Rain and Poetry

Poetry is indeed mighty and honourable.  Silent and sweet showers are dropping down from the sky. These drops are cleansing the earth and paving way for the great poetry day tomorrow, Saturday 1^st December. When poetry lovers gather at the museum, when poets grace the stage and spit words into the microphone, the atmosphere will be serene and mood-enhancing. This is exactly what this rain is preparing for.  Rain loves poetry. It respects poetry. In fact, each drop that falls right now is like a poetic word plated deep into the soil only to geminate tomorrow at the Nhabe Museum. “Do not miss out,” the rain whispers. “This one’s for you – absolutely free.” Listen to the rain.  

Confident Male

“I thought long and hard about what I would say on this page. But, in the end, much of it probably would not matter. Often, people use these (and other) web sites as vehicles to overstate their intellectual (and even sexual) prowess. This should not be a proving ground of any kind, but rather a place to meet and greet like-minded individuals. So with that said, I don`t have a picture of myself posted anywhere on this site and don`t plan on posting one. What I have found is that many of the pictures displayed, rarely belong to the individual displaying them.

I make this point not because I have insecurities about my looks. To the contrary, I am a VERY confident male. For the women who have had the opportunity to meet me, it is easy for them to understand that confidence,”  - anonymous. 

Signals of You (Poem)

In my heart you dug yourself a private space

A space by the fire that burns and pumps with every one of my heartbeats
The fire that sends out sizzling signals through arteries and veins
And although our arteries and veins have been severed by man
My antenna still receives strong signals of you

The chains that bonded us together had been broken
But the love I have for you will never be forsaken
Cold water was poured on my feet the day they hauled you away
Threatening your peace and promising you regret
What we had they said was prohibited and banned as taboo
But my antenna still receives strong signals of you

If the fruit we’ve bitten on was forbidden
I still yearn to dig my teeth into it, crunch it and taste its juices
Because plainly, a forbidden fruit is the most succulent and delicious
Tasty on the skin and tasty on the inside
My antenna still receives strong signals of you

Four bars, five bars, six bars of your signal
When they lugged you away from me
Throwing mud on my face and drenching me in a pool of depression
They forgot to cut down my antenna and turn off your satellite relay
Because, my antenna still receives strong signals of you

Blissful lives we both are supposed to live
With you, with me, without you, without me
We both are supposed to live blissful lives
But the network through which you transmit never breaks
Because, you see, my antenna still receives strong signals of you

Space and time has been wedged between us
And on the contrary, we both saw the good of it
You and I, two souls justifying a forced separation
But even space and time fail to quench me down   
Because, my antenna still receives strong signals of you

Now I’m in a boxing ring without gloves, without a gum-shield
A neophyte battling against unwanted emotions
Heavyweight emotions that throw uppercuts and crossbow punches
I bleed not from my skin, nor my face, nor my teeth
I bleed from my heart
Because, my antenna still receives strong signals of you     

The X In My Name

Just the other day, someone asked me what the X in my name stands for. She felt X is a bad mark. She said it represents ‘wrong’ since teachers put an X mark against a wrong answer in students’ scripts. She also said voters at polling stations mark their votes with an X. According to her, the mark signifies that one has just voted for a ‘wrong’ government. Well, I pondered over what she said. Then I said to her, ‘I understand. But that’s wrong, what you said about people voting for a wrong government and the letter X being a bad omen. But I respect your opinion, nonetheless.”  Then I felt obliged to explain to her what the X in my name means. And this is what I said:   

To find the value of X, one needs to open up and voyage through ages and places – an expedition of time and space. And then perhaps they’ll comprehend the mark that this X makes. They’ll realise that this mark doesn’t connote to popular and corporeal implications laid out by earthly mortals. This mark is the crosshairs of a righteous weapon aimed at the filthy and twisted individuals squatting at the top of the pyramid – the wicked and elite whose sole purpose is to dwindle the world population and take over God’s creation.  As they sit at the top of their pyramids and manipulate the world, they don’t see black, they don’t see white. They don’t see Africa, they don’t see Europe. They see the world and humans – things they should deal with. 

