Thursday, 20 June 2013

THE MECCA OF POETRY


I am the Mecca of Poetry
She is my wordy lover –
And, I am her pilgrim

I go inside her – Poetry
With expectations, hope
My soul will be rectified

I am the Mecca of Poetry
With the fancy tower,
That leans – straightened

I go inside her – Poetry
Taken by my pilgrimage
My path of strength

I am a scholar, a lover –
A friend, a loner, an icon
That is a Mecca of Poetry

Make me be more – Poetry
Make me feel more – Poetry
Poetry, you are my Mecca

I go inside you  – Poetry
With expectations, hope
My soul will be satisfied


By Linda Sakazi Thwala
Linda Sakazi Twala

Wednesday, 19 June 2013

THE QUIET SPEAKER’S VOICE



The speaker walks devoid of word
In a place, that no man ever told
Like distant echoes, out off-site
A quiet world is sinking in dry
As the desert sands that one try
The speaker feels it in his walk
Love, has in a faraway place left
All the humane voices, were felt
In the seasoning meditation of wits
The closer journey is an attraction
To the tiring, step-by-step of man
Throwing metaphors in the still air!
Everything that has been, has faint
Frail aberrations of a dying season
The speaker walks devoid of word
The quiet words are stolen winds
Oddness in an abrasive tick of hour
A voice heard by the fallen light
Oration by the wings of redemption
The Heavens will see them fall –
Clipped between glow and gloom
A place that has no in betweens
The absolute is not love, nor hate
For there is no absolution in any
In its two sided silence and shouts
Like the walk that goes on endlessly
Enough came - enough was not steal
Enough left, for the heart was not steel
An oracle written in the days of youth
A child, a boy, a man, in the walk of life
The speaker walks devoid of word
Listening to the silence that speaks
The crashed cramped cracked words
Death will never know thee in death
For in death, thee shall stay on –
In a place, that no man ever told
Where the heart is mellow in yellow
The warming hands were not enough
But the silent walk will bring endurance
The warming feet will be all enough
In the voice of quiet peaceful peace



By Linda Sakazi Thwala
Linda Sakazi Twala