Scribbles

Hear her speak, Its flames of wild fire burning sweet sensations down your ears, Imbued in wisdom and traditions of our ancestors, Clothed in enchantment of the blue sky.  Of her bewitching build none competes, Not the texture of the sun’s rays or that of petals of roses, Fairly not even the phenomenal tombs of pharaohs with all their might, It is just uniquely sophisticated. Talk of her character, Beautiful and heavenly, As the display of shiny pearls which populate the skies at night, As the glow on one’s face ignited by genuine happiness. She is a splendid gem, A woman of Africa, Of beauty kneaded from black earth A woman to adore!. Gerry Sikazwe Model: Angelina Shamz Picture Credit: Lobe Musonda

                                                          br.pinterest.com/explore/turbantes-africanos-946853069773/ The thought of losing you to another, The thought of giving you up to the next in line, That I cannot stand, That blow I cannot survive, So I want you badly. You and what you make me feel, Your beauty and that accompanying wit, Is the only sense this world makes, Is the only truth there is of what “alive” really is, So I want you badly. I need you like breath, you are my breath, I need you like trees do roots; you are my footing, Nothing fills my life with color like you do, Nothing paints my life this bright as you, So I want you badly. You and what you make me feel, Your beauty and that accompanying wit, Is the only sense this world makes, Is the only truth there is of wha...

She stands clear and fair, Shining with emptiness of scribbles, Wanting ink her skin to taint, She stands still unwritten on, bare. . Her body shows she yearns words, On her to be sewn, How she would love them to be permanent, On her eternally written. . She stands clear and fair, Shining with emptiness of scribbles, Wanting ink her skin to taint, She stands still unwritten on, bare. Gerry Sikazwe . Poem Style: Gerry Picture: Google (Author Unknown)

There is a song that warms me There is a rhythm that tickles me. There is a poem that romances me, There is a portrait that is enslaving to me. There is a star that winks at me, only at me it seems, There is a breeze that serenades seductively to me, only to me it seems. Gerry Sikazwe Picture By: Vantage Point Model: Angelina Shamz

She is fearless, holds life by its neck, She is brave, with breath of volcanoes, She is schooled in modernity, unschooled of slaving traditions, She is just a bird free, freely soaring above male-chauvinism. She is a girl in boots. She is cunning, conforms the world to her standards, She is bright witted, outsmarts women-degrading testaments, She is judge and jury, never waits to be slapped, She is as swift as wind, that whistles her own triumphs unapologetically, She is a girl in boots. She is breath-takingly fair; roses do envy her skin, She is fearfully sculptured, a carving no sane eye would resist, She has no take in mediocrity, sophistication is her tune, She is a beauty; one that stars, as if poisoned with folly, uncontrollably stare, She is a girl in boots. She is purposeful, a key brush in the painting of the future, She is a hard-worker, and the survival of the world rests on her shoulders, She is not one to keep quiet, when movi...

There is a beautiful girl that smiles for me, I do not know her very well, I do not think she knows me that well either, But still this girl smiles at me. Her smile is sincere, just like the Sun's warmth, Her eyes as piercing as stares of stars in a clear night, She smiles for me without restrain, And she smiles at me with the warmest of smiles. This beautiful girl smiles at me, With a smile that is rare, priceless, This beautiful girl smiles for me, With a smile that causes my heart to uncontrollably leap. Should I tell her I have fallen for her? Should I confess that her smile has bewitched me? Beautiful girl, has got to be mine, Beautiful girl that smiles at me, what will it cost to make her mine? Gerry Sikazwe Picture By: Vantage Point Model: Angelina Shamz

Before you came, And your voice with my ears shared, Before you came, And your hands my heart lay claim of, I doubted life was capable of such charm as you. Before you came, And your smile warmed my soul, Before you came, And your heart taught me love, I thought love was just in tales, in poems. Before you came, And your mind’s beauty displayed, Before you came, And your wisdom, inscribed in my ways, I threw right over wrong, folly tasted sweeter. Before you came, And my sight sharpened, Before you came, And my thoughts elevated, I was going to forfeit you, alas you chose me! Gerry Sikazwe

Lips wet and warm placed on mine, Soft and full of care as love they profess. Tongue sweet as fresh honey, Dripping words bursting with desire, lying passions. A kiss of deep hidden symbolism, A caress unfamiliar, a touch of foreign display, With an irresistible effect, which the wise condemningly call wicked, My mind is brutally bruised by images it flashes inside it, My soul shivers from its fierce embrace, My skin tingles and burns underneath by the waves of emotions, it breaks loose. Is this really a kiss, to radio one’s love over? Is it indeed well meaning, here to aid my heart’s beating? Or is it just Jezebel’ lips resting heavily on mine? Sweet as if dipped in sugars, yet bitter once swallowed; a poison for wild beasts? Dressed in the forbidden fruit’s skin, while diseased at its core? Polished and shining of starry coatings, but with unbleachable ugliness. Jezebel kisses again as Ticks suck life off their hosts.

Who hears when her soul whimpers, Who listens to the cracking sounds of her breaking heart, Who sees her falling tears, Who hears echoes of her groaning voice, Who has ever imagined the feel of her aching scars? None, none but herself. She is not the child on a street vendors back, She is not that street child you pass by, She is not that old lady at the neighbor's, Nor is she that battered wife in the newspaper, But it is that woman, your mother whom you no longer heed, She is your wife whom you've abandoned, It is that young girl you are plucking away from education to marry off, It is them from your very house.