Origins

This rich earth.

 

This culture

our ancestors

bequeathed us.

This culture

we shall

in turn

bequeath.

 

The savannah,

the desert,

the rainforest.

 

The shore of the Atlantic,

the Indian ocean,

the Mediterranean.

 

This is blood.

Old blood.

This bitter aloe vera.

This sweet honey.

This gourd,

this kora.

 

This, the shield

and the spear.

This, the barrel

and the bullet.

 

This, the earth

from which we come.

The earth that shall

in time

consume us.

 

This is mother nature.

The land of the baobab tree.

 

The soil,

the greens,

the barks,

the roots,

the lakes,

the rocks.

 

The wind blowing across.

 

The rain,

the clouds,

the mud,

the stream.

 

The buffalo grazes.

The Lion sleeps.

The peacock flaunts.

The snake slithers.

Moths flutter.

 

This, the plane.

This, the field.

This, the marketplace.

 

Colours bright,

faces glistening under

the sun.

I am of here.

 

I am an African.

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Therapy

I have lied to myself for

long enough.

I thought I needed you.

 

There’s a good side to you

and a bad one too.

The latter outweighs the former,

but I did not see that.

I lied to myself.

In error I thought,

In error I was.

 

I loved to breath you in.

I loved to breath you out.

You were the drug I couldn’t

live without.

 

There’s an inspirational side to you

And a disastrous one too

The latter outweighs the former

But I did not see that.

I lied to myself.

In error I thought,

In error I was.

 

I won’t beg you to leave me.

I will muster up

some courage

and do it myself.

I shall leave you…

That’s what I want to do.

 

You took me to dungeons

I do not want

to visit…

ever again.

 

You’ve caused me pain.

That’s why I’m writing this.

 

I won’t give you

power.

I won’t ask you

to leave me.

I will muster up

some courage

and do it myself.

 

You’re the drug

I couldn’t live without,

and I know

without a single shade of doubt,

you,

are not good for me.

 

Take back the honey I licked from you.

I do not need it.

I will look

for some other honeycomb.

One that will not take me

to those

dungeons you led me to.

 

I won’t ask you not to come

knocking

at my door

because

I’ll muster the courage

to not look for you…

because

I’ve finally realised…

You never needed me, but

I

am the one

who craved for you.

 

I learnt from the best.

I learnt from you.

The treatment you gave me

I’ll give you too.

I won’t crave for you,

You won’t crave for me…

So farewell.

I hope this is

the last

you’ll hear from me.

 

 

 

The Righteous

The righteous are those who are thoughtful,

 

merciful,

 

do not oppress.

 

They do not plunder, murder or sneer.

 

The guardians of virtue

 

and human life.

 

 

 

They love, they care, they cry…

 

cheer the disheartened and touch the indifferent.

 

They’re not divine, no,

 

they’re not sublime.

 

No,

 

No…

 

they’re not…

 

not at all entire.

 

 

Amongst them are the poor…

 

and the rich;

 

The poor, rich in their hearts –

 

The rich, poor in their greed.

 

 

 

Such are the righteous:

 

They do not hate,

 

No…

From love they feed.

 

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