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, 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.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Tossed Africa

Still thoughts in silence.
Questions flow stronger than ocean currents.
If I could cut a piece of my skin,
Toss it into the open sky,
Would dark thunder clouds tell the colour of my skin?
Beat indigenous rhythms of song and dance onto the earth.
Produce sounds that tell stories of the unknown past.
If I could mold all that is African,
Toss it into the open sky,
Would the motherland tell its hidden tales?
Run my fingers through the river waters.
The cold and emptiness I felt in it.
If I could see the real ingredients of that water,
Toss it into the open sky,
Would it fall down as the tears of my people?
Shot after shot, gush after gush.
Blood all over beautiful loving hearts.
If I could stop that bullet and stop that knife,
Toss them into the open sky, Could it be possible to identify the source of violence?
Plants in mother's garden,
Animals grazing in father's game-farm.
If I believed that its all this continent had to offer,
Toss my stereotypes into the open sky,
It would all rush down because Africa refuses to be tossed around.
Copyright.(c).(2009).CLK PHAKEDI.All Rights Reserved.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Love's Devine

He kissed me goodbye,
my life along.
Holding my dripping heart in his hands
Dripping red from the blood of my heart,
Give up he said,
Love is not worth it,
you are better off without it
With tears in my eyes,
I grabbed it back,
bruised and batterd
It lay in my hands
For i would rather feel hurt,
than feel nothing at all,
only to the pleasure that is life

The Trees

In the school i was,
There lived two trees
Lovers of their lives,
and each other
They caressed their leaves,
in the courtship dance of the wind.
Leaning to each, and yet,
too shy to talk
the language of love
Pulled together by attraction,
too strong to resist.
The wind , conspirator to their love.
Pushing for their branches to touch,
First tentatively, then boldly
as lovers meeting by night,
making promises never to part

Monday, August 10, 2009

A Room Full Of Spanish Man

There they stood in the most appealing essence
Lik mere cats basking in the sun, they conveyed presence of regal poise.
They wore suits of all kinds; alluding to their gallant nature and sense of style.
The smell of their opulent cigars left me enticed to their saccharine Spanish tongues.
I could smell the scent of their expensive cologne as they gait across the room with the posture of a tango dancer.
I took an attentive look at a few but only one turned my heart into a pulp and my mind barren.
Gestures offered by his aura facincted me.
His opulent and prominent affiliation magnified the valiant image he portrays.
Our eyes locked then he came towards me with that swayed walk.
I gazed away not to reveal how his presence enthused me.
"Armando Duran, ¿puede me da siéntese"
I looked at him with utter confusion.
He pointed at the chair next to me and then I understood what he meant, so I replied; "Yes, Yes..."
My heart exceeded its normal speed; this was fatal attraction.
I could make conversation but where would I start, I knew not a word of Spanish.
He held out his hand for mine, "¿cómo te llamas...Your name...?"
"Oh! Ha-ha! (smile) Linda...Linda Phakedi."
Attemptin to pronounce my surname, I politely averted the conversation.
"Spain...? Are you from Spain?"
"No...No er; Argentina.
"We continued onto a troutous but interesting dialogue until it was almost break of dawn.
He even taught me how to do the Flamingo Tango;
I always had a certain thrill for ballroom.
Never had I imagined I'd one day be lead across a dance floor by a Spanish man.
En Un sitio para lleno o de español mano.
(A room full of Spanish men).

Copyrights(c). (2009)CLK PHAKEDI. All Rights Reserved.

My Revelution

Change, grow and evolve...revolutionize yourself.
Place yourself into a new beginning, like nature; turn out the inner most beauty of your being and lik the fresh tranquility of dawn and pleasant mood of dusk;
plot the scene of life.
As your mind starts to open up to this change, Place yourself into your state of mind; meditate and have a conversation with your heart.
Listen to your conscious and unleash emotions that articulate the essence of your soul;
discover the presence of that delicate peace that dwells within you.
Contemplate the presence of that which is at the depth of yr heart.
Rediscover the roots of yr complex infinite self, your immortal soul inside of you.
Find the hidden forte of yr mind; the lustrous infant matter that idiosyncratically defines how you came about into form.
That is yr moment; appreciate it, embark on a journey of adventure.
Your state of mind goes into a completely new domain.
You hav taken a diminutive step back in life, a minute moment to place yourself into that quiet place.
A place with pleasure beyond words, a place only u can explore.
Now that you hav found the door that leads to a complacent place, a place that defines you.
You should enjoy the comfort and bliss of your peace of mind, your place of sincerity.
Be at peace, this is yr revolution.

