live; where pain is unknown; it is a world of endless creation of possibilities beyond orthodox comprehension; it is my fortress; the only place with where if I cry, I find my solace; it is a world like no other; where feelings are nurtured like a baby and it’s mother; it is one word yet defined in many; it is what brings beauty after your cheeks get rainy; it is my comfort; it is art; it is descriptive of all that a human mind can imagine and beyond; it is talent bestowed upon a common mind with uncommon virtues; it is about anything and the only thing that can define nothing; it is an oxymoron, a paradox and indeed a conundrum of words; it is porch with both its sound and feel; its rhymes tougher than steel; it is the relief from pain beyond that of a pill; it demands patience, talent and skill for it is tactfully real; its shrewdness is both undeniably astounding and inexplicable; it is Art.

It is the revealing of secrets so clandestine in the heart; it is beautiful as much as it is confusing; it touches the soul and lands beyond the eyes and ears; its gravitational force enables people to fall in love with it; just ordinary words arranged in-ordinarily; it is written with: pens, pencils, markers and everything possible; it is gracious; it is short sometimes long, small sometimes big and it has rhymes sometimes metaphors; it has rhythm, pictures and a system; it is both eloquent and vivid hence it glows on paper; it has various styles of expression peculiar to the common man; it has taste unlike that overcooked beef in Hip hop; it is in music, dancing, writing and painting; it is both imaginary and very realistic; it is told from both creative thinking and experience; it is genius as it seeks to explore and is so, curious; it is just recitation of tactfully arranged words; it is everything I feel both inside out; my feelings expressed by this wonderful wonder and its love.

It is the fuel to my soul; it is indeed my whole for it is life and it completes me kinda like a good wife; it is true, complicated and yet simple; it is green, so peaceful and tranquil yet it is also like glass, so clear and fragile; I mean! Just like a model posing in bikinis on a sunny day, it is hot and though it does not reside in a freezer, it is fresh; it is as beautiful as a full moon; it is sad and lonely; it is also unspoken, like heroes unsung; it is captivating, like the tune of a hummingbird; it defines me; it is my vehicle, for it transports me to place of serenity and joy; a place of bliss and the peace of a sleeping baby boy; it lives in my heart; my dreams and my eyes for ‘tis all I see in the sky; it is the sound of a flute played amongst closed bamboos on an isolated island; it is everywhere; in the movement of trees blown by calm winds, in the swing of a pen on a writing pad and in the deep blue sky unfettered by weather; it is the comforter of an orphan, the husband of the widow, the voice of the voiceless and the child of the barren not forgetting the rise of the fallen and the belief in impossibilities; it is indeed immortality for it possesses the profoundest of good quality; it is what it is and it is indefinable and incomprehensible type of art; it is the beauty of life in its entirety; it has been passed on from generation to generation and still it lives on and it is all that I know; it is Poetry and it is truly all that I love…

TALE OF TWO STARS

There is a story in the skies, in the dark of the night and when you see nothing that flies, be not deceived for this story precedes mere sight: Brightly night in the grace of the moon and somewhere in the dark is a passion more fierce than to face the desert dune; while this passion entwines itself with the humming bird’s tune; for it began in the night only to hide at noon…

Ravaged by midday light, this enamor endeavors relentlessly to continue at the fall of midnight light; in the night something shines bright from above, look closely and witness this love’s might, as two stars of distinct galactic spheres merge to cause a bond of much more durability than serge. This is a story of two stars…

The Milky Way lays wide open; while its defenses are weakened by this inexplicable cosmic energy that causes these two stars to merge in a distinct pattern; eyes lay wide open; as the perception of this mystery grows rampant while no one dares to close their curtain; for darkness is only the genesis of this passion; so why fear? But look closely for deep therein lies a little bit of unresolved tension…

Inspired by the glow of the moon, an outpour of love escapes to meet the other star only to be curtailed by the reality of the distinctions of their realms; perhaps opposite poles on a magnet do not always attract; but rather like clothes on a rag-net, water, the sun will subtract. This is a story of two stars, destined for what reality does not allow; so even though they blossom brightly at close range in the night; their union is not yet quite right and perhaps it may never be; but what was, was indeed scintillating and this was a tale of stars…

TALE OF A CRESCENT MOON

Sequel to the

Story of two stars…

The weather is chilly, while the moon stands incomplete; appearing much less audacious really, for its other half is entirely obsolete. Unfettered by the mirror reflections of its void, it still stands for broken mirrors can not reflect its sorrow; yet deep to the coal of its very existence lies nothing but hollow and unabashed by this so clandestine truth it’ll still endeavor to glow in the dark, neglecting the very fact that unravels its once so mysterious ennui, now brought to light and in reality it is but one half of what was so bodacious and complete. On a lonely night, with a gentle breeze brushing through the leaves of tall trees; it shall surface past thick clouds, beyond the dense sky trynna pour out light; look closely beyond its smile shape for this crescent moon is but the remnant of a once so gracious enamor; it is what was left of a strong cosmic collision that once caused the universe to tremble; so careful not to misjudge this smile, for this goes beyond a mere tale of a crescent moon…

The birds don’t sing anymore, while the Hyenas no longer laugh; it was a tale of two stars that fell apart like autumn leaves and now the light poured is never quite enough, because the other part of the moon branched off like a broken tree to render this once complete moon into half and now everybody wonders when this other part shall return; while the uneducated professor yells never and the educated fool chooses to await its return if it takes forever; causing an inexplicable oxymoron; for this is a tale of lost love and not just merely of celestial profundity. See! Because on this darkened night, the moon’s better half was lost and so was the love with which it did boast; causing tremendous sorrow for which this crescent moon was but the host. A cold wind blows in this lonely night; while the two stars in attendance drift even further apart; maybe they never did quite belong to the same galaxy. Howbeit, they glowed brighter alongside each other and like a security at a Samsung mobile store, they too were but the guardians of this galaxy, but time drew them apart; while the moon lost its veracity and this half sits still for whence its better half shall return and balance, this celestial paradox shall regain…For

The poet's pen

I am the poet's pen and I give my life for poetry; because every time you scribble words on that writing pad I bleed ink; I am an instrument; I twist and turn just to have a conversation with the book about your most profound emotions; yet no matter how many pages I scribble through for you, your sorrows never seem to sink; I am the soother of pain; the scribbler of memories; call me your shrink because eloquently, I write down your wrongs; your story by me is curved; I am the poets pen and each time I describe your feelings shed my life; yet no one respects me as much anymore, I mean! I existed before keyboards & tablets; cell phones & gadgets I existed because I am the poets pen...

I made William Shake spears with his words and my ink; I made Maya Angelou speak out for phenomenal women and the caged bird; I am the poet's pen; I give my life for poetry; I scribble your pain, I am the one you tell it through; your trusted secretary when you confine yourself to that corner write what you feel; I am your therapist, one swing of me and your smile is real; I stand by your side in all, if anything in between your fingers; ready to tackle pages and pads; I am the poets pen; They call me Ball pen because each time I stand on paper like a ball I dance out what you feel; I am the poet's pen so trust me with your innermost pain and allow me to pour out ink on these pages like the rain; because I am the poet's pen...

KingTMC*

THE POET’S PRAYER

Open mind, single thought ; your love to find for ‘tis thee I sought; Hearts so kind for tis the at fault; when our hearts did bind lotsa demons I fought; By your broom, off my feet I was swept and while I was still on the ground I knocked you down head over heels you fell by my words ; you made me smile, at your sight hairs up despite having a brush; I swear sometimes I’d even blush; when you mentioned my names I’d be shy; I had heard them before several times but from you was always my favorite; I couldn’t tell if it’s because of your British accent or because I belonged in an asylum for being madly in love with you; I thought of you every chance I had; sometimes I’d be guilty, because I thought, I thought about you one too many times someone would read my thoughts like an open book; but I swear I thought about you and nothing else mattered…

In time I shall have you and we will be united like Manchester football club; I belong in your arms kinda like a lioness and her cab; I may be In-sane but if you are the subject then I don’t see why anyone would wanna be out; sometimes I think I was born to love you because with you I don’t feel any doubt; could be that I wait in vain but the little seconds our lips were in-sync is enough to make me forget about the pain of having to lose you again; See! I miss you so much but I just blame it on my poor aiming skills; so every night I pray you return in my arms your once circle of joy; I mean! My friends think I’m losing it but in truth I have never really been good at winning either except for that little time I won you my Achilles heel.

