Tuesday, 10 December 2013

WINNIE MADIKIZELA-MANDELA – MOTHER OF AFRICA


Sweet songs often tell stories of sorrow,
Of love lost, of trials, of Golgotha, of tyranny’s arrow;
In clime clement and kind every hand is valuable,
But it’s tempest that nominates the invaluable.
As Nile’s turgid waters let history’s tenor overflow its banks
For those mothers – of which Winnie is first – that guided our steps
Thro’ the slippery stairs of Mount Oppression
Until we stood on the rooftop of liberation.
Of the goddesses of thunder and lightning
I know but one that never ceased its flaming lightning
Until Apartheid’s boom and doom, bloom and gloom
Released from their lethal jaws a great dream.
From Cape to Cairo her gutsy womb bore justice –
Her trumpet rose high against Jericho;
And in all cities, townships and hamlets
She wore and bore the Amazon’s sword and salvo.
Being of red petals and thorny stem
She still treads on calm waters and storm –
Gauges a due cup to every oesophagus –
And for freedom’s sake travels the deep and the space.
Nomzamo, and she has trials seen – the vigilant tongue of this age!
You who awoke this age to rage against a canine cage –
Castrated with scalpel the fertility of supremacy,
And set loose fresh waters of humanity.
O still steely stainless sword! You slew the restless slumber
That crowned obeisance our perennial ruler;
Africa – let’s slay ingratitude holding hostage our age,
And chant this Africa’s mother’s courage – able in every age.
Chidozie Ejimadu (Nigeria) 
For more of this beautiful poetry email: ejidozie@gmail.com

Saturday, 7 December 2013

The Eagle flies...

Its time is nigh, the curtain call is due,
Flapping its mighty and colourful wings,
rising swiftly to the occasion, it is summoned.
The eagle flies.
Free from the snares of its catcher.

On its head a halo,
a crown not of this world,
illuminating its path,
It flutters and flees
into the wispy and dreamy clouds.
Surging through winding swirls of air,
in its tough talons;
dangling a string that once was...

Seraphims and Cherubims sing in heaven,
singing the song you and I heard in yesteryear.
They await the arrival of one of their kind,
The eagle flies, serenity it will find...


By Alex Nyasha Dube (Zimbabwe)

The Comedy In Africa


You say Africa must “stand –up” but we’re already into comedy, Conglomerates laughing to the banks while we suffer horribly, The police are corrupt like a floppy disc with bad sectors, A sitcom indeed, who are the main actors, At first they preach “elect us, elect us,” Win seats then turn around and neglect us, Long speeches about unity can never connect us, Nepotism on the ground will continue to break-us, Un-manifested manifestos just a lying prospectus, Get victimized by the people who’re meant to protect us, Now NGO’s are in schools distributing protectors, I also curse machinations and foreign detractors, We can make our own decisions they gotta respect-us, It takes courage to write a poem with these critical factors, In a continent where bullets catch you saying these matters, They will send me to sleep on a beautiful mattress, Because I questioned why they’re are spending so reckless, Because my salary is worth half their mistresses necklace, Just give me what I need then maybe I’d nag-less, Then maybe we’d be cool and there wouldn't be burglars, You don’t live where I live, you have nannies and butlers, I only free my mind through these lyrical battles, My mind has to speak, before it calms and settles, But this really is a comedy, I started to chuckle.
By Michael Mupotaringa (Zimbabwe)
More of his work visit- http://www.mcpotar.com/poetry



Thursday, 24 October 2013

Change will come...

Before the cock cackles and crows thrice,
Change will come and hope suffice! 
Like smoke billowing and filling the air,
War then love will leave all things fair.

They will see their reign vanish like mist,
And from their lawlessness desist. 
From us royals emerge when theirs is due,
They will elude the heat, so does the dew!

But I stand still and sturdy hitherto 
My words long lost and overdue. 
They will rise up high like leaven bread
And anarchy incited and hostility bred.

The wind will be dusty and bear much pain,
Winnowing the chaff, grooming the grain. 
The task will be fruitful before mundane,
Times will be different, and all things sane...


