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!
Dreams
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
We spoke words, We sung our emotions loud, We felt fiery feelings for each other, We shared smiles, we shared frowns, We played in the rain, we wrestled in the mud, But today we are against each other, Today we are pointing not only fingers of accusations but actual machetes, My folks why are we at war? * Remind me please, why are we fighting? Is it because Ngwenya's son stole a cob of maize from Chona's field? Is it because of hunger found in our own brothers household, that we choose to spill blood? When we were young, remember, we stole not for hunger but for pleasure, Even then, our parents never in a moon wished to shed blood, Our parents never sworn enmity, never disowned each other because they knew that children are children, Now our son has stolen for hunger, a noble cause, Why then should we fight, men of one house? Why my brothers should blood be shed? Why should blood of our very own be spilt? * Is our blood of equal value with maize? Should our blood be of eq...
Toil is the only recipe for survival, Those who shun it, lean and unhappy die, Toil is the talent the old master gave to all, Multiply it, and he shall richly reward thee. Wise son, despise neither her nature nor dress, Detest not her, lust after her as youths with folly desire wine, Only she will walk you through your youth and anciency, Only she will love you till your heart fails. Work, work, work and work alway, Riches to amass, control of men to cage, Seek her lovingly, follow her biddings alway, Into gold than of Midas, your touch shall become.
With colorful words, painting beautiful pictures of your smile, your whole, With love in every pause, in every punctuation mark, I write you this song. With warmth borrowed from your laughter, With pleasant chills from your cool, I pen this love song for you, Just to remind you that you are what my heart races after. Its language is simple, yet meets your sophistication, Its rhythm is as golden as the warm rays of the morning Sun, Its shape is as ancient yet mysteriously charming as the Egyptian pyramids, Its texture is that of a baby's tender skin, soft and supple for the merriment of your heart, It, this song, I write about you. It is a love song for you. I have, So tonight when clouds fall asleep and the sky remains bare, Attentively listen to the singing stars, Listen carefully to their twinkling voices, for the song they sing is none like what mortal minds have ever composed nor their voices ever sung. It is my song, a love song for you. It is a love son...
Comments
Post a Comment