FixAfrica

I wish I could be a little of everything So I can understand and behold every estate -Its joys and its pains. I wish I could be that mother Who struggles into a trotro everyday with a child saddled at her back. She marches on relentlessly in a pool of sweat- a mélange of suffering and hope. I wish to be that young lady Whose secret is misery and whose fears lie within herself. Under those thick sheets of make-up, long claws and a mini-skirt Is a fragile soul at the verge of breaking. She struggles in silent anticipation that tomorrow will be better than yesterday. I wish again to be that young man Whose hunt for a job has deflated his ego. He has been rendered useless to his waiting family. A hundred mouths to feed; A well-statured young man with no crutches for his amputated dreams. He limps into the sunset and awaits another day. I wish… but then I am trapped together with them In a cage of corruption standing under a merciless sun.

THE DREAMER’S CHAINS You can chain up my soul please But free the demons in me. I am bound and yet I am free. I feel trapped-unleash me! Let me be the cascading waterfall that flows from the mountain deep, The feather that contests with the whirling wind and the firefly that dares to outshine the blazing sun. Set me free or I will cry a river full until it erodes the flesh of my vision. My dreams cannot go putrid like poultry Yes! Let my dreams flounce. For what is the world without dreams? Dreams that cannot ran wild And bounce And flounce.

RAT ALERT I watched with undivided attention as they scampered into the cracked walls, Through the crevices, pipes and metals that had gone rusty and old. Their legs trembled from the weight of their grateful stomachs that had been filled with booty from the rotten spoils of the trash can. Two brothers, devoted to each others well being But wrecking and rummaging through the business of men. Their beady eyes shone with mischief, for they had no cares at all. They sneered from the dark corners they called home At men who bothered with clothes and technology -Trends and burdens. Yesterday brother one scurried below their feet, Sending chills and stirs through the spines of the bravest men. The stink that emanated from their body was their secret weapon for survival. I don’t know how long they have lived here, Under the shadows of this mighty fortress. But I applaud their bravery! Little rats who dare to contest with men. For they too call this f

A sunken ship never contests with the starry skies A broken heart never sings with the river birds in the morn Why imagine risks when there is none? I present a simple case: Love for you, pain for one You envision tearful days ahead but my immunity to these days scare my ancestors An immunity so strong it leaves no room for sentimental sores to fester What will cause my weary soul to leak toxic fumes of hate? Hatred that turns a witch’s blood cold? I’m immune I said! Misery is my company, and pain is my only joy. Let me love you…let me shield you Why torture yourself boy? Please, don’t! Don’t you dare love me I’m broken too Two broken souls cannot thrive in the sands of time I will break you. I will break your will I will empty you. I will extinguish you. On love’s altar shall your spirit be poured Till the gods of my land are drunk to stupor You will be emptied like the shell of a king crab. No emotions. No empathy but dark hollowness to fill your d

If you should search deeper into my eyes you will see fear , you will see hurt If you should read deeper into my palms, you will see a future so dim If you should search deeper into my soul you will understand I need healing, I need mending Search deeper than my soul can reach reach deeper than my heart can feel If you hear the gentle whispers of the wind today, my love, it is me, asking you to mend my broken heart                                                                                                                                      18th August 2011.   

THE WANDERING SPIRIT Tangled under an abyss of darkness; My heart yearns for the watering of a desolate soul. My soul cries out and screeches with the witches’ mandrakes And I reject my spirit being. The fears of yesterday are an avalanche in my soul disturbing the sanity and sanctity in me. It leaves me strapped in a gothic cave of imbalance. Find me the balance if this cursed world, And with every fibre in me, I will bow in hasty gratitude. I am on the run for freedom For everything in me must burn slowly In the light at the end of the tunnel.