A stranger in your own home by Willard Goora

If news about your coming home from the fields,
Is sweet to the family,
If family and work are separated by great mountains, rivers and oceans.
If menus change because you are coming home,
If even toddlers can tell the difference,
Yet others till their fields just like you,
But come home daily,
And their coming makes no news.
Then without you knowing it,
You may have become one,
A father by remote-control,
A stranger in your own home.
If upon arrival the kids mistaken you for their uncle,
If they realize it and quickly retort, “No, daddy…,”
If every-one laughs at the kids’ folly,
Then without you knowing it,
You may have become like one,
A soldier coming from a war in a foreign country,
A stranger in your own home.
If you get home from the fields,
And you are shocked you own a house,
If you don’t want to go back because you are gratified
If you only go back because of duty in the family,
Then without you knowing it,
You may have become one,
A father of seasons,
A stranger in your own home.
If your wife cant live without you when you aren’t there,
If she cries for you before you come home,
But when you come you find even eating habits are totally different,
And you have to learn each other all over again,
And the things that never used to matter now matter,
Then without you knowing it,
You may have become one,
An earth-mover that makes a very nice road,
But never gets to enjoy a cruse on it when it’s finished,
A stranger in your own home.
If when you come you find bedroom habits are totally changed,
If you find the bedroom is now a play-ground for kids,
If no-body seems to notice except yourself,
Then without you knowing it,
You may have become one,
A disenfranchised member of a ‘was once a family’ set-up,
A stranger in your own home.
If the sun is rising and setting in the wrong directions in your world,
And it isn’t any bother to you,
If you throw destine to fate and fold hands,
Then without you knowing it,
You are becoming a permanent one,
A spectator and cheerer of your own life.
A stranger in your own home.

Dropouts [ 2006 by Mthabisi Phili

I’ve forgotten some of the moments
Of the campus mates I learnt with
Poverty x-rayed me out of school –
Or was it God’s will?
So when I meet them now
I panic –fumble my dusty files for their names,
the security guard by Express Shop is friendly-
says a big hello and packs his bags to go….
it’s quickly turning dark
and I have forgotten some of the names….

Remembrance by Beaven Tapureta

When your words pinched the last out of me
I became an outlaw of love,
Lost the route to the garden of the Doves
Then I found a piece of you

In one dejected drawer in my heart
A memento
A dusty piece of undying love

Mother's Day by Abigail George

She remains poised
With a baby’s breath
With diamonds in her eyes,

Pieced together
With worldly materials,
The edges of an unholy precipice,

Roses wrapped in a glass vase
Their skin butterfly-delicate
Their heads focused membrane-thin

Petals shrouded like pulp
Stained like the lines on paper;
Blood-red taut love knots

Only a glove
Would fit your hand
Perfectly now

Your drumming, beating,
Beautiful, pulsing heart;
I follow your thrilling progress

Your tension
Through life with pride
Her roses give off a red love light

She is free
Even in the dark
She is on my side

She is still a goddess to me
Natural, warm, giving,
Generous, gracious, all heart

It is my heart that melts,
That questions nothing,
That communicates nothing.

Things that once changed
Left and right, hung in the balance
Gives every centre a middle

Like animals stirring in the wild
Although trapped, dirty, stumbling,
They lick their young

You never strive
To communicate your undying,
Unconditional love to me

You never struggled to commit
To a private showing of it
Like seawater it rushes through me

Like when I was a child
Under the sun at the beach
Hands flushed, sticky and sweet.

I Have A Poem by Walter Keyombe

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll spread the message with its fires
Towards the planets with holocausts or killings
A poem that’ll talk about reality amongst the
Communities tortured and marginalized
A poem that’ll be against female mutilations
With sex violation and child abuse
A poem that’ll sail on the oceans, seas
And lakes.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll flow deep in the hearts of mankind
Imagination with persecution and murder
A poem that’ll transform many faces from sadness
To joy in the season of revolt
A poem that’ll fly above the moons, stars
And suns.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll born the richness of solidarity
For the poor and needy ethnicities
A poem that’ll climb the mountains with rocks
Against the tribal war and hatred
A prayer that’ll linger across the borders, horizons
And skies.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll never accept dictatorships
But the democracy to embrace the integrity and equality
A poem that’ll victoriously shines in the midst
Of darkness to steer the world for light
A poem that’ll challenge the axis of conflicts, hunger
And war.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll change the masses from
Racialism and imperialism to harmony that prevails
A poem that’ll face no fear on the Leaders
Of the earth in the nuclear advancement
A poem that’ll heal the children, mothers
And fathers.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll sweep away intimidation
And humiliation of racism
A poem that’ll stand by the justice
Towards the sufferers and victims on soil of
Terrorism and Aids stigma
A poem that’ll bring the new dawn
To the less fortunate, disabled
And the poor.


