Kondwani Simwaba Poems

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See no one knew where it all came from or how it all started,
No one knew what to do about it or to what extent it would go;
No one knew what it was;

My Queen

My Queen
I met her somewhere in the stars, between the constellations of Aries and Orion's Bow; beaming with exuberance, her smile, quite like the Crescent moon in Winter's fall; Glistening with radiance, her eyes, glittering vehemently at Summer's light pour; her heart, warmer than summer yet she remained composed her poise, cooler than ice in Winter's snow; her voice, so Angelic you'd think the heavenly choir sung at her utterance of any words; her body shaped beautifully,a galaxy of enamour she belonged in the heavens because her celestial demeanor was as inexplicable as the science of the big bang theory; but she attracted me like the Bermuda triangle and 'tis for this gravitational pull that I fell for her and she became the order to my chaos, My Queen...

Gentle Breeze

Dusting Dreams Of My Shelf

Dusting Dreams off my shelf
I've been thinking! Pensively about hanging up this mic; breaking the stem of my pen, so it could bleed ink one last time as I lose the ball at its nib just so it cannot point on pages anymore.
I've been thinking! Contemplating about my imminent divorce from the Arts; you see my first love and I haven't really been on speaking terms ergo our marriage has broken down irretrievably, guess I gotta go.
I've been thinking! Brooding over my Anhedonia; see I find myself at a stage in life where stages act like cages, restraining my wages; abashed by the little recognition I get from fellow sages.

Who Then, Should Define Love?

Almost everyone can define love based on Apostle Paul's letter to the Corinthians; but who really can say they fully fathom such a complex topic?
If I do speak for myself; then I reckon everyone is but a professional on matters of love, because love is but a proponent of time and time breeds experience and thus everyone has their own experiences.
Or could it be that which the early philosophers said to the Athenians; or that, that message still lives with us to this day except with time we've all become myopic?

A Poem Within A Poem

A Poem within a Poem
What happened to the voices?
The ones that spoke to me,
Those that woke me up at midnight and;

Pissing In The Air

Pissing in the Air
Fifty one years since the first case of AIDS was recorded, ARV's and a self test AIDS Kit are all we've afforded; AIDS is such a concrete subject I reckon this is a major break through, because all possible cures have been regarded as somehow untrue; all cure stories have been shutdown for fear of major corporations being shutdown; they don't want me to talk about this, just look how they made Dr. Sebi kiss the ground.
Another one bites the dust, come with iron clad evidence about an AIDS cure and watch just how it all turns to rust; alas! My peers condemned me for talking about Nipsey Hussle as if it is such a hustle that I should talk about the Cyclone Idai, why! I swear I shed tears because it is such a damn tragedy what happened to those people; but what Nip inspired in me could never be simple; that's why I gotta pay my respect. That I should have talked about Xenophobia but y'all just didn't read my poems, that's why you try to put me in a box despite my claustrophobia.
I come from a country where Democracy is such a fallacy; they don't want me to talk about this because freedom of expression is an intellectual myth and even though I would like to side with the private media, I can't because they all just preach propaganda, it's all just vanity. I mean seriously, what power has my voice when even the most influential opposition get behind bars; I can only write these bars but honestly I am allergic to prison after all, who's gonna takecare of my child when I am in prison? Whoever said family holds you down, probably meant it in an Anchor context; because nobody supports nobody, it's all just a meaningless contest.

What Has Become Of Us?

I never would have imagined that it could come to this; two birds of the same feathers flocking away from each other, but maybe in due season when fruit departs from tree and the sun from the day; when night falls and darkness covers the firmament; when the tree divorces the leaves and clouds are seen no more; when the poet lays down his pen and can't write anymore, because his inspiration is gone; when the artist can no longer draw any attention from his followers and the composer can't make do with his ‘heart' beat. I wonder, what then shall become of us?
It was inevitable though inexplicable, we just played dumb and it remained unspeakable. This day was coming but we both ignored the truth and comforted ourselves with that which we desired and wished for; I swear I could pen them down in art, all the things I dreamt of; all that I desired and hoped for, see! Because the same things I prayed for scratched my heart beyond bandage repair, but who am I fooling? It has been too delicate; I swear this heart has experienced more falls that the mighty Niagara itself; so to say I paid attention to this journey would be but a blatant lie, because we both know how broke I was. I just wonder, what then shall become of us?
They told me what they thought, but I rejected their counsel and when they called me fool for making ‘Tazama pipeline' dreams I just darted from them; I mean who are they to comprehend that which I feel? Who are they to question my emotions? I swear if I was a story teller, I'd tell it to my children's' children so they can understand, because as it always has been, ‘those who know not of history are doomed to repeat it! ' I know the reader wonders too, what then shall become of us?

I Can See Clearly!

As the lights come on and I begin to see the truth that lay before me even though, I chose to look so far beyond; the dream that never made any sense was a reality awaiting my exculpation; a fantasy that stared right into my eyes and yet I blinked and ogled at the wrong sight; though Reppunzle stood before me, it was Cinderella I really needed yet I was blinded by the former's mighty hair; even though she spoke to me so tenderly, my heart was never really there; she fell in love with my words but I never really did care; that which defined me is what she loved and I couldn't fathom it at the time; so now before it's too late I wanna describe it with a rhyme and this is a sonnet for the unseen.
This is not just another poem, because now I can see; that which was covered by darkness is revealed; that which was over shadowed by false hopes can now glow; that which was shy is now confident; I can see clearly! That which lay under my nose when I sought hope from the roof top, I can see clearly; with my heart I can feel it; with my mind, body and spirit, I swear! I can recognize it; see! When my heart broke it healed me with a single touch, but I took one too many pain killers, I couldn't identify it; except now as my comrade the mighty Moon glows and the twinkling stars appear, I can feel it, for it has always been a part of me though inadvertently, I chose to overlook it but not anymore, because this time I can see clearly!
I dare to stare at that which made us a pair; the beauty in the smile that tamed my war, a true heart slayer; so many songs to sings and words to speak but with a rhyme to prepare; the glow of eyes that weaken the soul, insidious is but this snare; the curtains to fall and veil to drop for there is no shyness when love is there; I sought amongst the stars for a beautiful love so rare; yet underneath the skies existed a heart to care; for all the times my heart got broken and I ignored her who's to say life isn't fair? But I have overlooked her for the longest and this time I remember her in prayer; so I dare to stare at that which makes us a pair, because this time I can see clearly…

I Never Thanked You Enough

I never thanked you Enough
On a blustering sunny day you'll see him sweating, trying to to hide his fatigue by forcing a smile; he is beaten by the hustle; yet you'll never hear him cry foul; tougher than a mule as he breaks sweat for bread in his unforgiving bustle; never accepting defeat even in most impossible states; he taught me maths with a slap when I couldn't multiply; you'd never see his tears no matter how rough life gets; a man who taught me that to be a man you don't have to cry; but approach life with studies, for trials are merely tests; and even though my momma never had wings, his alone was enough to make her fly; always protected his own and them through school; I swear! I've never seen a greater man under the sun than my father; so I write this piece with thanks giving because I always felt like I just never thanked you enough for everything I am. Love you papa..

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