Copyrights(c).(2009)CLK PHAKEDI.All Rights Reserved.

All Because Of Love

At first acquaintance
Our eyes and minds absorbed only what was attractive at the time
All that was around us became minute
All I found attractive about you gave me chills I can not describe
You where not a sight for sore eyes, but my heart skipped a beat for you anyway
You became an assignment, this fish I'd hook and pull no matter the storm
If I was asked, yes! I'd answer...He is mine
All of me grabbed onto your every word
I was taken to a land not so far away but definately unknown
You raided my day dreams, broke the wall to my sweet dreams and by morning my heart was no were to be found
My rod began to wiggle and I got up to take my catch, no questions asked
I thought I had it!
Assignment complete and passed with flying colours,
Funny how WE just flew like those colours
Suddenly too busy to even look at me like you used to
Something had changed, my fish I had spiced and tendered with love gave me a tummy ache
It was not my hook I spotted in your mouth
Someone stole what I thought was mine
You let her put her hand through the very wall you broke, you exposed my heart to a reptile
You kissed me with lies and thought I'd turn blind
I was poisoned with hate for your kind
Those many fish in the sea now all had a similar taste,
I would never touch another if it was the last thing I did
I hated the faint sight and smell of fish
I never wanted to see you again
Soon I ate my words letter for letter
Fell in love again!
Now astrology was my thing
I spotted myself a handsome star and when it falls
I will be there for the catch.

Copyrights(c).(2009). CLK PHAKEDI. All Rights Reserved.

My mirror Speaks

Every morning I have a conversation with my mirror,
but questions I pose remain unanswered.
Day after day I ask: "Am I beautiful?"
"DO I look good?"
"Is my smile beyond words?"

For a moment there I thought it replied back.
That was actually my conscious,
the angel that God sent to me.

She said beauty is what is inside...
but still my questions remain unanswered.
"Am I beautiful?"
"Do I look good?"
"Is my smile beyond words?"

I asked more questions, this time I asked politely;
"Mirror Mirror, charming and clear, please answer me here"
"What do I possess that makes me unique?"
"Do I have the ability to fulfill my worth on earth?"
"Who loves me more than I love myself?"

A light appeared before me,
I had never in my life seen anything so bright and when it spoke,
I got the fright of my life.

It said;
"GIRL! u sexy,
mighty fine-looking-self had better get me some shades cos dat smile sure is bright."
"and wat is dt 'moosh-mosh' al bout?
Only u gots de answers 2 those questions!"

Something surely knocked me about! I said it all at one go...I AM WHAT I AM AND REMAIN WHO I AM FOR THAT IS WHAT I AM!

Copyrights(c).(2009)CLK PHAKEDI. All Rights Reserved.

Mommy's boy

I sit back and stare at you while you not looking,
this takes me back to were we come from,
how blessed I am to have you in my life.
I stil don't know how I raised u on my own,
now look at u, how far you have come.
I wish yr father was here 2 share this view,
your handsome bright eyes look just lik his.
It hurt me to see u grow up witout him,
at first I thought I would not be able to do it alone,
it is not easy teaching a boy how to be a man,
I really had pretty big shoes to fill.
When I saw your friends with their fathers in the park,
I'd look at yr face and wonder how I'd start to explain,
hoping u would never think it was your fault...
Lookin at it all, I would rather tell u about the birds and the bees.
I'd often hear u tell your friends your father is in your heart and not gone,
it did not really suprise me,
I could see it too.
You a man now my son,
I did my best and hope you do the rest.
Go out to the world and begin to run that race,
I wil always be your mother, whenever u need me.
You may not be protected like u were in my womb but you know what they say 'A WOMAN HOLDS THE KNIFE AT THE SHARP END'. I love u my boy!

