We met last Friday. The group was smaller. We have lost 2 poets – Richard Likumba and Boyd Kaimbi Chibale. Boyd had volunteered to be the coordinator but as he has left Kitwe I will have to continue.
Fortunately we were jointed by one new poet, Chavula, who said he does a lot of writing, both poems and short stories.
Before I Die
I am one day old
I am one year old
I am ten years old
What am I going to do?
Is my life going to be like the rest?
Mum, Dad, which path am I going to take?
What road shows me for who I am?
Is there one thing that I can do that is for me?
What will my life be remembered for?
Is there just that one thing that will define me?
Is there a thing for me?
Mum, Dad, help me. What shall I do?
Is there one thing that I can do before I die?
Help me Lord to find what I shall do.
I don’t want on the final day you ask me: what have you done? And can’t reply.
Paul, Peter, John died for the gospel, worked with the demonstration of God’s power
Is there a blind man that needs sight out there?
A lame man that needs to walk, or are my eyes just blind to see all that I can do?
Dear Lord, Mum, Dad, help me find and do just one thing, not a million things, just one thing before I die
One thing that will set me apart from the rest of the world
I can’t be like everyone else that lives in the shadow of this world and remembered for nothing
Look upon my heart, my eyes are dripping with tears.
Till I know that my life has meaning, I will cling to you. Even after I do what you give me, I will cling to you
Can I o one more thing before I die?
The sun will not set on me till I do one thing
Help me do and find one thing before I die.
Mark R Slaughter
Read by Barney Kanjela
Under heavy haze I cast an ear…
Was that a distant hymn?
To view, to peer ahead,
I span thro’ sharpened eyes,
Connecting brain. Surprise
Awards emotion to the show –
A fine refrain.
I think I know the source:
Without recourse my keen and
Eager shoes propel my whole.
And she regales me as I close –
The drifting notes propose I place
An ear to verge upon the emanation.
Choice of left or right
Invites and overwhelms;
A brief respite, and then
I poise an aural organ,
Seeking out the balance
In the tone from rhythmic flesh.
O Holy Grail, the sweet spot!
Honed in stereophony and
Mastered out of euphony:
Her music –
Diaphragms of luscious areolae
Give the tune
Atop a vibrant bass –
Quivers in the belly of her breast.
I fall beneath a spell of heady music
As her reproductive cushions do the rest.
Crying in the Rain
Here you stand with tears in your eyes
Crying in my hands
Pleading with me to take you back
Tears run on your cheeks
You’ve got the nerve to come round here
After all you said and done.
Where were you when the sun went down?
The stars turn out in grey?
Where were you when the moon went south?
Where were you when the north wind blew?
Tell me where were you? Where were you?
You left me crying in the rain
Knowing not what to do.
It does not matter.
All alone full of fear, you went away
As the tears fall from my eyes like the rain drops from the sky, you found another
You know I was so in love with you
And our skies were always blue
But now it’s over.
And now I am crying in the rain.
Written by King Solomon
Read by Moddy Muponisi
I slept but my heart was awake
Listen! My lover was knocking
“My head is drenched with dew,
My hair with the dampness of the night”
I have taken off my robe –
Must I put it on again?
My lover thrust his hand through the latch opening,
My heart began to pound for him.
My lover is radiant and rudy
Outstanding among ten thousand.
His eyes are like doves by the water streams,
Washed in milk, mounted like jewels.
His arms are rods of gold set with chrysolite.
This is my lover, this is my friend.
My lover has gone to browse in the gardens
And to gather the lilies.
I am my lover’s and my lover is mine.
He browses among the lilies.
I belong to my lover and his desire is for me.
Come my lover; let us go to the countryside
And spend the night in the villages.
My lover, place me like a seal over your heart
Like a seal on your arm
For love is as strong as death; its jealousy, unyielding as the grave.
It burns like fire which many waters cannot quench or wash away.
Come away my lover, come away.