Poetry 14 - MODELING FOR MY SANITY BY KRWILLIAMS

stretched out against your back
at five oclock in the morning
touching you and affirming my basics
flowing into the day

model with a body
that draws out greed and passion
adds dreaminess to my eyes
and forces my lazy lips into a
satisfied smile

watching you
from muramvya to gitega
my brown vision work your sexy frame
taking a little and teasing myself
seeing no other
your eyes cut into me
instigating a silent, sweet flood
your mouth
I join peter abrahams in describing
The deep beautiful things on your face that
Want to be kissed
your delicious smile
then your back
i could rest on you
forever

except for the times when you
make my passion soar
or move to the front
feeling you more

your gentle strength
is physically threatening
to those who sense the value
in this mirage

male model with a body
that sustains pleasure, passion
and my mind

Relax and Release...

Relax the muscles
Release the tensions
Restore the smile
Refocus on the goal
Rearrange the thinking
Rejuvenate the mind
Resurrect the day

Where I call HOME

Home is where my heart beats.

Where I find my peace.

Where I co-exist with others.

Where I gaze at the world with happiness and wonder.

Home is where my feet touch.

My mouth grins and feeds.

My hands, a firm grips on the simplicity of life.

My body moves to the rhythm of beats and music.

Home is where I call home.

Home is where I find my freedom.

I am a gypsy woman, a citizen of the universe.

Home is where I go.

Home is where I stay.

Wherever that may be.

WORDS, BIG AND SMALL by Donald Molosi

rings and roses vanish, fleet and pass without leaving a trace.
but words are forever so, speak for this love lives on words
and words alone can ink themselves deep into my heart and
not rings, not roses, not a new house. no. no.
speak and i will live on your words, i will drink every word and i will
follow the breath of your lips to where it will land a new loving word.
no rings, no roses - they vanish, they fleet, they pass;
speak! and i will swallow your words deep into me
and make of them my core and essence. yes. yes.
keep speaking and giving me words big and small.
my darling artist, keep talking, writing and
painting your words and in all of them i will delight.
but like my Lord i will ask again that if you build me a mansion then you should build it in
the path of a flood.

Girl Soldier poem made into a Song

Words by Standtall-The Activist Song/Instrumentation written and sung by Donald Molosi

I wrote and blogged this poem in 2009 and Donald has made an outstanding job of making it more meaningful by making it into a song. This is fantastic! 

Girl Soldier -
Injustice, corruption, discrimination she saw.
Deeply entrenched in her society. Ruling all and sundry.
She carried a gun to fight. Gun of truth. Gun of passion. Gun of selfless service.

Originally blogged on Black Looks 

Original Poem here: 

The Girl-Soldier:

Injustice, corruption, discrimination she saw

Deeply entrenched in her society

Ruling all and sundry

Her youthful innocent heart bleeds

She shields blood and not tears

She was too disappointed to understand

Then she carried a gun to fight

A gun of truth

The gun of passion

The gun of selfless service

Her gun is her passion to make a difference

The courage to be the change

The determination to make a change

There goes the girl-soldier

I WILL EAT WHAT I WANT by Donald Molosi

I WILL EAT WHAT I WANT

Driving from Phikwe, the mining town where we lived, to our home village of Mahalapye in Eastern Botswana, my face was always pressed against the back window. I was fond of watching greener-than-green mophane trees dotted with women’s brightly colored headscarves. The women in the trees were from nearby villages close to the big road and they were shaking mophane caterpillars off tree branches to the ground for harvest. Despite being an inquisitive child I could only squirm at the thought of eating these tough yellow and green caterpillars, and so eventually I would extract my face from the window.

Today I do not live in Botswana but I encounter many Western tourists who have explored Botswana and one way for them to lament my lack of exoticness is always to tell me, very seriously, that mophane caterpillars are a Botswana delicacy. And truth be told, I was willing to try mophane before but now that they are litmus for Tswana authenticity even to BaTswana themselves (thanks to poisonous Western travel literature) I have no desire to snack on the lovely caterpillar.

The African’s palate is always called only “cultural” and his taste understood as only “tribal” thereby leaving no room for the African’s individual taste. So, I write now of the truth that I am a proud MoTswana man but I will not force himself to eat mophane caterpillars. Simply because they have thorns growing from their body.