Dreams

Everything has it's time; see the sun will appear in the morning; happiness shall come after mourning and rising only comes after falling...

Everything has its season; that's why rain never falls in the summer nor snow in the autumn and it's never hot in the winter...

Everything has its reason; that's why Christians are saved through the death of Jesus; while criminals are punished for committing treason and Guavas appear when mangoes leave us...

I mean! I wonder if maybe I lived like D'vinci would I then draw more attention with my pencil for people to picture me smiling like Mona Lisa despite my ignorance in Adam Sandler's mega pixels or if for every time I failed I started from scratch without breaking my nails would they grow at least 6 more inches"?

See! Nobody really believes in you unless you give them a reason to; understanding that even the tallest of buildings had to start with a foundation and so many forests were cleared just to create a nation; I mean, the cardinal thing in life is to believe in yourself more than you expect others to believe on you...

Everything has its history; even Obama became America's president from Dr King's prophesy; we toil the ground for food because of Adam & Eve's fallacy and the Jews despise Hitler for the Holocaust in all honesty...

Everything has its season; no one ever plants maize in the summer unless they have irrigation; just like no one moves with umbrellas in autumn for fear of rain...

See! Everything has it's time; that's why 1964 was chosen for Zambia's independence; because reality is but a product of dreams...

Motto

I am not a victim of circumstances nor a host of consequences but rather, the product of victory for the living word is the hold to harvest and the endorsement of glory for I am the Memory Child....

Don't come to my funeral

Wounding in shame as poverty got the best of me; you existed calling upon the Lord in blasphemy; as you cut me aside from you like an operation, vasectomy; watching as I trekked the vast earth in pursuit of greener pastures; yet your fields even greener you kept out of my reach; my needs so obvious yet blind your eyes were; when I cried you were there; even asking with me if life could be fair; when I fell you laughed, even made me an example of what not to be for your children; my friends you were but through trials you just stood to stare; not even a tap on my shoulder in my despair; yet my eulogy you write with love and care; your passion so rare; so attending my funeral I suggest you don't even dare…

Broken

Tears flood my eyes as I look back at my life; trynna calculate the many things lost throughout life's journey; but my calculator seems to only report Syntax errors and though I parade myself from Monday to Sunday in these seven days I still lie weak; apparently my scars are bleak and the cloud of fear above me still lingers thick; Memories of pain from what wasn't but could I've been shoot straight into my brain, discombobulating the little sanity that lies therein; See! I once lost myself in this Euphoria, except good times only last for a while and the saddest take ages to end! Now since scars never mend; my heart, I never lend; so even though my shoulders are bulged; my chest huge and my voice is really loud; it's always my tears that get the last applause...

Every time I wonder why I still hang around; then I look at what God has blessed me with and in that moment all my tears seem to back flow; while my eyes then glow; I realize nothing could be greater than that which I hang on for; I just pray my grip is sufficient enough so I can never fall; I wonder if ever there was at least a bandage that could clot my heart's sore; so I could prevent my internal bleeding; while I internally cry; suffocated by this life and regret is my daily friend yet there is beauty in all this idiosyncrasy; so I put up a façade; knowing fully that someone whose been here before may recognize my fall and maybe offer to touch my heart; so they can transform my whole and in rejection I appear so tough but you and I know that inside I am but a BROKEN soul...

How we broke up

I walk around in darkened silence; seeking peace among the fallen;

And every turn I bend to; your face illuminates much more than the moon standing over me; by a simple swing past my face your image like magic turns to dust; reminding me that all we had is but in the past; and as I listen closely to the hummingbird my eyes into tears just burst; emotions crowd my heart so fast; the speed of lightening feels ashamed; but these are feelings untamed; like Cupid arrows, unaimed; see but maybe when you were mine I didn't really have you...

You were a part of my heart, kinda like an artery; I mean I depended upon you like you were the Hepatic Portal Vein; circulating blood all through my lifeless shades of grey; and somehow with you I usually had nothing to say; but like a loan to you full attention to pay; I swear! Your love was like the light that brightened my way; and removing you from my life was kinda like subtracting the sun from a summer’s day; I mean! I miss those smiles; those times when we rolled our backs on tiles; and those walks we took in miles; you were my Bonnie thus to you I clang like a Clyde; ever thinking we'd die together or live in this love forever...

So let's take a drive back into memory lane; hoping there's no traffic; I mean let's dance in this rain; but hope it never ends like a Romeo & Juliet tragic;

I need you in my life to remove this pain; but with you to do the magic; see! baby you were my serenity; and I need you to focus like tranquility; because without you everything else is but vanity; so come quickly my love or at least someone exculpate to me, how on earth! We broke up...

Forgotten Memories

In pursuit of light I gaze above, looking at the stars; wondering if they make bandages for the heart to mend my scars; see! Maybe I should have bought you flowers when I was your man like Bruno Mars; because the pain in my heart from missing you is louder than musical bars; I mean I do recall that day I shoved you to the grass; we laughed about it like I was copper and you were zinc bonded together to form brass; see! Our romance stood out from the rest like a bright student in any class; I just wonder if you remember all the memories we shared so bright; because for you I could have guaranteed victory in any fight; I mean! I miss you so much, I just wonder if he treats you right; because happiness for you is my only plight and even though from you I am outta sight; I pray those memories like a poem, when alone you recite

Do you remember those rains? Those rains that fell heavily on us the night we got socked and I clang to you while kissing of your forehead, I said to you I’d never leave, see sometimes when alone I think it’s really because of you I live; you saved my life in more ways than one, ‘twas your love that made me breathe but sadly we fell apart like autumn leaves. See! I don’t even look at ice-cream the same way because all |I remember is you throwing it on my face on my birthday and I swear those are the saddest days; because I know you loved me in about a thousand ways and I it’s quite pointless like a broken knife to point at who did what; I mean, I wonder if, if I wrote your name across the skies, just right next to where the angel cries, would you recognize the efforts of my heart’s tries to reconnect our broken ties? See! I loved you; like Nimbus loves rain and I couldn’t do without you kinda like pain without gain. It’s pointless...For

#pensive thinking

Gentle Breeze

There is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it my heart thumps with Joy; there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it happiness is my ploy; there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it I grow away from being just a boy; there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it I don't hurt because my heart is no longer a toy and so with my feelings you can no longer toy.

There is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it I grow strong; there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it for once my decision to face my fears is not wrong; there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it my heartbeat leaps into a song; there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it my face is no longer long and so my success to come will not take long.

There is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my heart, warming every part so I can no longer cry; this gentle breeze makes me feel like I could fly; see, there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my heart so with this beauty why then should I sigh? I tell you, there is a gentle breeze outside rushing through my window and with every ounce of it everything is mended including my broken tie, so the truth shall elate me and not a lie...