I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll resist the subjugation towards
The innocent creation and nature burning
A poem that’ll uphold our dignity and rights
Against the imperialists nightmares storms
A poem that’ll reign on the rivers, streams
And valleys.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll fight for my rights, your destiny
Against poverty and violence
A poem that’ll take its paths on the clouds
Of machinations with tribalism
To bring back reconciliation within the dust
Of bloodshed of massacre
A poem that’ll call for the struggle
Against the tyrants holding the oppressions
And discrimination towards culture
A poem that’ll condem the child trafficking, slavery
And child soldier.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll reflect on the lives
Living in despair with no hope for future
A poem that’ll free the deprived races
From the rising massacre and destruction
A poem that’ll boldly demonstrate against
Military dominance within the humanity dignity
A poem that’ll swiftly tread in the slums, towns
And cities.

I have a poem for peace to the world
A poem that’ll curse child Labour,
And early marriage on the rise
A poem that’ll condem and break all arms, bullets
And bombs to justice that prevails
A poem with the vision to the mission
Against inhumanity, IMPUNITY
And injustice.

Yes!
I have a poem for peace to the world

A poem!
Like Martin Luther King had
A Dream.

BROWN BABY, CRAZY by Allan Kolski Korwitz

I spoke to your brother
he doesn’t mind
so long as he gets the cash
in a lump sum
and fast

when I asked him if we should
(first) ask you what you felt
he laughed
‘no
you don’t have to worry
this business is strictly between us
she will do as we say
that is the custom of my people
and it was also your’s once
before you white men
gave up your rights’

Damn if only that were true
You see

My darling
I want you so bad

I wouldn’t mind just doing a deal
With your brother/father/uncle
Anyone who could deliver you
To me
So I could keep you for myself
And hold you every night
While the wind howls and the rain falls
And the full moon sails over our heads
And we feel our blood rise up
And the night revolves
And we kiss

Yes my darling
Things are so bad
I wouldn’t mind

Paying for you

Plastic Women by Mgcini Nyoni

Image - louisvuittonwiki.com

Those
who come close
to putting sta-soft
in their
And jik on their faces
Maybe they do.
Those who know
where pizza inn is
where KFC is
They don't know
where the library is
Those who have
six inch fake nails
Razor cut
hundred percent
Weave
et cetera
Those with
bright red lips
and fake Chinese
face powder
Those who insist
on accented, broken english
Those who think
the definition of good boyfriend
is a car
Those who put sta-soft in their hair
and jik on their faces
I call them plastic women

Thank You by Vuyiswa Nofemele

Thank you
I could only feel the heat
in my eyes
you dream, think, long to touch
call
kiss
and hold me
My imagination
ran through scenes
like the river Nile
flowing with streams of love
Yes u did the wonders
You are the God of creativity
Don't be scared love,
share,
chat,
dance,
clap with me as we dance to the rhythm of our heart beats
You make my mind elate with creativity,
But damn u caught me by surprise
It only made me smile
and say Yes
you are welcome

© vuyiswa nofemele 2009

Voyage Across The Styx. by Philani Nyoni

Friend last night as I slept,

The strangest of things I dreamt,

I dreamt I parted with my breath,

I dreamt my soul crossed into death.

There I was among the dead,

Men who have no need for bread.

First my heart was filled with fright,

But I soon found much delight.

I saw the graves of every scribe

Confined in mortal proscribe,

Open up and dead men spewed

To give them life renewed.

Lords of ink and spoken word,

Rising up from deathly bed.

Rising from their tombs discrete,

Coming forth their word to speak.

Marvell, Blake and Shakespeare,

Came through saying, "I am here!"

