As we continue to promote Poetry in Zambia ; here are this weeks poems ,enjoy.
I DANCE & Cry by Kulijekusuzyika Jr Nyambili
At dawn am awaken by the beat of an African rhythm
And my body is filled with enthusiasm
As though it’s a dream, yet so real
It’s the sound of the cradle of mankind; the true sound of Africa
Because everything begun in Africa
My hands clap, and my feet?? My feet so eager to stamp the ground on which my forefathers danced
As these my bare African feet stamp the ground
My surrounding is filled with dust and my spirit is awakened
The spirit of a true son of Africa
Lost in the rhythm, I open my eyes
Only to realize that am surrounded by a crop of sons and daughters of Africa
And we are lost in our traditions of rhythm
As we dance, I can feel the spirit of unity and love, a bond of peace and laughter
But suddenly! My laughter and joy is cut short
My enthusiasm turned into trembling
My laughter only seems to be but for a Limited time
Sons and daughters of my land in chains and pain
Famine in the midst of plenty, Hunger and strive when others big cars they drive
If I had a chance this pain I would shred and grind!! When we have sight we seem blind
In my humble compound what I hear is whaling and crying
Empty pots and thus empty stomach
Every day is a struggle, we struggle to survive and thus we weaken our muscle
Political masturbation and prostitution is the order of the day
They represent our interest so they say!
But for them, in our interest is a big car and allowances while our children are left to walk kilometers to get an education and health
What they say is in our interest I see it from the terraces
Am afflicted by disease but their luxury never seems to cease
They say they work for my interest but I struggle for my own rest
I would never survive if I lived with ease but with ease their wealth they increase
While our poverty, pain and disease is increase
Every day our people become diseased and deceased
Our women for year’s bed ridden, our men even worse! Our men even worse!
Our children die before five, while their children start school before five
Our children sit on logs in class! Their lap is their table
While their children sit on furnished sits and tables
In the midst of all this I will not stop to dance
Through my dance this pain I relive
I will not keep quiet I will speak
Through my poetry I will speak
Through my dance I will speak
As we pray for grace.
Amen!
IAM HIP-HOP by Edwina Muzunda
I am hip hop.
An element of the beatbox when my heart to every beat beats and to every sound skips.
Every step i make is a tiny foot in the shoe prints of the great who went ahead of me.
A history on my every path,some already created, most i’m creating.
Iam poetry. A striking resemblance between me and every word carefully picked to describe greatness, awesomeness, and everything in between.
The rhyming words describing how the bits of my life fall into place to make rhythm with the master’s plan for me. Iam every word used to stimulate varied emotions in myself,and all who care to be influenced.
Iam musical, lyrical, critical, stubborn & political. Argumantative and i think evrything is debateable. Maybe thats why im an advocate-of peace & justice; for the lost & voiceless,the weak and powerless.
Iam but a child.
With a constant need to be checked on,by a loving friend or a plotting foe.
A need for a spiritual guide and a need for a life coach.
A need for mentorship and for mentoring.
Iam many many things. A thousand things in one. A triune being, spirit soul body, as evidence of the triune God,father,son,Holy Spirit.
Iam just the created, @ my best when i exist in Him,in whom i live,breathe,move,and have my being.
Iam hiphop-every beat of my heart beats to every command of His.
Every step i take.a tiny foot in the path he ordains,in the prints he walked.
Iam bold and iam beautiful, because He makes me who iam.
By Kapa187
