Kitwe Poetry Corner – 20th July, 2011

Lydia Mhango - kitweonline

Lydia Mhango - kitweonline



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

Kasanya Chavula


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

I can’t

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.



Mammary Tunes

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.

And presently

I fall beneath a spell of heady music

As her reproductive cushions do the rest.




Crying in the Rain

Webster Kamaloni


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.



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