By Alex Nyasha Dube (Zimbabwe)

Monday, 16 September 2013

Umhlaba uyahlaba (The world is a pain-filled place)

To all the people of my generation
Raising children
And helping raise nieces and nephews
And other little ones
Please tell the children the truth
*Umhlaba uyahlaba.

Love them. Protect them.
But please don’t end your lectures at,
“Listen to me:
You’ll work hard and pray everyday
And get married and live happily ever after.”

Life is hard. Even for the ‘regular do-gooders.’
Life brings the unexpected. It’s full of surprises.
Some of them unpleasant.
But don’t tell them that if they behave well
Life will be good to them.
That’s just not true.

It’s the virtuous thing to do. It’s the honorable thing to do.
It’s what must be done.
But, no. Being good does not lead to perpetual happiness.
Really, perhaps it’s not at all for our own joy. But for others.

Please teach them resilience,
Where you would have read them fairy-tales
Teach them ambition, instead of to live in a dream world
Teach them to love stubbornly
Even in the face of loneliness, fear,
rejection, segregation, the unknown, the unfathomable,
the incomprehensible, the unaccepted, the unacceptable
-when they stand to gain nothing but pain, included.

Read them myths, maybe. Of overcoming the impossible.
Then tell them that someone somewhere in the world
Made that myth reality
Because that would be the truth.
Tell them you are telling them
What you are telling them
Not so that they expect hardship and anguish
But that they breathe with complete abandon
and happen to be prepared when the terrible comes.

For the love of truth and honesty that may hurt but builds,
Please tell the children.

*Ndebele phrase meaning, ‘The world is a pain-filled place.’


By Tebogo G.H Ndlovu (Zimbabwe)

Picture Source : www.facebook.com/jadiliafrika

Come home Father...

Come back Father,
come home to love me.
Lift me in your strong and firm hands,
throw me up high,
hoist me above where the sun sits,
where such is the stature of your affection,
poised and robust.

Rise and awake from your lowly sleep,
where you slumber and slobber
in your unperturbed rest.
Dreaming the deferred, 
Waiting for the chiming of the trumpet,
to mark the coming of the unknown. 
But I implore you; be kind enough,
awake and love me,
where you left me lost and searching...

Come back Father,
where my love stands filial and loyal
and see me prosper.
My future yonder,my success is nigh. 
All awaits your return.

Return to me,
to be my harness and strength,
as I skate on thin ice,
to face the most tumultuous of all storms.
In the wake of the cold and gloomy nights:
give me comfort,give me warmth,
so I may be kept safe,
with your discerning wisdom.

Like vigorous children running up a hill
my hope fades away into the horizon.
My days are dark,they see no light.
Your light. Your vision. Your vigilance.

Come back Father,
and tuck me to bed,kiss my forehead,
I will no longer be sad.
Come home to me,
where I humbly hum the hymn of he,
Who vowed to bring you back to me.

Come back to love me..


By Alex Nyasha Dube (Zimbabwe)

Picture source- www.facebook.com/JadiliAfrika

Sunday, 8 September 2013

WHAT YOU ARE TO ME...

You bring unimaginable joy to me
A spark of hope you bring to my world
A world hitherto sullen and solitary
When you talk, you address the fears of my mind
You sooth my aching soul with your honey-filled melodies
My heart finds a shelter in you, never to depart no more
In you I find my being, you bring back long forgotten memories
Memories likened to the titanic kind of love
How I yearn for your telepathic caresses
My oasis in the desert have you become
It is true we taste darkness, so we can appreciate day
Like a sweet scented petal, you attracted many insects
From far and near they sought your love and attention
Yellow, Indian, Hispanic, Asian, white they did come
Yet you chose me, an African man
Trusted the oceans when it was still
When it became stormy with its accompanying uncertainties,
You foresaw the end of the tempest and built your nest
I am married to your embraces forever
Through thick and thin, I will remain true
In life’s ups and downs, I will be there
Till your mortal remains is lowered beneath
I will remain yours truly and faithfully
I love you my love, I love you.                                                                                           

By Michael Dale-Asiedu (Ghana)


Photo credits : www.facebook.com/jadiliafrika