Scores of other poets too,

Some of whom I never knew.

We met as poets young and old,

In rhyme and verse out lives we told.

Tales of sweet-kiss, lover's breath,

Tales of pain and hard whips’ wrath.

Though I sound a lot insane,

I tell you now, I'm very sane!

Twas a graceful sight I saw,

Listen now I tell you more.

There we gathered mighty scribes,

A sight no tongue can describe,

A gathering of all the best

Risen from death bed rest.

We spoke all night and did not tire,

Lashing with our tongues of fire,

We spoke for simple need to speak,

No one glory sought to seek.




Twas bliss in Poet Heaven wild,

None the critic our work to chide.

Scribes read of from tales of old,

Risen from the earth's belly cold.

Alas as all dreams pass away,

This one too went the same way.

The morning came and I awoke,

I left my pen wielding folk.

I rose to face my life the usual,

Out to face my demons brutal.

The worst is the one they call critic,

Ready to smite with rhetoric!

BROTHER BERNARD by Masara Taruberekera

Bro Ben what else shall you know
In these twilight swords
What else shall you hear or see
In these doldrums
Only rains full of despair
Echoes of melancholy
And deafening sounds of rumbling stomachs

Your face shall perfectly define
Sorrows of our time and the defeat of our struggles
Your tears will tell us
The shattered dreams you tried to lit
Dreams which were born
To wilt in the bonfire of desperation

In these horizons
All you have to know are the nights
Despair and desperation, never hope
Dull stars heighten your worry
Your cries will never yield anything
A cry in the wilderness
A cry to the deaf and the blind

Bro Ben
Who will hear us?
Who shall see us?
Our cries
Our despair
Our desperate tries and hopes
In these twilight swords

Culture by Casandra Gaviao

I would have loved to be Japanese
to wear the Kimono and wooden sandals
or even to be an Indian woman
And wear the colourful Sari

But I'm only an African woman
Born of Shona and of Sena
mhapa and shashiko
now the African attire
for me the modern woman

Sure I'd have loved to English or French
To be called sophisticated among women
glamorous jewels and elegant dresses
But i prefer my wooden beads
Jewels of seeds, shells and stone

I would have loved to be a part of Ancient Egypt
To share with Cleopatra the riches of this world
To be bathed in milk and dressed in silk
But i do come from the South
animal skin, fabric made from plant fibre

I appreciate who I am
I appreciate other cultures
They bring a definition to who we are!

LOVE, COLOUR AND KARMA by Simbarashe Ashley Nyambara

If I where to paint love with a colour
All would be glamour
For no one colour would be enough,
To express its splendor
I would start with my own heaven and palour
All in it happiness resides and habour
This colour essence in smiles and laughter
Gladness and joy all hue the interior
But as I paint love with a colour
Karma would be the anchor parlor
If I would paint love with a colour
I would paint in summer
Let the crystal rain drops gush
Within my compound as fountain waters
I would glitter every heart with shine
And mix it well with purity in every manner
So that love would not be colour blind
I would paint it brand new
But as I paint love with a colour
Karma would be the summer
For love deserves the colour joy
Its essence and treasure are like heaven and palour
Karma the colour
In my heart you dwell
As I rejoice

My African Dream by Clerence

I smile, I laugh
Joy throbs in my heart
When I envision dreams
I see them coming to pass
Yes, I am African
The one they think can't achieve
The one they think can't dream
Under this cocoa brown hue
Under this kinky hair
Lies great potential
Like a bird encaged
This day I will let it out
Then I will spread my wings
and soar over my limitations
This day I will say
I no longer dream
No, I am past that
This day I will say,
I have ACHIEVED

THE PULPIT MEN by Abel Phiri

This what you utter
is without precedent
but the earnest and devotion of your voice
is without fallacy
This what you speak are hollow pipe dreams
but this what you do
fills it with hope

The truthfulness of your lies
is unquestionable
the wisdom of our foolishness
you harness
Our pleas you plead to address
our tears you cry to wipe
the rhythm of your voice is carnival
to our ears

articulateness
eloquence
manipulation
persuasiveness
Immense delusion!

