The Journey Begins Here!

Poet!K Flavour is a blog for upcoming African poets to share their work with the world. The blog features poems on Africa, life, nature, friendship, Love,...and everything that people care about.

This year, the best poems featured on this blog will be compiled and published in a single poetry book and the proceeds from sold copies shall be donated to charity within Africa.

This is a project for charity, get involved, join as a poet, tell friends, post comments, follow this blog,…take a step to solving the problems in your society….if you believe that Africa is not as it should be, join Poetik Flavor, the journey begins here!

To join as a poet and obtain blogging rights, contact the blog founder Imran Nakueira, be sure to send two sample poems and an Email Adress.

Being a charity project, poets will not be paid for any of their works published in the final edited collection. Poets with works appearing will however be credited for their work and, of course, receive at least one copy of the final publication. No poems will be reprinted without the permission of the poet. More info about the final publication will be layed out at the appropriate time. Thank you.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Maybe...justified. Copyrights (c) (2011). CLK PHAKEDI. All rights reserved.

Maybe Im leaving just so that I can say you did not leave me...heart broken, eye swollen, tear dropping, breath fading, in a coffin looking up at those I love more than I should have loved you.
Maybe Im leaving because I over-slept on some train of fairy tale dream I had control over for a while...your actions, temper, attitude, steps you took and claims of love you made.
Maybe Im leaving because déjà vu appeared too many times in the table of contents, biographical texts wiped, I forgot me coming before's a plane alphabet.
Maybe Im leaving because I don't want to be a reference or statistic...pages of research, facts, theories and novels.
Maybe Im leaving because I am not into the truth and reconciliation, repeating events going over it all..."yes, no, perhaps it was me but I'm not sure".
Maybe Im leaving because I know a smile is what I should have everyday, its not for sale but as valuable as I am.
Maybe Im leaving because gravity was pulling me down, Im all about staying down to earth but I know my level of weight...negative thoughts, words and talks are not part of that weight.
Maybe Im leaving because you lost your ticket to my heart and I just grew tired of renewing it, the expense of replacing my pillow case every morning become too much.
Maybe Im leaving because I need to let go of the past, for it does not belong were Im heading.
Maybe Im leaving because my face is precious, my dignity is great and I deserve what and all God has instore for me.
Maybe and just maybe Im leaving because it would be the best decision after loving myself enough to leave.
#and now Im walking out the door

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

in that order

this just came to me. uncut, unedited version.
lemmi try to read the scribbles in my note book.

breath, you, in...
musky, woody, scent
breath, you, in...
i find heaven between your neck and shoulder

trickling down the arc of my back
blowing through the folds of my ear lobe
hot air
in that order

the wetness, let it pour
salty, sticky
sex funk

breathe, you, in...
the oil i put in your hair
the chap stick on your lips
the cologne you spray between your neck and shoulder
i truly find heaven between your neck and shoulder
the spot at the back of your neck,
when i touch, you shudder

breath, you, in...
musky, woody, scent

your chest, your core
so much than the physical
your heart beats for me and you
your hands, keepers of my heart
your finger tips...
"i can't breathe"
your finger tips

that butt!
those legs,
those legs and those feet,
that bring you to me
every time
last month and week,
yesterday and tomorrow,
those legs that find their way to me

"look at me"
breath, you, in...
musky, woody, scent

the wetness
let it pour
salty, sticky

kindred spirits
sex on fire

i find heaven, between your neck and shoulder.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

the way you would ride me. R.18

Mr. Man
Mr. Lover
Mr. Man who i would marry
Who's babies i would
Again and again and again and again

The way you would ride me
The way i would ride you...
Moments i think about
Everytime i'm with another brother
Who may seem similar
Whose touch is familiar
But doesn't quite meet your criteria
I think of another

The way you would ride me
The way i would ride you...
Moments i think about
Everytime i feel another's caress
Whenever he grabs on my chest
And tries to squeeze,
Like you squeezed...
I need some of that Marvin Gaye,
That Sexual Healing, i still can't quite get the feeling...