THE POET’S DEATH

The clouds came to a hold; as the singing bird lost its rhythm; in that everything turned cold; while the sky lost its system; the sun stood still; while the moon forgot to glow; as kings from around the world came to kneel; and the waters from fountains forgot to flow; truly the earth had lost one of her own; as the sun and moon stood together tall; and in that moment it was difficult to tell dusk apart from dawn; while the winds blew the trees for leaves to fall; Everything Lay motionless for a King had fallen…

Pages and pens wondered where the writer went; while pads and canvases lay unpainted; ‘twas really his touch that felt like that of a saint; now the gardens lay dead, while the roses remain unscented; the readers wonder where the magic went; for ‘tis only plain words they see; up above the sky, among the stars his soul was sent; while his rhymes missed for they were but deeper than the sea; The skies darkened at his demise; while the rain got a cold shoulder and poured only ice; Truly from earth a Hero was stolen…

BROKEN HOPES

I will sing a song and hope that everybody hears it: I will stand in the blistering cold and hope I don’t freeze to death. I will stand right next to the sun in pursuit of a brighter life and hope it doesn’t scorch the life away from me; I will climb so high and hope gravity doesn’t pull me down; I will recite a poem and hope to touch someone’s heart; I will draw a painting and hope to evoke everyone’s deepest feelings; I will write an ode so profound and hope to draw you close to my life, because when you see my smile, you don’t see my pain; when you see my cuts, you don’t see my wounds and when you read my lips, you don’t read my mind.

I will cry so loud but you will not hear me; I will scream for help but no one will hearken; you will mortify me and I will be broken, my self-esteem, stolen and my hope will be shaken, because when I pour my heart to you, it is me that will end up being heartbroken; when I trust in you it is me that will be thrust out (ball pen). What manner of pain, what manner of sadness? Questions with no answers; distance with no mileage.

I am able but in your mind, you disable even the slightest possibility of me being capable of rising above the table (water), I fell so many times but I got back on my feet and I have lost count of my falls (Victoria), I am like a small place in Africa (Pretoria). Oh! How contrite my spirits have become, just take a look at how abstract my thoughts have become. I am discriminated against because of my social status! Like a plant my color has faded (Lettuce). Why see my disabilities instead of my abilities? Why see my hollow when you could see my glow? Oh! How broken are my hopes…

Tonight! I let you go

I look in the skies and a billion stars smile at me, I can almost see you beyond that vivid blue sky, but each time I look to see you, it seems as if the big luminous moon has something to say to me; if only it could talk. Years have passed but I still think about you; 1996! That fateful year, you breathed your last; 1996! That fateful year you became a part of history; gone but not forgotten. I try to imagine what would have become of me had you been around, but each time I do that, I feel a cold breeze rushing through my ears almost as if you were talking to me and telling me everything will be alright; I want to believe that, but it seems life has a way of mocking me; I want to cry, but somehow it seems as if you curtail my tears; I want to stand, but somehow I still fall. How much pain will a man endure?

Ironically I miss you yet I never really knew you; I have memories of you so vague I believe they are misguided. We could have been a dynasty, but that’s just a dream I have; I hope you are fine wherever you are and that’s just the hope I serve; sometimes I feel like crying and I need you to say it’s alright; sometimes I feel like quitting and I need you to say let’s fight; sometimes I can’t see the way and I need you to give me sight; sometimes my life seems so dark and I need you to give me light and when I am deranged, I pray you’ll be there and be my knight.

Dear brother! Dear Sydney our thoughts in harmony and never in agony; because our hearts beat in euphony and if you were alive, I suppose we could have built a colony; so tonight I let you go brother, but the memories of you from my mind I will not evict, because in everything I do it is your goodness I wish to depict; so may you rest in eternal peace Brother…For

Always remember to smile

I did not realize how high I reached until I fell; how strong I was until I broke nor how bold I was until I coward. I laughed so hard I could not hear my raging heart hurt; I smiled a lot but did not realize how broken my heart was; I came to sights with my worst nightmare; my nemesis even with prayer. When I looked in the mirror; I saw distraught and anger, my heart was throbbing; my eyes were sobbing, but somewhere deep within that enigmatic visual I saw hope; a smile pulled with no rope and my deepest pain eloped; I wrote an ode but put away the message; I sang a song with no rhythm and I made a painting with no image; the psalmist said I sang my sorrows and the artist said I depicted my emotions; it was a song so eloquent it the ears could not pick the lyrics; a painting so vivid the eyes could not perceive; a song too soft for anyone to hear except my comrade, the bright moon.

I woke up in the middle of the night and cried until my tears ran dry; I had wings but still could not fly. Why do stars glow in the night? Why do birds sing and why do dogs bark? Because when I cried my little brother laughed; when I frowned, he smiled; I was in pain but he could not understand; my mother was weak and my heart was bleak, it was breaking because the pain was too thick; I was too broke to pay attention to hope; I had fallen from the top and no one was there to grab me; I was wounded with pain but no one was there to nurse me; when I fell no one was there to catch me. I preached about my pain but no one hearkened; I complained but no one listened, I felt so abandoned amidst friends, no one seemed to notice my pain; in my maim no one remembered my name and in my shame no help for me came. I wrote a poem whose message was hidden, the poet said it was the art of expression; my song was full of pain and the psalmist told me never to forget my smile no matter what and so I say; always remember to smile…

CAN YOU FIX ME?

Windows wide open in the night; as I lay wide awake with terror in my eyes hoping for a knight; I fear my own misdoings, my lies and secrets have embedded in me a sense of profound fear beyond relevant; a topic in my room that’s not up for discussion, like an elephant. I plan to take these so clandestine secretes to my tomb; I am enshrined with over excessive pride to admit that I am broken; I need help or atleast someone to pick me up in my falls like Victoria; I don’t wanna pretend to be the capital, when we both know it’s not me; like Pretoria; I am a contrite spirit let me warn you! So careful when you come to me; for there is no loving me, I am broken; there is no trusting me, my secrets are not outspoken; but if you are convinced I am the one, then you better ask yourself this: Can you fix me?

Wounds lay uncovered as I expose them to the sun; I’ve been the cancer to your perfect plan, not sure if I could be called your son; see! I’ve made you shed tears, maybe blood too; like a bad movie you wouldn’t desire to see my part two; see! I pretend to be alright but when the night falls and the serene wind blows, in the midnight when the moon glows and like a lonely wolf my beaten heart growls; I am broken, though I stand firmer than a blue gun tree; I am distorted, though I speak English finer than old wine; I am helpless, so I ask you once more if you think I am the one for you; I ask you with terror in my eyes and blood dripping from my nose; I ask you with tears in my eyes and a crack in my heart, can you fix me?

NOT JUST ANY WORDS

These are not just any words; these are my stories, my life and my feelings; this is not just mere poetry rather, this is a conviction of those values held so dear to my heart; I mean! Words alone are empty, but these tell wholly of who I am; this is not an ode like any other, NO! This is a weapon; to conquer all my fears and maybe act as my comforter in solitude and wipe away my tears; these are not just any words, No Sir! These speak for me; the weak; the voiceless and the helpless; these are a sequence of life, so look beyond punctuations and the sentencing; look beyond the spellings and the paragraphing, because only then will you fathom their cause; see! These are all I’ll remain with when everything else shrivels and dies; when I lay naked with no clothes and my smiles all turn into cries; I mean, everyone has been bestowed upon with immeasurable abilities and I use these words, that one day I may also touch the skies…

I am not a magician but I could conjure these words to depict my soul; I am not a physician but with my words I could heal a broken heart; I am a rhetoric and that’s why my words are so sublime; see! Because they can take away my breath but my words will last the test of time; these are not just any words, so look beyond the rhyme; for herein lays my whole worth, even when I don’t have to my name a single dime; see! Something told the birds to flap their wings and fly and it turned out magnificent; something told me to pick up my pen and try and it turned out beyond benevolent; I am not a ventriloquist, but I speak for the meek; I am not a doctor, but my words too can heal the sick; these words can fight for the weak and so I will keep writing ‘till one day I stumble upon that which I seek…

WHAT HAS BECOME OF US?

I never would have imagined that it could come to this; two birds of the same feathers flocking away from each other, but maybe in due season when fruit departs from tree and the sun from the day; when night falls and darkness covers the firmament; when the tree divorces the leaves and clouds are seen no more; when the poet lays down his pen and can’t write anymore, because his inspiration is gone; when the artist can no longer draw any attention from his followers and the composer can’t make do with his ‘heart’ beat. I wonder, what then shall become of us?

