Poetry from an emerging Zambian poet. Poetry is an expression, and as such I implore you to consider, interact and identify yourself with these expressions I echo.Above all that dare see the world with new eyes and challenging even what you know facts of life.
Journey on!
We do not abound in strength, We cannot boast to have muscles of Hercules, We are not gifted with terrifying physical build, But we order about the strong. We do not have confident voices as of Luther, We do not have words of Eisenhower, We surely cannot speak like Churchill, But we run the very world which their speeches once steered. We do not have fair looks, We are not with eyes that twinkle or glow, We do not have charm in our dress either, But we have beautiful minds, and that makes all the difference. We are creators, we are designers, We are nerds, with minds that see beyond this time, We are thinkers, we are dreamers, We are philosophers, with eyes that see beyond this time. Gerry Sikazwe Picture From: Google
- Who Will Marry Musuma?- Who will marry you Musuma? With beauty of the morning sun, Eyes of a twinkling sky, Touch as soft as clouds, Musuma, who will marry you? Who is worth your value? A woman that gods plan, from our village at night to steal, A woman who is wrestled for by our village's strongest warriors. Who is fit to espouse you? Who will marry our beauty, Musuma? For now her head slowly greys, For now her skin gradually loses its softness, And she soon approaches barrenness. Who will marry you, pride of our village? I fear, your beauty might become your mock, I fear, a spinster you would age, I pray, old and unwedded you do not die. What a shame is there anyone befitting of your beauty O daughter of Shula, the great Hunter?
Winds may manage to erase our prints off the belly of the earth, Smiles we lit on faces of people may go off, Life may even pretend to have not birthed us, Dreams we molded to create better futures may be treated as trash, Then, when death has had devoured our lives. But now is the time, Now is the time to inscribe our names, Deep in the skin of the sky, Tattooing them so thickly that stars should envy, So that even when we pass, Those alive then may know that we too were here. Time and seasons will soon forget us, Even flowers in our gardens without us will go on, Friends and acquaintances we made alone will leave us to sleep, Gold and silver in our youth we picked will have new masters, Then, when death has had harvested our lives. But now is the time, Now is the time to inscribe our names, Deep in the skin of the sky, Tattooing them so thickly that stars should envy, So that even when we pass, Those alive then may know that we too...
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