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I used to piece words by zamantungwa

zamantungwa | February 28th, 2011 | poetry | No Comments

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[tab id=1]I used to piece words
In a rhythm that moved hearts
My pen kissed the page tenderly
And Words would flow
To Fuel struggles of woman power,
black consciousness and love
And so armed with my book
Blk and blue with inspired rhetoric
My words would rain
claim the ears meant to hear,
hearts would pound
Free spirits fly high
Carried by my words.
Then,
For months loose words
got caught in my head
to them all doors closed.
I attempted with some glue
To piece the words together
struggled to unleash the dance
But the page remained spotless

No stain
No rain
No page
No reign
No stage
Words were trapped inside me
Kept away from my people
They were trapped by me
Not able to connect with Myself
They remained inside me

Till I turned to
Where things that changed
Remained the same
Where the movement moves and
stays in one place
and for some the struggle continues.
I returned to
Where Zwesh still chants
and poetry is still Flo
Nomkhubulwane still roars and
Supreme is melody
Where Myesha’s still purrs on the mic
Reminding me that love is real
The triple K rages blk and
Kabelo’s still hungry
And there, in the midst of all the poets
There are still wannabes…
The mic is still open
Inviting the real and fake alike
The revolution is televised
And the poet chases celebrity-dom
The scene is dying leaving a
Stench of copycats,
Pseudonyms for pseudo-poets pushing pseudo-Afrikanism
I have returned to ashes hoping
The phoenix will rise again
Believing some change gon’ come
As phases pass
The face will be restored
Cos the real are still out there
As I revive a cliché just to say
Poetry you the love of my life
Forsake me not for I am poetry!
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