It was inevitable though inexplicable, we just played dumb and it remained unspeakable. This day was coming but we both ignored the truth and comforted ourselves with that which we desired and wished for; I swear I could pen them down in art, all the things I dreamt of; all that I desired and hoped for, see! Because the same things I prayed for scratched my heart beyond bandage repair, but who am I fooling? It has been too delicate; I swear this heart has experienced more falls that the mighty Niagara itself; so to say I paid attention to this journey would be but a blatant lie, because we both know how broke I was. I just wonder, what then shall become of us?

They told me what they thought, but I rejected their counsel and when they called me fool for making ‘Tazama pipeline’ dreams I just darted from them; I mean who are they to comprehend that which I feel? Who are they to question my emotions? I swear if I was a story teller, I’d tell it to my children’s’ children so they can understand, because as it always has been, ‘those who know not of history are doomed to repeat it!’ I know the reader wonders too, what then shall become of us?

All I had I gave away including the biggest part of my heart, but I guess no one could ever resist that which comes quantitatively more than just a mere heart; then I heard a bird shout, “It is too far away a place, the ground for me to fall for you.” I smiled at its honesty but it was raining heavily on my cheeks and even I could not fathom the act but my heart knew than most, that that which it held on for had finally given out and left, so profusely it bled and to this day I still wonder, what then has become of us?

I CAN SEE CLEARLY!

As the lights come on and I begin to see the truth that lay before me even though, I chose to look so far beyond; the dream that never made any sense was a reality awaiting my exculpation; a fantasy that stared right into my eyes and yet I blinked and ogled at the wrong sight; though Reppunzle stood before me, it was Cinderella I really needed yet I was blinded by the former’s mighty hair; even though she spoke to me so tenderly, my heart was never really there; she fell in love with my words but I never really did care ; that which defined me is what she loved and I couldn’t fathom it at the time; so now before it’s too late I wanna describe it with a rhyme and this is a sonnet for the unseen.

This is not just another poem, because now I can see; that which was covered by darkness is revealed; that which was over shadowed by false hopes can now glow; that which was shy is now confident; I can see clearly! That which lay under my nose when I sought hope from the roof top, I can see clearly; with my heart I can feel it; with my mind, body and spirit, I swear! I can recognize it; see! When my heart broke it healed me with a single touch, but I took one too many pain killers, I couldn’t identify it; except now as my comrade the mighty Moon glows and the twinkling stars appear, I can feel it, for it has always been a part of me though inadvertently, I chose to overlook it but not anymore, because this time I can see clearly!

I dare to stare at that which made us a pair; the beauty in the smile that tamed my war, a true heart slayer; so many songs to sings and words to speak but with a rhyme to prepare; the glow of eyes that weaken the soul, insidious is but this snare; the curtains to fall and veil to drop for there is no shyness when love is there; I sought amongst the stars for a beautiful love so rare; yet underneath the skies existed a heart to care; for all the times my heart got broken and I ignored her who’s to say life isn’t fair? But I have overlooked her for the longest and this time I remember her in prayer; so I dare to stare at that which makes us a pair, because this time I can see clearly…

I NEVER THANKED YOU ENOUGH

On a blistering sunny day you'll see him sweating, trying to hide his fatigue by forcing a smile; he is beaten by the hustle; yet you'll never hear him cry foul; tougher than a mule as he breaks sweat for bread in his unforgiving bustle; never accepting defeat even in the most impossible states; he taught me math’s with a slap when I couldn't multiply; you'd never see his tears no matter how rough life gets; a man who taught me that to be a man you don't have to cry; but approach life with studies, for trials are merely tests; and even though my momma never had wings, his love alone was enough to make her fly; always protected his own and put them all through school; I swear! I've never seen a greater man under the sun than my father; so I write this piece with thanks giving in my heart because, I always felt like I just never thanked you enough for everything I am. Love you papa...

Tale of an Italian Stallion

Sited alone in the close bamboos, I am playing my flute and humming a song too softly for anyone to hear except my comrade, the bright moon and as I stood I saw a white man from Italy; despite the cold weather, he’s smile remained warmer than October; he spoke so gently in way that reassured friendship in the hearts of many; he was no hero, but I could have sworn he was to me an extra-ordinary being; for he touched many hearts like a Doctor he was even though he was not Medical.

I will tell you a tale of an Italian Stallion; See! They called him a dreamer because he dreamt of a much better place for the youths; he inspired greatness in them and they loved him; I mean! How could someone just walk into your life and yet in a short period of time become an integral part of it?

They respected him, not only because he was educated nor rich; Diplomatic nor established rather because he inspired love in the people that knew him. See! I would tell you a tale of an Italian stallion but let it be known across hearts that the 29th of September is this man’s day to forever remember as the day this hero was born. So: happy birthday

Doctor Gaudenzio Massimino Rossi.

From: Kondwani Stanley Simwaba.

Untitled

If I decided to write a poem, what would be the title?

Would it be about the sorrows and the tears I’ve had to shed throughout my life’s journey or would it be about that pretty girl I fell in love with but never quite had because she never felt as I did; or

Would it be about me thanking God for all the friends I have because I believe I have the best friends in the whole world or would it be about me thanking Him for my parents because I swear, I could never ask for another pair?

If I decided to write a poem, what would be the title?

Would it be about the broken smiles of the hungry kids I see on the streets or would it be about the homeless people that suffer because they put their trust in the wrong government, that cared less about them; or

Would it be about my girlfriend whose trynna find a footing in this world by pursuing school first or would it be about all the girls in my life that I’ve hurt or have hurt me?

If I decided to write a poem, what would be the title?

Would it be about my sisters and brothers, because trust me they are the best or would it be about me accepting that I need help in several aspects of my life; or

Would it be about me re-surrendering myself to God through confession of my sins or would it be about thanking Him for how far I’ve gotten in life with His help?

If I decided to write a poem, what would be the title?

Would it be about me finally airing my views on how I think corruption has broke down our Countries or would it be about the rate of unemployment faced by the youth; or

Would it be about the agony of early marriages and/or the declining pass rate of the school goers because social media is the most happening thing?

If I decided to write a poem, what would be the title?

Would it be a cry about the escalating Gender based Violence in our countries or would it be a plight to eliminate poverty; or

Would it be a cry that fell on deaf ears and never quite received the desired attention or would it be regarded as just another mere rhetoric by the ‘so-called’ Memory Child seeking attention?

See! I don’t know what the title would be but I do know this, that if I decide to write a poem, I will write about all that I feel whether the World accepts it or not…

IMAGERY

I sought across the sky to see an angel clad in stars, she was as magnificent as the rainbow at the end of a heavy rainfall; the sun had nothing on her, I guess it’s why they said she was hot; she brightened my heart with love, as the moon enlightens the night; she had a smile curved as beautiful as Orion’s bow, while her piercing gaze sharper than Orion’s arrow and her voice as sweet, soft and tender as the morning bird. I’ll sit and think profoundly about that night by the tree and wonder if they were any stars present, because I swear I thought she shined the brightest; for when I gazed upon the sky it was nothing but her face I saw.

As I took another glance, I saw as the angels gathered from all realms to witness the magnificence of her glow; an angel after my own heart, for even the moon paid homage to her eminence; the queen of my heart; it was as if she controlled the entire cosmic body how the clouds gathered before her to give her passage; I swear not even the mighty lightning bolt of Zeus could make her smile falter; I promise you, the Orchids and Lilies admired her poise; while the Roses simply got jealous of her beauty, and even though she was scared of heights, I swear she was destined to attain great heights in life and if only she had wings, then she’d be an Eagle because sorrows to her were simply out of reach; her voice made the singing bird sound way out of pitch; she was simply amazing but Alas! She was but an Imagery of all that I desired but never quite had…

SILVER LINING

Some nights I stood alone, staring at the clouds that impeded us from the moon rays; the glimmering efforts of the moon, would from time to time brighten our days; observing cautiously at the sky so as not to miss the shooting star, the only hope we had to make wishes upon; I recall a voice that told me, ‘wishes are for fools,’ but what do you do when you came from where you had nothing? So every night I spoke to the moon about me, trusting her implicitly to safeguard my secrets; I recall a voice that regarded me a fool because I made more wishes on the stars than American kids do on Christmas; with so much weight on my shoulders, I truly needed Christ to offload this Mass; I said, with so much weight on my shoulders, I truly needed Christ to offload this Mass.

