DEMOCRATIC POLITICS (African Democracy)

A game it is,
It is a game played by the ocean-bellied,
It is for men fattened with aspirations of domesticating gold.

A game it is,
It is a play for actors and actresses who can’t memorize truth,
It is for those cunning; able to prank, bidding masses to their hidden agendas.

A game it is,
It is Scrabble, simple yet with words containing ambiguous meanings,
It is Chess, though this time not on boards, but out in reality.

A game it is,
One that embraces all rules yet follows few;
One that preaches rights yet bends them at will.

A game it is,
A game of numbers;
Multiple lies, multiple powers.

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WISDOM RESIDES THEREIN

What elders speak in a shout or whisper,
Heed.
What elders echo in pen or thumb,
Heed.
What elders suggest in a sigh or a murmur,
Heed.
What elders rant in a nod or a wrinkled face,
Heed.

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TALES OF BROKENNESS

These are cries of hearts crushed in pain,
They are words of voices slain,
Of faces that no longer resemble their original forms,
A people, eternities ago, sold to anguish and despair.

These are paintings coloured by broken brushes,
They are faint shadows of lost dreams, misfortune’s daily lashes,
Mere tales of brokenness, completely pitiful,
Of a people, long ago, given away to agony and fearsome gloom.

These are whispers of stitched smiles unheard
They are sketched signs of crippled wishes unread,
Ignored,
About a people, such as us, years ago, offered to oppression.

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YOU MAKE THE WORLD WHAT IT IS

For you hold a brush in one hand,
And a bowl of color in another,
To make the world blue as skies,
To make the world green as fresh grass,
With beauty and life folded in peace.

For in your heart grows love,
And in your soul flows a stream of happiness,
To make the world lovelier,
To make the world happier,
With immortal warmth and unrestricted joy wrapped in gaiety.

For your choices and decisions are pencils,
And your dreams and wishes are crayons,
Which sketch the world’s morphology,
Which shade thickly the world’s skin,
With precision as that of a star’s twinkle.

You are a potter, molding the world,
With your thoughts and actions,
You are a sculptor, carving this world,
With your philosophies and actual deeds,
This world is as you’ve made it to be.

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Poems: Gerry Shula Sikazwe
Image: Pixabay.com