Bouncing legs a joyously painful ordeal;
Cradling arms, nurturing life, lovingly securing;
Joyous laughter at small words; scolding words
At unruly deeds; strained voices at arguments,
Fire blazing, painful tears at mistakes made,
Resentment held and the loss I’ve felt.
Fear for what she would or might become
Fear that your mistakes have forever maimed,
Of all the feelings you’ve felt and held
with strong arms, a strong heart; strong will
One remained unchanging. You loved me.
I was awaked by love,
But with me, ghosts rose too.
Fears of lusts awakened long before I could articulate why they were wrong
In my pseudo virgin state, I was afloat, threatening to sink me, I felt stuck
But of a truth, He keeps his own, afloat
He got me to the alter
Fears gone.
I was awakened by love,
But with me, smells rose too
Faces long etched in my brain before I could find a place to belong
In my psuedo adult state, the lost infant, I had to trust a Father’s love.
That in His truth He keeps His own afloat,
Chases the ghosts away,
Mind freed
In the interest of love, life awakened,
And with it, hope arose too.
Our dignity is not found in status,
the coins that dress us
the tears on our backs
the tears in our eyes
Dignity is not imputed by our senses
the grace in our steps
the sensuality of our movements
the depths of our sexuality
Dignity is a quality of being human
Something never to be gained
Never to be lost
Never to be stolen
Dignity is a quality born in us
It lives even when unseen in us
unrecognisable in others
It is a quality of being human
Today, I was meant to be posting a review …
But I find myself musing over a lived life I barely knew
mourning a man who always brought a smile to our faces
He was funny
He was gentle
And until I was about 8 I somehow was lost to his existence
And ohh that booming voice, gentle voice
He made every moment light
In the short moments we spent, I somehow got to love him
In the short spaces of conversations on skype and messenger.
Twenty Twenty came with so much promise and in a space of weeks,
We had celebrated life and before it ended, it had eaten more joy than seemed possible.
His voice no longer to be heard,
His hearty laugh no longer to offer any warmth
Turn back the time … return to us the promise of a year barely started;
Give us a chance to finish listening to stories of the dynamics of life.
You never finished telling us stories of where you grew up
We never even started writing them down.
God sets before us life or death and implores us to choose life.
This world can be crushing and its dark days oppressive … but there is always hope, even when our own hands threaten to drown us, there is hope … even just a sliver as if through a crack … and when we walk through the valley and the ghosts lurk in the shadows, remember that the shadows are shaped by light … and when we are deep in the cave, deep in the earth of despair, remember that there is light somewhere beyond these dark oppressive cold places … and that as long as the sun rises somewhere beyond our view or that even when it fails to shine, that the Son always promises to shine, to be present in our weakness, in our strength and every place we find ourselves. I pray you find your tether that leads you back out of the cave. I hope you hear the love in the voices that call your name and remember your place among us and the deep pain that your absence is bound to leave. I plead with you … choose life.
Tuli bantu
The heart and soul of Africa’s roar
Tuli bana
Africa’s gems, the pride of her soul
Born wherever His winds may take us
Created from shades of dusts. Remind us
No matter how hard hammers hit, we rise
Rising like the beauty of her sunrise
Forged in the core of her heat, purified
Bathed by her streams our dreams flourish
We lift those around, in ways sanctified
The women before us, we don’t tarnish
Together we shape and sway; our ways wise
In our strength we unshackle our allies —
Our sisters, we bare up, never treasonous
In our speech, in our deeds, integrous
Tuli bana
hearts forever made on Africa’s floor
Tuli bantu
Africa’s gifts laid at ‘Straya’s door.
Happy women’s day to all women. Together we can do so much. This was a poem I did tonight at the gala organised by the Organisation of Africans in WA. The lines “Tuli bantu” and “Tuli Bana” translated from my native Bemba mean “we are people” and “we are children,” respectively.
I am my own worst critique and today, I would have loved to share a video of the poem but I messed it up, so I won’t be doing that … It was so bad, I even apologised for the errors … something I have never done , when reciting a poem … it’s all good though, we will do better next time.💕
This past week, saw a post about the passing of one of Africa’s greatest. I didn’t even recognise the photo that was shared and had to ask who it was. Oliver Mutukudzi or Tuku as some refered to him had a characterist rich voice that captivated even those of us who didnt understand the words. I remember him in the movie Neria. I had very romantic views of that movie until I watched it again about 2 years ago and realised the song I had long loved actually was about pain and suffering … I still do love it and want to watch the movie again.
This great artist put out a brand of music that helped me fall in love with being African. He sung in His Shona with such ease and comfort in who he was, and it drew you to His music; using his music for advocacy whilst also entertaining. Its a sad time for the continent but even sadder time for his family and we pray that God in his infinite grace and wonder can bring comfort.
Rest in peace Sekuru, may all you did for our great continent ring out throughout the ages.
Beautiful wild flower,
Delicate and pure,
Plucked just before it’s bloom,
It’s the Master’s field,
He decides
Love’s rarest of beauties,
Now clothed in white,
Before we could see purple turn to white
What to do with these her gifts?
Oh rarest of princesses
Now in Christ’s fields to grow
In His arms to sleep
Not married to her prince as was hoped
Now forever joined to her God
Prince of peace,
Comfort our hearts
Bring joy behind this veil of tears
shine light into the building darkness
Dawn seems forever lost,
the sun set on this her life
May the Son, His glorious light shine
As He comes to take this our cross,
Jesus forever glorified in death or life
Nenanji our sister and friend,
Rest in Christ alone
Forevermore, till He calls us home.
Love … what is love?
beautiful beautiful love,
Is it shaped like a heart,
does it skip beats like a murmur?
No,
ugly ugly love
is shaped like a spear pierced heart
skips no beats, it’s passion!
yes
beautiful beautiful love
soaked in blood like an abattoir,
Blood stained tombs made whole!
No
ugly ugly love
turned in riches for rugs
beauty for Sheol and it’s death
Yes
Beautiful beautiful love
tore my tomb open
restored my moth eaten flesh
No
ugly ugly love
can take it all away
Christ stands victorious
Christ is love
Clean slate, we come into this world,
Nothing written on the pages of our lives
Like trees even before they’re pressed between our palms,
We are soft, angels they say,
But in our veins flood the messages from those before
Like branding irons, our parents passed on
Beyond our comprehension, traits, their choices,
They say genes remember…
Curses! Like Cain! Like Adam! Like me!
Shot by my life giver before my life began
Cursed by love, out of fear of her past
My genes do remember …
My sin calls curses out, stronger!
Truth is less audible in this noise
Of who’s right or wrong,
And whether I’m possessed or just maimed by fate.
My sin drowns Love’s calls;
Truth is less audible in this vision
Noosed round my neck by your loving hands
My genes do remember…
If not because of fate or makeup
Then by mere words spoken
Like knives, they draw out your blood in me
My genes will remember…
Seen only as a product of your choices
Cursed beyond even Christs’ blood
Whatever sins were hers to bear
I’m branded with, for life, to bear…
Oh yes, my genes will remember
If you let them, might remember
Christ’s blood louder calls
Louder than these curses and visions of me.
Blessings on a hill 