See! I, came from where the ambience Characterized every dream as pipeline, little faith; because no one ever believed in anything other than death; I sprung from where y’all described as a ghetto or rather, ghatta; no hopes and because nothing was ever given on a silver platter; we knew the meaning of hustle; it was the spelling that gave us quite a tussle; as we bustle through the morning, I saw gods! People that made it through high school need I say more on college grads’; everyday was darker than the nights, the ghetto; where we united in a harmonic symphony at the coming of the lights; nothing made us smile more than gazing at the Bazungus, y’all just call ‘em whites; If only I could make it outta this place, I’d walk on bended knees, I thought. See! Because some nights I stood alone; staring at the clouds that impeded us from the moon rays; because the glimmering efforts of the moon, made me pray for a silver lining.

Remember the Roses

As I pondered on the magnificence of God; I gazed upon bare land, void of any beauty, just soil and rough terrain; now as I stood looking at this land , it began to pour, water from above kinda like someone left the tap open; there upon the ugly empty land began to blossom beauty beyond my comprehension and it was all because of the rain.

Now I thought to myself, what if I was that bare land void of any good but dirt and God's message was the rain pouring both in and on me, would I then begin to blossom and attract beautiful butterflies?

What if everyone is as beautiful in the likeness of God as they say and no matter how rough life has been for you, His rain will cleanse and wash away all the weeds in your life and erode that unnecessary soil giving room to the blossoming of faith and joy because then we all are like flowers...

Therefore, if it is true that man shall not live by bread alone but by every word of the Lord, surely this food for thought can be extended to mean that proteins are found in Proverbs while the Romans, are indeed the vitamins needed to grow; because in essence, this meaning is derived from photosynthesis, I mean! I am meant to believe that the Bible is the light responsible for our growth.

Therefore, from the ground like flowers we blossom, given the same amount of rain and sunlight, what matters is how you shed your leaves, Ecclesiastes 9 vs 11; remember how beautiful the roses are and recognize that you too are beautiful but if your soil lacks the necessary nutrients for your growth, the Lord says remember Mathew 7 vs 7 and it shall be well with you because in everything we do brethren, we need not forget Proverbs 1 vs 7.

As I pondered on the magnificence of God, I gazed upon bare land but this time not void of anything but potential, because for as long as you trust in God it shall always be Philippians 4 vs 4 and everything else vanity...

1 January, 2017

Memories of you

It was beautiful, gazing at the moon in the night as the stars sparkled bright in the skies; I recall the ice-cream face smearing, funny face selfie poses and studio pics because we slayed ‘em, barely noticing how time flies; you laughed at my every joke, I even thought Kevin Hart had nothing on me and the way you believed in my dreams kinda like a kid standing up for his belief in Santa’s existence or the Tooth fairy, yeah, we joked about that too, but is this surely how our love dies?

Rainy days got us tucked in our blankets, you made popcorns and I picked out a movie, even if truth be told you understood them better than I did, I just loved staring at your lips as you endeavored to explain every movie to me but Dang! Girl you were so fine if I never told you why I never always understood your explanations and pillow fights, well you loved those too even though I’d hit you so hard sometimes and you’d cry ‘till I tried singing to you, though hitherto, I still don’t understand whether my voice was so good that you stopped immediately or it was so horrible even your tears feared it.

I recall your eyes everytime I messed up, because you were a straight shooter ever telling it how it is without sugar coating and God! You were so stubborn, because when you said No, there was just no convincing you otherwise, I swear even my super powers, the neck kisses were futile but I loved you even more; everyday you reminded me of how I could be anything I put my mind too; believe me, other than my mother there was no other woman who believed in me more than a staunch Jehovah’s witness’s belief in their teachings; Honey! You were simply my Proverbs 31, that’s why I dedicated December 31 for you; you were such a big thief, because everyone in my family and friends loved you, I swear you stole not only my heart.

I believed we were meant for each other until reality punched me in the face; I tried running to you but your heart was Usain Bolt in this race, because you fell so fast for him like a canon ball from a hill; I swear, you closed my heart so hard kinda like a business deal; except jubilation wasn’t the food for thought in this meal; and cardiologists weren’t the remedy required for my heart to heal; I guess it’s true what they say, that don’t believe the water on the tarred road even if it seems so real, just drive.

I recall another memory of you, except this one is void of joy; because those Tom Hadley Chase books you had me reading, made me fathom your ploy; see, you were the only woman I trusted implicitly with my heart but like your 8year old brother, you played with it like a toy; if you were falling for someone else I still don’t understand why you had to be so coy; because you hurt me so much like an ice-cream deprived little boy; yet here I am trying to recall all the memories of you…

I NEVER THANKED YOU ENOUGH

On a blistering sunny day you'll see him sweating, trying to hide his fatigue by forcing a smile; he is beaten by the hustle; yet you'll never hear him cry foul; tougher than a mule as he breaks sweat for bread in his unforgiving bustle; never accepting defeat even in the most impossible scenarios; he taught me math with a slap when I couldn't multiply the number of times life beat me to the number of times that beating actually strengthened me; you'd never see his tears no matter how rough life gets; a man who taught me that to be a man you don't have to cry; but approach life with studies, for trials are merely tests that you have to try; and even though my momma never had wings, his love alone was enough to make her fly; always protected his own and put them all through school; I swear! I've never seen a greater man under the sun than my father; so I write this piece with thanks giving in my heart because, I always felt like I just never thanked you enough for everything I am. Love you papa...

Lost before my eyes

Steady winds blow through my curtains; as the window lies wide open in the night, a gentle breeze brushes through my ears in different patterns; slightly my eyes open gazing at the moonlight sneaking in shinning so bright; a soft melody is heard by my ears, I am awake but this tune my memory cannot retain; my perturbation grows even greater as I observe in silence from my window, a steady movement carefully planned like a chess piece, Queen just to be more precise; the tune gets even louder than a pertussis and this, is but the beginning of my fall like Genesis…

I rise from whence I was sleeping, to come in proximity with my nemesis; my walls come crumbling down right before me, while everything in me is debilitated; not everything you see is as it seems because even my strength may well be fabricated, but the fire in her eyes has all my fears incinerated; as it burns through my heart, I realize in that moment that I, have lost myself in her heart; but do not mistake this as a cry for help because therein, her heart I find solace; a sudden peace of mind befalls me as our heartbeats synchronize; I wonder if she and gravity are related because I have fallen for her so bad, I only pray that her soul and mine can harmonize; because not in a million years have I ever felt this glad…

Her lips twirl into something I can only imagine is an attempt to smile; my heart stops for a second, because I have never seen anything quite as breath taking as this, and the way she walks towards me, dang! This flower does it with style; I guess that’s why she could never stay down no matter how much dirt the world threw at her because everytime, she arose just like the flower she is but I just watch as my heart gets lost right before my eyes… 18/01/17

TEARS TO THE RESCUE

She looks me in the eyes right after I kiss her, with a face that says sorry; As I gaze at her beautiful face, I feel a heavy thump in my stomach and a grotesque chill runs through my spine; I know right there that I shouldn’t have kissed her, those soft and sweet lips do not belong to me; she turns around to say goodbye and in an attempt to flatter me, she says ‘you, are very handsome so you’ll be alright.’ Of course I smile at that, I mean, who wouldn’t? But my smile is just misdirection, I am a man and big boys don’t cry; so she mustn’t know about the funeral in my heart, ergo I play it out with humor and she responds with a beautiful laughter Ironic! I’ve always been good at cracking her jaws but apparently not enough to touch her heart…