You stole our love
in guise of a saviour
on the pretext of a redeemer
our heads your tarmac to heaven
you ascended
now we chide our trust,
one another

We serve sentences
you serve terms
our dreams are still hollow
but our hopes are to the brim
of your dreams.

CONFESSIONS: TRUTH HURTS by Thandeka Gonde

So many words,
Yet no truth in them
So much truth
Not loud enough for a soul to hear
So many things I should have said
But I refrained
I opened my mouth to speak
But the truth choked me
And words were wedged in my throat

I shut my mouth to hold back words untrue
But in impulse they did tumble out
All the things I never mearnt to
Shrill and absolute have I said
All what I said was, is not in the least
All what I mentioned not, is and has been
In senseless defense I uttered words of vanity
With words of sham I charted my course
And made approved what was not

My heart laments the deceit in my words
and in repentance I make known
Truths that lay shrouded in the depths of my soul
By layer upon layer of secrets and lies
and hatchets concealed in intution
With the motive to shield
The truth that could wound those I cherish
Yet  it would set me free
Hence I will hold back no more

SENTIMENTS OF A LONELY HEART by Cecil Gumbi

An undefined hole
A deep meaningless soul
I look at a stranger in this pool
This pool of an all too familiar dream
A dream of that Companion’s rule
Rule over me creature of eve
Torture me with that confusing whip
That scratches an itch a cant reach alone


My lonely heart sings
In black tones that the audience see
That causes stars to collide
Vision dissolves and evaporates in this sunshine
A heart in this desert without shade
I’m a hole though I know the one for whom I thirst
I dream for that creature of eve
Torture one with that pleasing whip
This deafening noise of the heart makes too much sense to me.

(c) Cecil Gumbi

WHAT PEACE? by Thandeka Gonde

All the things I've seen and heard
All the things I've perceived and felt
All the things that are
That I wish were not
But my wishes will not make them not
Do wishes come true?

All the pain I kept inside
All the silence I held onto
When I would have said so much
All the words I held back
As though I held my peace
For, what peace is there?
When there is so much to be said
That remains unsaid

(c) Thandeka Gonde 2009

He Is Here And I'm Not With Him by Mgcini Nyoni

Image - lauracohenphotography.com

 
He misses her
the love of his life
But he is here
and I am not with him
How could he be
When his heart
aches for her
She is away
But with him
In his thoughts
and in his heart
It’s me he married
For the baby he did it
honourable man
I think of letting him go
free him
Let him fly to his soul mate
But then
A slice of a great man
Is better
than a loaf
of an average man
This is the burden
I will always carry
Knowing
He will always be here
But I will never be with him.

POSITIVE'S THE LOSER 1 by Melissa S Nkomo

Positive's always overidden by negative
Beauty never lasts
Pleasure is momentary
Why should love be everlasting?
If it be positive, it sure does sour;
for it exists not in a vacuum

Dawn proceeds - lighting the world
Birds wake to celebrate
Praising the rise of yet another day
And at the melody - the bright sunshine smiles on,
warming the world.
Dew drops - flower buds pop open
Colouring the world. Light, music, warmth and colour
Is it not all beauty
But such becomes too much for the negative force
And darkness hastily shades everything

Does not the kangaroo keep her joey
safe and warm in her pocket?
Does not the gull feed her chicks from the nest?
Does not the cheetah show her cubs how to hunt?
Does not the zebra foal lean on his mother to balance the wobbly legs?
What but undying love could such gestures be called?
But close by - lingers the negative force
Death in the hands of an enemy for the young cub
Death - to blight all the affection
Love exists not in a vacuum
And so never lasts.

IN GOD'S PRESENCE by Mgcini Nyoni

I am too imperfect

to stand in thy presence

I don't have any right

to question thy ways

your will goes

But sometimes

I shake my heard in frustration

and aske why?

I am too much of a sinner

to understand how

you do things

But sometimes  I ask
why didn't it go this way
or that way
My way
What do i know about
I only wait for your guidence
Which i know won't
lead me astray
But sometimes
lost and confused
I ask
where is the damn guidence?
I understand why I don't have
a mountain of bread
But surely a few crumbs
won't do me harm
Sometimes it's all I ask for
In frustration
I sometimes say
Where are the damn crumbs?
But then what do I know
about life
bread
and crumbs?