Friday, December 7, 2012

Mntakwethu by Suku Thundabathole Zikode

In your eye I think I see
On your lips when you speak
What is this I think I feel?
In the nearness of you
Is it your body radiation!
Is it in the scent of your skin?

My eyes glaze like a drunkard
What is this I think I feel?
In your eye I think I see
Although your lips refuse to say

There is certain calmness in you
It humbles me down to the ground
And I'm at a loss for words to say

Will it be asking for too much
If I asked you to love me
And still allow me the space to be me
And to be with myself sometime?

Monday, December 3, 2012

To Youth by Philani Amadeus Nyoni

And what shall become of you
When Time’s hands have done their art?
Crayons of hue re-coloured you in shades of dusk,
Graffiti etched upon your brow,
Flawless grace reduced to caricature,
Once impeccable beauty redrawn abstract
And the stains of his oils mock your portraits?
His fingerprints plastered across the wall of your soul:
Your essence withered to the stench of pending death
And your confidence shaken to infirmity,
Shall these suitors, princes in Chevrolets -if not to dust returned-
Still whistle their impotence through toothless smiles?
Bite deep into the flesh of youth but wary the stone,
Cast by those who perceive themselves sinless
Should three words turn to three letters.
I do not wish disease, pestilence or plague upon you,
Only true fruits of old age, regrets grown
To appreciation of possibilities
Chastised by the rod of Time for the road not taken,
Insolence blossomed to wisdom;
Blind valour to meditation.
Subtle pencil strokes to Time’s masterpiece evolved,
While I on his easel remain a fool,
Loving you in more earnest than when I was a boy.