She touches my face one more time and my breath goes along with her hands; I look down to her eyes and even though it might be the sun, I still think she’s glowing, but before anymore words can be uttered she walks away and like a fool in denial my head swings along with her hand as she waves goodbye at me; perhaps I bit a little more than I could actually chew; soon she disappears from my site, she’s gone but my silly heart can not quite fathom that, so instead I stay a little while longer, perhaps she may have forgotten something, her number maybe, silly. But she doesn’t come back, so I head back home, straight to my room and under my blankets because I lied about big boys not crying, after all, I really did love her…

In a year or two, maybe when my heart’s maturity catches up to my brain; I will see her again so she can touch my face once more and allow my breath to flow her hands; in a year or two, maybe when the moon goes missing she’ll wonder what happened to the glow and long for me; in a year or two, maybe when all is said and done she and I will belong to each other; as I sit up thinking about all this my pain reduces as water covers my cheeks and I soak from it and a smile for hope surfaces on my lips because I find myself being rescued by tears and in that moment I know she and I have a date with destiny, just maybe not today…

Apologies of an ex-player

I hurt you so bad, you probably just don't know it yet; I should've warned you from the beginning; I am a thief, I steal hearts and turn them into my toys; normally I go for those that claim to know it all and those I shred to pieces, I take no pride but I made a lapse in judgment for you; you were so innocent and I thought I'd actually fall in love with you but I should've known better because me and gravity are not in good terms since the last time I fell in love with someone but I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I apologize and admit that was quite shady, but I've always been Eminem's fan so I guess that explains the monsters under my bed.

You were so beautiful with your wondering eyes, I knew from inception, I should've stayed away from you but you didn't help much too when you sought me out; See, I never meant for you to fall in love with me but guess I forgot just how slippery my words could get; I know you probably think am the devil, but I did Law so I guess that makes me his advocate instead and you were just the client, I know now just why Lawyers shouldn't fraternize with their clients, we should've kept things professional; but I don't blame you, you were quite naive and I capitalized on that; I truly regret what I did to you and all the other victims, plying them with my sweet-nothings only to hurt them in the end; I am sorry, because that's what makes me human...

I sometimes have sleepless nights just wondering why I involved you in all this; See! Because my own heart is broken so there is no loving me because everything I love either lives far or doesn't love me back, but I can't live in isolation so I pick my toys; forgive me if the word 'toy' irks you but I really don't know any other word to use so I wanna take this time to apologize to you and all the women and also on behalf of all the fellow men because it's guys like me that ruin their name; So while I am still alive I apologize because momma taught me to respect women and to be gentle once I become a man so I am truly very sorry you are yet to cry and for the pain you have lived through...

BROKEN WINGS

She sits in the corner of her room, weeping softly trynna hide her wounds; see no one knows the truth when she smiles, for what lies deep within her even the X-ray machine would break from notification sounds, she’s fractured; every night she stands alone to ogle at the stars wishing she could leave but see, she is bound to this torment; this wolf clad as an Angel is her Kryptonite, am sorry did I imply the notion that she is a supergirl? Pardon me for I wanna tell a tale of an Angel with broken wings…

He called her honey, made her feel like she ruled over the bees; he was as gentle as a cool breeze in October but then he forgot no wait! He’s mask fell off and that devil in him emerged; but for her, she thought with a little touch of love like a fairytale, she’d tame him; he touched her back alright, yes he touched her with red angry eyes he touched her; no! With fury pumped veins, he touched her, I mean with claws disguised as nails he touched her; that smile faded, I mean her dimple remained permanent but she loved him still; at any given time she could leave so one day she got to the roof top and jumped; she was free, free as the birds, she was free, free as the wind but alas! Her wings were broken so in essence she was free-falling like an apple on Isaac Newton’s head; yes, gravity embraced her and the reaper nestled her…

The Memory Child*

I look in the mirror to see the man I have become, it kills me to know that y'all no longer see me for the man I truly am; I am well aware of the message my new behavior sends, but understand my pain is enveloped behind this smile and I only pray for deliverance but I am already stamped with shame...

You look at me from afar with disgust, casting upon me judgment for all my wrongs like the courts; I could say I am only human hence I err but that's the oldest excuse known to man; I admit I am not holier-than-thou, but you don’t understand just how many demons I fight against to survive; See! Every day is a battle so I take refuge behind the pen and attack with words, because this is the only thing that really gives me comfort...

The look on her face as she sees me walking could tell you just how much disappointment she has for me; Forgive me for smiling at her cuz I am well aware of her feelings, but humor has always had my back; that's why most of you will never understand just how many battles I fight daily, so next time you find me talking about success, understand this, me and failure once walked closely together like a dream couple...

If only you could look past my dances in the club; If only you could look past the mere words on my pad; if only you could look past my sins; if only you could look past my gimmicks and if only you could read between all these tiny lines only then would you really fathom why I scribble words on paper like this, only then would you really comprehend why, I am called The Memory Child*...

KAIKO

She speaks in a soft and tender voice; accompanying every word with a warm smile, I understand now just how she gets by in June; she’s wished for a different name before but no doubt, it wasn’t her choice; so she lives with it discarding the negativity surrounding it and hoping one day it will be well known much like the desert dune…

A tiny dimple forms in the edges of her soft lips; if she’s been through pain, then she’s doing a fine job at concealing it; her walk would make you think the road is a red carpet because, of the boldness in the swing of her hips; if she’s falling you can’t tell because of the composure in keeping to her feet…

See! Even I don’t know her very well but the one glimpse I took of her face; made me understand just how cultured she is, they called her spoiler because of everything she made a mess; but I’d call her honey because I think her sweet voice would settle well with the bees…

She’s the seeker of joy, the traveler of new places and the unbeliever of love, you can’t blame her but you make no mistake, because happiness is her never ending cycle; the life in her eyes can make you understand just how much she likes to rove; and her name is such that no doubt can be cast upon the brains behind her beauty, so y’all can just called her Kaiko...

FROM THE ASHES

We were the underdogs with a tiny bark, our message couldn’t be delivered because we didn’t update our messenger, up, down tossed to the left because everything said was never right, they said we suck despite our words being made up of iron man, we were like the avengers, ever persistent in this marathon chasing dreams in spite of the surrounding nightmares because we ride for what we believe in.

I tellya, we came from the ashes…

Like a phoenix we arose, no flower garden I suppose we were meant to be the conquerors like a flower born on the concrete ground heroes untold and words yet formed, because this food for thought can only be washed down by a glass of the poetic juice..Shiiiiiiiii… Listen carefully to the words said for you will never ever hear them from elsewhere, like kerosene thrown on the audience, now watch how we ignite the crowd. We refuse not to be heard, we refuse to be ignored because for so long we were unknown.

I tellya, we came from the ashes…

He picks up his pen, writing from the heart he scribbles words on his pad, presents them to the world, yet no one can spare a few change just to pay attention to him, he goes back home ripping of that page for a new one to begin, he’s tired of being pushed around, no on e believes in his art, like a watch on his mouth only time will tell what will become of him, because he refuses not to be heard, he refuses to be ignored, for so long he’s been unknown.