The way you would ride me
The way i would ride you...
Moments i think about
When he comes over and tries to get freaky
Feeling on my panties to check if they're sticky
Putting his ear to my mouth to hear my heavy breathing
He'd do his best, but it still wasn't the same thing...

The way you would ride me
The way i would ride you...
Moments i think about.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

What way to follow.

I heard my name been echoed in the distant past, I was being called back
And though I seemed to be walking forward, my feet kept going on back.
My body resisted from heading forward, my heart fought the war even though my mind told me to look at the future.
The truth was hard to find, were I was heading to, I do not know. But it is were the voice came from.
Yet I never knew it spoke what was not de truth, it lied through its beautiful voice. It reminded me of Tselane and the beast, my mother's tales of the past.
Tales that sent me to dreamland had returned to teach me yet again, to were u may ask. I don't know either but I hope to find out because I don't want go back but head forward and if my feet walk me der n my heart wins the battle, my mind shall defeat de war.
Now thats victory I applaud!

Friday, October 16, 2009

Her Guide

She dances her whole life through.
The sound of life is like a jazz orchestra...
No matter where the melody goes,
she follows through.

Light on her feet, she spins round and round...
she mends the broken earth with her healing feet.

It seems so perfect, she seems so perfect.
I call her the silent contemporary preacher because she travels with a compass in her hand,

the leader she alone can see...
Her greatest guide is the holy book,
the only map she has and knows.

The dance floor is not always smooth,
she does miss a step or two...
but when she lends on her knees,
it's the only time I hear her speak.

'Lekunutu le Morena'...
she continues...
All i understand is the end,
she says Amen and gets up again.
She stands brighter than the sun,
and for that moment I thought I saw this 'GUIDE' she speaks of.

It was too bright to clearly see,
did I really see...?
There was a word she continued to spell out while she danced...
G U I D E...

I would like to know what she ment,
it must have something to do with her mumbling whenever she falls...
Guide...GUIDE... Guide...She continues.
I stil could'nt make it out,
maybe if I shared the floor with her, I would know.

I joined her and we swifted through the floor,
she followed the compass i spoke of and I followed her.
Through the dance, her lips moved and for the first time I finally heard what she was saying...

I now felt the peace she preached,
Finally I understood her gospel.
God U N I dance eternally.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Pages of a heroin's book.

I left traces of my happy memories, hopin that you would pick them up,
Only to salvage those that bring a smile onto your face and divulge all the pain inside.
For I see it in your eyes, that which you try so damn hard to hide, only to lie to yourself that you empty right inside.
Every tear you keep from wetting your face has caused a flood in your heart. Did you think I would not notice the drought on your face?
The cracks are there when you pretend to smile and share that undying laugh out loud.
You not well, Its sounds like a water fall is at your throat, without the beauty of nature in my ears.
I think about it and realise my memories won't do you any good, guess it was with a try, though still I'll continue to try.
Never had I seen disaster gone so deep. It was about to nurture your sleep, now thats deep!
I took your hand and walked back on the same path you came and at every sight of my memory, I turned a page or two.
A picture of you appeared, the way you used to laugh. Another one on the next page, the strength you had to show.
You were what got me though my times of floods inside, the strength you had to show gave me courage to get through mountains high, valleys low and oceans wide.
You held your own and that knife you took on, I must know...was that all an act, I think not!
You did it once, you can do it again. You can back it up!
I picked up the page when we riched the end,
Look, that's you screaming victory the way you know best. Besides only an author knows her book best.
Copyrights (c). (2009) CLK PHAKEDI. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009


yield (verb)
to give up; to surrender

he carries a yield sign that only my heart can see.

in my sleep, he comes to me
my over-eagerness,
continually contributes to my consistent insomnia
heas on pillow
eyes closed shut
breathing slowed down
He is mine.
the love is tainted
but it is love nevertheless
He is mine

i awake
He is gone.
leaving me feeling...
Twice bitch slapped!

the reactions he causes,
emotions evoked,
walls broken.

My bricks are lost.

i cannot fathom,
the sweet sweet sweet agony,
that is him.
His smile is art.
i marvel at his being
My love, sacred.

he carries a yield sign that only my heart can see.