Donald Molosi 2012

My Igbo by Donald Molosi

we may all be created equal

but truth remains that

no one be like you.

it is the essence of a dream sweet and real

that my last would be my first and

your mind would impassion me.

that before you, i had never etched anyone’s name

onto the floor of my heart; that i had never breathed gently...

...that before you no one had ever

had all of me - unbolted my heart and

safely held it in theirs.

no one be like you.

for all that is physical, they may all be created equal.

but you remain the essence of what eludes the body.

simply the essence.

Donald Molosi will be a guest blogger on this blog for a couple of weeks, watch this space for exciting posts!

New Dreams! Breeze,Thoughts and Confidence

Air in my lung
Breeze on my face
Smiles on my cheeks
Thoughts in my head
Confidence in my voice
Great purpose in my walk
I stroll on the boulevard of new dreams
I don't have to walk, smile or think alone

You will always be a friend

When I said you will always be a friend, I meant it
When I said I could forgive you anything, it's from the heart
When I said I will always be there for you, it was not in vain
When I said you were special, yes in every way
When I said my dignity and integrity not negotiable, they are not
You said goodbye, not so much in words but it was understood
I kept my distance, I may do so forever
But one thing is certain; you will always be a friend

The Shameless Quest

Rationality and sanity eluded
What a heart craves, it pursues
Shameless or not the game is on

Guilt and shame trapped in the bottomless pit
Forever unsurfaced
But it takes two to tango

This heart is shamelessly on the quest alone
This heart tangos alone it seems
As the other half remains unreachable

The shameless quest comes to a halt
The heart faces rejection
The best response ever to a shameless quest

Kudi by Hafsat Abiola Costello

Kudi you won’t be growing old and grey

And we’ll talk about you to everyone that comes our way
Some people say ‘oh my mum, she was ever so nice’
We’ll say ‘our mum, she paid our people’s price’

In her time, there was a market full of goods
Surprise of surprises, they sold our people there too
In chains and beaten on the ground they would seat
As others bartered and treated them like meat

Our mum, she came by with a smile, she couldn’t hurt a fly
She saw our people were tired, the sun was high
She demanded, ‘you have to set our people free’
And the seller said, ‘ah, what do you have for me?’

‘My name is Kudi, I am money, all of me
Set our people free, pay for them with me’
With her went her husband who was money to the third degree,
So many joined till the bill was paid for eternity

Tis a pity mum, you won’t be growing old and grey
But we’ll talk about you to everyone that comes our way
Some people say, ‘oh my mum, she was ever so nice’
But we’ll say, ‘our mum, she paid our people’s price.’

Note: the poem plays with the word 'kudi,' which in Hausa means 'money' and MKO's nickname, which was Money Kudi Owo (money in Yoruba).
Visit link to read more about Kudirat Abiola's story...

HE VALUES NOT MY KIND

Women are feeble-minded he said

A hormonal deficiency he hinted

Really?

Women are weak in making decisions?

Women are thoughtless, foolish with low intelligence?

What anatomy have you studied?

What theory are you propounding?

Not that I guess but I know this not to be true

I can’t shake the feeling though of how lowly he thinks of my species

Of what opinion he has concerning the bringers of life

The raisers of kings and queens

The other half of the human race

It is but a fact that many have played down their intelligence

to satisfy the egoistic attitude of their men

Many that are culturally and religiously taught to obey their men at all cost

And lied to to believing that their hormone differences equals low intelligence

Many still will rise against all odds to challenge the status quo

My learned ex-tutor whom I believed to be open-minded

Thought my kind to be feeble-minded and used the ‘f’ word freely

Then I query, what am I doing in his space

If he thought me and my kind to be feeble-minded?

If he values not my kind?

Am I not so low in intelligence to be in his presence?

Incapable of decision making to earn his respect?

I ask again, what am I doing in his presence and space?

Yeah feeble-minded, he thinks of my kind!

............LS AND I............

The fantasy, the flashes and the flushes

The idea and reality of it

LS and I

The moments we cannot take back

Lingered on in the memory

Illuminating the mind and soul

Vivid is yesterday

The singular passionate kiss

The fire extinguished for eternity

The music at Bukoye’s abode

Forever in mind and soul

Where it plays on for all eternity

Time has passed, the world has changed

The feelings never to be rekindled

An indication of a goodbye to yesterday

Time to face reality

To snap out of yesterday

And embrace today without LS and I