I tellya, he came from the ashes, now watch as we rise…

Lesa Pantanshi

(Never give up on God)

She was only a young girl when her parents were taken away from her; see! At a very tender age she had to learn how to fend for herself and her siblings; in her darkest days she knelt to pray but God seemed so far; so she grew up despising him, because His hand never showed up in her strugglings; or atleast that’s what she thought, forgetting the message in Jeremiah 29vs11, but I never did blame her because see, at the age of seven, she already knew how to takecare of a man; her emotions were triggered without even the aid of a gun…

See! Every night she’s sited wishing she could run; but she looks back at her siblings and she knows they are just but young, so she looks up to the Lord wishing He would listen and roman 8vs18 is all that she could see…

He confides to his pillow every night; shedding tears that only his pillow can contain, despite the sun at noon, his pathways luck light; no one seems to care even though he does complain; see! Seven years have passed since his graduation, every company he turns to tells him there is no job; and his parents never seems to care since their separation, but everytime he tries to give up, he’s reminded of the story of Job and therein he finds his courage…

Holding on to faith with the hope that he don’t fall; never turn your back against the Lord when you alone, Jesus is the answer every single test you go through…

Remember! 2Corinthians 4vs17-18, your wealth lies in the Lord…

She asked me for a poem

She asked me for a poem; see! I was nonchalant towards that because I didn’t really know much about her, let alone writing from that limited perspective but a couple of days later little did I know that she’d be the gist of many a poem I’ll write; slowly she sunk into my heart and became the melody of my heartbeat, I think her lips had something to do with the broom because her smile swept me off my feet; I call her my queen because in her presence I feel too short to even dare to walk tall…

She touched my heart without her hands; I wondered what kind of surgery this was because not even a qualified cardiologist would ever succeed, She was so hot I guess that’s why my heart melted when she told me that she loved me; little nerdish but she made me seem cooler that the Ice cubes in the glass of the poetic juice, she held my hand and pulled me from the ashes that made me unknown; I swear this food for thought is more sumptuous than a king sized combo at hungry lion, she is the Queen! I swear in her strides even the wind dances to her rhythm; she rendered my defenses weak and penetrated through my system, and now like gravity for her heart I have fallen victim, but if this is how a love prison feels like then I hereby sentence myself to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole, because I love you…

SHE TAMED THE WILD BEAST

She dared to walk the path where angels refused to fly; with her touch she smoothened the rough edges.

She spread her wings against the raging winds and sowed across the sky; with her smile she conquered through all my pages.

She whispered in the ears of a wild beast and tamed it with a little try; with her gentle voice, she evoked the greatest passion within it and it rages.

With her charm, she inspired one of the greatest poems ever written; words are only words until they drop like rain. With her touch, she unveiled one of the most clandestine secrets ever hidden; beasts are only beasts, until you uncover their pain. With her heart, she valued one of the most sacred gifts ever given; love is only love, until hate is vain.

With no guide she toured alone in the Amazon, she saw eye to eye with the beast but never did blink; even though it roared with warning sounds that shook the ground, she still stood tall to tall with it; when it charged she promulgated only her hands and touched its heart, truly the conqueror was conquered.

She pierced through to its soul and it melted, in its ears she whispered words that were never ever uttered before to it and its eyes like the nimbus clouds, poured only rain because deep within itself it knew that by her smile the wild beast was tamed; because broken is only broken until an angel touches your heart, so now she built a castle in its heart and became its Queen...

CoolCrazyKindaNerd

RhapsodyArts

BlessedSon

KingTMC*

Rise of an African Youth

I have seen greater things come from the hopeless most parts; I have witnessed greater heights climbed by the shortest of people; I have seen kings emerge from the useless most servants; I, have witnessed presidents emerge from the dumbest of students in class; and even though I have seen all these things, what fascinates me the most is the story of bees, Honey! Listen, even the mighty lion flees from the swam; even Samson couldn’t break a bunch of twigs with his thumb; but to see my fellow youths live as though they have no power, now that renders my heart even numb or am I just dumb?

For believing that the youths can actually rise; for believing that these youths will put down their phones for a second and listen, am I just dumb for thinking that these youths can actually learn to utilize their talents. Am I?

I have heard greater voices when these youths sing; I have witnessed real art when these youths work together; I have seen great leaders emerge from these youths; I have witnessed firsthand the variety of talent embedded in them, I, have seen rappers, poets, painters, actors, dancers and the list is endless, trust me for I, have seen the potential of these youths, in their movement now I guess you can call that Kinetic energy, because like an energy drink these cats are too wild to be tamed by system that is solely designed to hinder progression of the youths; now that renders my heart even numb or am I just dumb?

For believing that these youths will actually listen to the true purpose of this poem; for believing that these youths will not just snap, at the punchlines but rather snap, from their individualistic mentality and snap, this art with their minds. Am I?

Only if we work together as a youth can we help mold this continent that we so believe in; only by putting our hands together can we actually mend this system we tame as broken, because we are the youths, Imitee ikula, empanga and we, have the power to rise…

OF LOVE AND CALAMITY

She loved me like the hurricane, unpredictability was her super power but how could I ever blame her when her name was Katrina?

She loved me like a tornado, violently blowing my heart out of proportion but like a masochist, I took pleasure from the way that she hurt me.

She was my tsunami; at the slide of my heart’s tectonic plates, my emotions came bursting out uncontrollably and that intrigued me.

She loved me like the ocean waves, through the highs and lows, she carried me and I traded lightly for the fear of drowning in, but I was already in love with her.

Like a volcano, my heart was already engulfed by her love, so who would have ever imagined that she could be like a natural calamity, neither fettered by anything nor tamable, because her love just came naturally and pain was always inevitable.

See! I was never perfect for her so I fell short of her love several times and like a good score keeper, I swear, Victoria always kept record of my falls, I bet she could attract tourists with that living stone of hers.

I broke the Ozone layer just to please her, because in winter my love for her remained warm and cool in the summer, not even her heart’s stratosphere could ever absorb my love rays because this was the true global warming.

Like dark matter in quantum physics, she loved me with so much gravitational force, so intense that it could only be transcribed as the black hole theory; she must have hailed from the Bermuda region.

Fiercely, she loved me like an exploding star; you could even see the rays from the moon now I guess she was my supernova; with a bang in my chest I fell for her the relative theory of love was absolutely big and I guess that’s why I fell so hard.

She loved me like the winter snow, falling gently down to my head but filling my heart with both unspeakable pain and unfathomable love, and I fell for her like Autumn leaves; she was my natural selection; bittersweet a story told of love and calamity…

STOLEN GENERATION

Whatever happened to; chidunune, Demama and Wider?

Whatever happened to; Kankuluwale, Vabana nangu ukubuta?

Whatever happened to; ‘Ali onse ka njila ka kwabo kulibo dongolela nsima…?’

Whatever happened to; Dobi nsimbi yochisila zovala zanga zama nkwinya…?’

See! I am not saying that we should abandon our responsibilities and go back to singing such songs, No! but take a minute to retrospect because all I am saying is that, we ought to be a little more selfless and learn to unhang ourselves from these ties we put on to work because we are no different from slaves always caring more about other people’s opinions about us.

We need to take more responsibility for our own as youths instead of pretending to be busy, yet preoccupied by nothing safe to say we are busy for nothing; only good at pointing fingers when the system does not succumb to our demands; our major problem is that we are more concerned in looking rich than we are in actually working to achieve wealth.

See! I used to want to be famous; to stand out and be the envy of my peers, until I saw a school girl getting over 200 likes on Facebook for showing her nudity, then I knew fame was overrated, I mean people would rather stare at relevant issues and click like when someone posts about a funeral or about a gutted city market, what exactly are we liking?

‘I had a dream….’ Whatever happened to sharing Westlife’s lyrics? ‘I wonder why, I wonder where they are…’

We united in a harmonic symphony everytime ZESCO flicked the power back on I wonder whatever happened to ‘Mailiti Yabwela…’

I remember the times we used to dance in the rains, I wonder whatever happened to; ‘Infula isa isa twangale nama insa…?’