And so, this X is on a mission to save the world. And for doing so, this X fits in every society in every nation in every part of the world. This X is for awakening humanity as a whole, not just one race or one group of people, for humanity is facing a common threat. This X therefore, stands for Africa, Asia, Europe, America, etc. In every part of the world, any individual can solve the equation and replace the X with a name befitting and necessary for such a society. So, in other words, this man embraces all. And this man believes that for Africa’s problems to end, for world problems to end, we need to target the source. And in a war against the perpetrators, this man needs the assistance of the world. And to gain the assistance of the world, this man needs to fit in every social order of the world. Thus, this X is a name that doesn’t belong to any particular language, yet it’s a name that has a meaning in a very individual language. The local political platform is just but a granule in a huge basket of grains. It is, therefore, of no concern to me. The crosshairs of my weapon are facing further and upper, at a more dangerous enemy. When the equation is solved, when the value of X is finally found, the world, and indeed Africa in her entirety, will rejoice.       

Radical Change

Sincerely, I think that now is the time to advocate for a radical change. The president, in my view, should be employed. Not just voted. He should be employed on the basis of his credibility as a leader. This means he’ll have to apply and go through a very tight interview to sieve for the best. And then the ministers of various government sectors should be specialists in such areas. For instance, in Botswana, a minister of tourism should have a masters’ degree in tourism, with of course an experience of a certain number of years; the minister of finance should be highly qualified in accounting, economics, business or related fields; the minister of roads, transport and infrastructure should be an engineer, and the rest of the ministries should be led by highly qualified specialists – then, we will have the right people doing the right jobs. What we see happening today is simply nonsensical. What the heck do these guys know about the sectors they are leading? It’s time, I think, to call for a really drastic change. Enough with political rhetoric, empty promises and outright lies!

Life, What Exactly Are You?

Yesterday I sat on my porch and watched the sun as it descended towards its resting place. As it sunk behind silhouettes of rigid trees stencilled against the horizon, I could see the golden glimmer that spread over shrubs and grasses vanishing. Tall shadows faded out. Birds chirped and hurried to the safety of their nests.  Another day had just ended. But here I sat, squatting on a loose brick, chin cradled on palm and eyes pinned on the muddy red horizon – terrible effects of a bad watercolour painter.  

 Old school classic reggae music poured off the windows of my house. The poof-poof of the bass, the off-beat and chopping rhythm, and the deep Burning Spear baritone sunk into my deepest core. The music, especially its lyrics, sparked up vivid images that brought tears to my eyes. “When I travel my journey, yes, I will always remember him.” The music was supposed to soothe me, but instead, it did the opposite.      

I could feel a faint, almost hesitant throbbing somewhere inside my skull. The little headache didn’t seem to be sure it wanted to be there, yet its presence and the discomfort it stirred couldn’t be ignored. But the mild headache wasn’t much of a concern at this point in time. My mind was in a race. Questions shot up like fatal spears but I had no answers. I had no shield against the spears. As tree leafs swayed slightly from the soft breeze, I found myself wondering what these features of existence; trees, stones, birds, animals, air, water, think about life. And death. I know what I think about life.  Life is a wonderful phenomenon, with all its ups and downs. But death, death sucks. They say you live once. True. And you also die once. But the beauty about life is that you experience it, you can write about it, talk about it. Death sucks because unlike life, once you experience it, you can’t talk or write about it. 

In the many years that I lived, I still can’t get used to the idea of death. Death just isn’t fair, especially when the deceased was still so full of life and pregnant with huge ideas that were not only meant to benefit him but his entire community. The passing away of my close friend Rotlhe yesterday left me shattered in a way I cannot explain. News reached me in the morning of yesterday that he perished in a car crush. It wasn’t a long time ago when another friend’s five year daughter lost her life in another car crush. This makes me question our destiny.   

This man Rotlhe was a highly progressive individual. I remember the times I spent with him. In these times we fed from each other as we shared dreams and ideas. We ate from the same plate and drank from the same cup, no matter how little the plate or cup contained. We’d discuss very many issues whilst listening to the sounds of reggae music. As I type this, the music of Burning Spear is spilling off my speakers and in my minds’ eyes; I can see my friend’s head nodding along to the music, his charming smile sprouting on his face.

Now he’s gone, his life abruptly ended. Although it’s still a hard pill for me to swallow right now, I guess each and every single one of us has their own way of departure from this world. And their own time. I pray for my friend, who had in fact grown to be a brother to me, to continue with his beautiful life out there. And I’m sure he will.    

Your Voice - Dredd X