The Poetry Night was held last Friday, 15 February starting at 2000 hours.  Present was Mrs Anne Mukabe, the Director of Programmes who recorded the poems for the day for the Poetry Corner Radio Program which is broadcast every Wednesday at 1015 hours on Radio 2.   We hold these every fortnight, so the next one is on 22 February 2013 at Kitwe Little Theatre in the Main Bar.

(Pamela is Business Manager at NKAS, NKANA-Kitwe Arts Society and coordinated the first Poetry Night for 2013)

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Disjointed Emotions

by Barnabas Kanjela

 

Mostly understood or is it?

How … in a world of motives

Motives disjointed in emotions and supposedly affections

Affections found in loose bindings

Evokes grand contentment and sometimes contempt

In full bloom it evokes bliss and joy

In contempt it evokes wrath, harsh and pain

Like fire, it is a double edged sword

It can even pluck out life from itself

Disjointed Emotions

It takes one to extremes

On its uncharted path it leaves no stone unturned

Matrimony, acrimony, harmony or even divorce

Like a river depositing silt into the sea

It ends in disjointed and mixed emotions

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Roses, Kisses and Chocolates

by Bwalya Kazungo

Looking to and fro

None but the sound

The wind that brings smiles

Smiles …

Smiles with Roses, kisses and chocolates

Then eyes focused

Focused looking at you

You and only you

The joy that gives roses, kisses and chocolates

Looking to and from

Like a bird flying

Flying with Joy

Yet looking down

Down on the beauty

The beauty you have

Just like roses, kisses and chocolates

Yes …

Roses, kisses and chocolates

I just love them

Like I do

Roses, kisses and chocolates

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If I were a painting

by Webster Kamaloni

 

Captured on canvas

Alone in the portrait

I would stand

I heard you were living down in Kitwe

With them high class friends of mine

But did I ever once cross your mind?

You told them I was dead

And of my existence you denied

Oh what pleasure it gives me now

To learn that you’re pleading inside

If I were a painting

Caught in the still life

Surrounded by shadows or lost

In the back ground of blue

If I were a painting

My life would be pain

And the artist would be you

You were my breath, you were my life

You were my every move I ever made

If I were a painting

Imagine the colours would all run together

 if you ever allowed me to cry

So, don’t paint the tears

Just let me remember me

without you in my eyes

It’s only the flame that holds me together

Or else I’d be falling apart

Please go away you may spoil everything

Your love has just turned out too late

If I were a painting

I wouldn’t feel and you wouldn’t be breaking my heart!!!

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The friend we Love to Dine with

by George Howard Musonda

I’m a man without a poem, you can’t see me

I’m a man without a poem

In man’s world I’m the jewelry you like to wear

I’m like a diamond ring, like a gold chain

Yet I cause you so much pain

In the bird world I’m the eagle high

Lion of the jungle doesn’t fly

Boring and dry

My poetry is deep

Yet in the sea world I’m wide and hollow

Empty, tiny the path you fancy and easily follow

Between the lines find words you want to borrow

I’m a man without a poem, yet poetry is all I see, feel and touch

This is the line upon which my poetry dwells

When I speak, I spit sweet and split it well

I know it’s off the rail

My path a sure way to destruction, hell

I play words like a ringing bell

I’m a product of my own time trail

Brush-off the shadow

I’m the head himself and not the tail

I’m the friend you love to dine with

I’m sin

Beware!  I’m the man without a poem, proud and free

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It’s all about me

by George Howard Musonda

 

What’s the rush speed or fuss?

Pass – my seed is a bus without gas

Dash and cruise to be trash

I’m clever, smart and I know it

Stuck in the middle of nowhere

Pluck a little courage to somewhere

A deep breath I take

Hear me, feel me and listen

It’s all about me

Nobody but me

I … am … – Queen

Me, myself and I

Oh yes

It’s in the air

The wind – speaking softly to my soul

Am I dumb, deaf or dead?

Who will cry when I die?

It matters less …

Is it a blessing?

It’s all about me

Oh my death bed, as I lay to die

It’s me, myself and I

Who shall I see when I die?

Where shall I be when I die?

It’s all about me

Me, myself and I

It’s all about me

Who will cry when I die?

What about me, myself and I?

It’s all about me

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