I mean, John Chimfwembe enzo sobela pa njanji train ina bwela ina mu gusula Tears flood my eyes knowing that my generation is smart but chooses to live dumb because of smartphones; when last did we engage in a family and friends gathering to have fun without so much as to unlock our phones? See! We all have opinions about Xenophobia yet we despise the Indians for building shops that we couldn’t; we talk strongly about Racism and laugh at Rwanda yet our very own Bembas and Tongas can’t stand each other and most of us don’t even know why; we allow politicians to make us tools of violence instead of channeling that energy to building a better Zambia for ourselves; Dear youths, we have the potential to rise above our petty differences and trivial issues yet we choose to use our God given talents and energy to dub our way out of real issues; just snapping at punchlines while focusing on ourselves more than we do others, guess I understand now just why it’s called a selfie..

Whatever happened to; ‘2, 2 by 2 katapila by 2….?’

Whatever happened to; ‘I want to see my Jenny, my Jenny, my jenny…?’

No! Whatever happened to; ‘Washomba waloba or words like ‘Donya donya’ or ‘ngati suna busheko, su ontako chimbilimbili chabuka, chimbilimbili chabuka.s?’ See! Because you just can’t expect to benefit without actually working; now is the time to reclaim our generation turning our potential to kinetic energy and begin to engage in real issues because the onus is upon us, so dear youths, I implore you, let’s rise…

The Apostolic Faith

Pulpits and pews seem new to me, the men before my eyes speak a language so novel to my ears; my intestines contort into seemingly the letter V, this act just but heightens my fears; a voice inside yells this is no place to be, as my face is immersed in what could merely be termed as tears; I have never before been this scared, the reckoning is just beginning... I have seen the clouds form shapes relative to nature, I have seen water depict the true color of the sky; I have seen tact in the Star's nomenclature, the marvel of these sights only begs the question, why? They say…

This is the place of the Apostles; this is where the Trinity dwells, in the name of God the father; Son and the Holy Spirit; I believe in the Holy Spirit, the one, holy, universal, and apostolic Church; the community of the saints; the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the dead, and life everlasting. This is the New Apostolic church…

Listen to the men of God as they deliver His message; Listen to the choir and pay ear to the Orchestra; take a Knee, bow your head, fold your and pray for it is said; Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you…Fear not for this Church has seen more year than a Century; and by the body and blood of Christ, truly better bread than a bakery; for we believe that the Lord Jesus rules His church and thereto sent His Apostles, and until His return still sends them, with the commission to teach, to forgive sins in His name, and to baptize with water and Holy Spirit.

Tears flood my eyes as my heart melts, I have seen the wonders of this world but not to this end; fears take my cries as my hand felts, I have seen the blunders of man but not with this bend; cheers encourage my tries as my faith belts, I have seen the transformation of one but not with this tend; so now with a knee to the ground and folded hands; with a heart now void of pride and sinking like quickest sands, I say:

I believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth.

This is the place of the Apostles; this is where the Trinity dwells, in the name of God the father; Son and the Holy Spirit; I believe in the Holy Spirit, the one, holy, universal, and apostolic Church; the community of the saints; the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the dead, and life everlasting. This is the New Apostolic church…

The Epitome

Tears in my pen as I scribble words from my heart, the blood therein through my eyes will escape to kiss my lips; the 808 pounding in my chest will be the only music my ears will succumb to, covered by darkness in the dead of night, the pores in my skin open up as water filled with nothing but Sodium Chloride escapes; in the middle of the night when no voice is heard but words are formed, when the sun can no longer scorch my eyes but the moon only smiles in return; when my mind is preoccupied by nothing but words, words that are not even enough to describe the nomenclature of the stars, therein, in the middle of the night you will find me, trynna paint my name across the sky; see because memories are only good until one suffers from amnesia, ergo I just want that my name should exist for eons to come...

Enshrouded by nothing but nocturnal sounds, the pain in my heart latches on to my pen as I scribble words that depict the punchlines to the broken fragments of my heart; once knocked out by love' till I met her, her my one true love since the first day I picked up a pen to scribble that which was buried beneath the rubbles of my heart and called it poetry, the perfect excuse for connecting words that lack the grammatical merit; words, whose meaning known only by me, simply put a painting on a canvas filled by the color black and a single white dot as the epitome of the glimmers of my life; all I really want is to draw you in, in to the journey of my life except, I don't wanna give out more than I should for if I divulge all, I am afraid you'll see my brokenness and choose not to stick around like Victoria after knowing my falls...

A Misguided Poem

I always was the naive one, always the first one to respond to gravity's call even when I knew what tricks awaited; I was always the uncoordinated one, always acted on impulse rather than reason, impromptu would be the name stated; I always was the understanding one, always the sucker for pain yet do it again, masochism and I were so related; funny because to her I always was the one to ask for forgiveness yet never repented...

I could have sworn I loved her, to the moon and back would be an understated expression; from the first day I saw her, teeth when I likened her smile to the crescent moon and the twinkle in her eyes could only be the stars shimmering from afar; she was the Apple of my eye, I guess that explains why her voice entangled me like Siri, couldn't read any word without beginning the letter I.... Guess I was such an I-diot wasn't I?

See, I took a stroll in the wrong den, it happened like it had happened with the other one except this time I thought the pastures were much greener, I guess I was on that Bull-eish; see because in my efforts to do better I always ended up being greedy with myself, I never quite mastered the technique of being the perfect soulmate; always treated love like a game of chess, I promise you I never settled well with the words Checkmate...

I could promise you this though, if I couldda gotten the stars aligned just to spell your name, I wouldda used the sun as the full stop and the Orion's bow as the colons just to make a statement of love to you...

EVEN HEROES NEED HELP TOO

They said that they looked up to me, it was difficult to lower my pride; to tell them that just like them I too was suffering; that I couldn’t sleep every night ‘till I visited her; her, my sin.

To tell them that just like them I too needed help; that just like them I too was afaced with the same problem; to lower my pride and say I was never the hero that they thought me to be…

They said it’s because of my poetry that they changed; transforming from what they were and fought addiction; that my words found a way to let them see the light, so how could I have told them that I was pinned down by the same sin?

To tell them that the same sin I helped cure them off was my arc nemesis; that everytime I picked up my pen I was reminded of my pain; that in the middle of the night I broke down in the presence of the moon…

They said that my smile always gave them courage and that everytime I stood on stage before a mic they felt victorious; that I inspired greatness in them; that it was really because of me they survived, so how could I have told them?

To tell them that if only I had someone other than my comrade the bright moon to talk to; someone to help me lift this burden off my shoulders; to reveal my most clandestine secrets to and not to be judged in return…

How could I have told them that I was broken just like them?

That I had a terrible addiction with this sin?

How could I have begun to talk when the already rated me a hero and their beacon of hope? So I write still, that for as long as they are transformed through my works, then my work is complete and the demons are mine to fight but know that even heroes need help too…

Tales of an African Youth

I am the African youth! I am the struggle for independence, the darkness that challenges the moonlight I am, the melanin; I am the tales of my forefathers, the descendant of Kunta Kinte, the son of Madiba I am the diamonds of Sierra Leone, the Oil mines in Angola, I am the tales of the Mosi-O-Tunya, so when my smoke thunders, I pray you understand where I come from.

I am the bloodshed in Rwanda, the place from whence Moses came, I am the Apartheid in South Africa, don't forget the Solomon pits, I am the Guerilla warfare of Nigeria, , I am the tears of the Sahara when deserted, because despite the Nile, I still thirst for recognition from my bullies, I am the story of my land, Africa.

I am the origin of beauty, my curves are natural; I am the roots forgotten in the leaves of pop culture; the confidence misplaced in our leaders because despite the poor economy, we still get on a plane to visit the living stone no wonder Victoria falls everytime she hears about elections, now what do multiple movements develop when the front is not as patriotic as politicians claim? I am just a voice of an African youth but don't mistake my art for conceptual.

I am the tales my grandfather told around the fire; I am the collection of talent, the potential yet to be kinetic; yet I am a king without an empire, I am an African revolution, a movement of change, so pay attention for you'll only get the meaning of this poem at the epimythium.

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