Copyrights(c).(2009)CLK PHAKEDI.All Rights Reserved.

Thought I'd find my way

Assemble yourself,
hurry bcos time waits for no man.
On yr mark, get set and ready to walk out the door.
Find your place in the world, find your feet on the ground.
Mommy's tears fall to the floor,
Daddy smiles at his boy.
Another family soldier goes to war, the struggle continues to get by in this world. The rooster starts the day,
The alarm breaks away.
I am not used to this...getting up to another day.
Many things to do, too little time, and today it seems the minutes are even less. Lord please help me get by through this day.
Driving through the fast lane,
had no time to break the fast,
guess I will have a black-one just to get by today.
Adrenalin pumps away,
I am just about to tell the boss 'FOOL GET OUT MY WAY!'
Than it hits me!...who pays that way...?
Back in my NOT so humble home,
it is tough in the nine-to-five.
Damn! Mommy I am coming home,
I jus cant make it on my own.
Now I see sucking on your breast was far better than this bottle of booz...
Besides...Im just a five year old who thought he could make it on his own.

Copyrights(c).(2009)CLK PHAKEDI.All Rights Reserved.

How the poor got rich

Madam I seek a job.
Five kids and a husband who just lost his job.
I have enough strength to grab the sharp end of a knife with my bare hand, help me feed my family like a woman should.

What is your name and how qualified are you?

Lyna is my name madam,
I am good at everything too.
An hour with the washing and ironing,
a minute with the cleanin and just under a second to feed yr kids.
Well Lyna,

You are hired!

Thank you-Thank you madam.
You will not regret it at all...I WIL START NOW.

The next day...
Madam; your clothes are all neat and tidy,
your house is spick n span and your kids are not to cry again.
My job is done for 2day.

5 seconds after:

Lyna...Where are my clothes?
Where is my furniture? AND LYNA...
Where are my child?

Lyna answers:
I forgot 2 mention...
Im related to Robin Hood...


So your clothes look better on the poor,
your furniture makes the best fire wood
and your kids need more attention than those nails...OH! n madam,
one more thing...
So thank u madam for being so giving,
May the good Lord bless your kind heart.

Copyrights(c).(2009)CLK PHAKEDI.All Rights Reserved.

Travels of a Refugee

Its nt too far nw. Just another step 2 go,
Its nt too far nw, I am almost there. Rocks tickle on my feet,
Thorns massage my aching feet, The pain warms up my ankles, The hot sand between my toes. Tip-toe...
left-right just missed a mine.
Memories of father's execution, another blast not too far away.
The enemy is catching up nw,
I have to get away. Its nt too far nw.
Just one more boarder to cross. Its not too far nw, Im almost there.
GOD give me strength,
Im now far from home.
New faces before my eyes,
a new place I call home...
I made it here not too long ago,
some how relieved...
Hope i pray i never have to feel that heat.

Copyrights (c.)(2009)CLK PHAKEDI.All Rights Reserved.

Women on the move

Its that time again.
That time that is all bout me.
Now I may not be able to change de world, but I have the power to change my world.
I hold the most important of treasures in my hand. I have complete control of my life.
Come storm, come quake, come heat come drought, I will keep doing what mama taught me, de way mama taught me.
A verbal lesson, a visual lesson what I learned was a vital lesson.
I know my alphabet; vitamin A B C...; I know my counting half-past 1 2 3...and I now know this is my time!
When troubles come may way,
I will toss my life to de heavens and grab that knife at the sharpest end. By de time my life comes down again, I will have whipped the mist away from my eyes.
I will hold on to my life and I will start moving again. Il keep moving on because the light is ahead of me and not behind me.
I will run to my dream and not watch it move further away. I will not keep driving in the fast lane because its not about when you get there but how you get there.
Even if I stumble or fall. I will not crack or crawl. It is my move, thats how I walk. Im a woman on the move.
But one thing I know, I want to get there because it is my time to move. It is my mission.
It is my game.
At the end of it all, it wil be my success on the role.

Copyright(c).(2009) CLK PHAKEDI. All Rights Reserved.

Hobo's day

He opens his eyes to the light of a new day. Looks above his head, already there is a fire brewing. Gathers his bread and butter to set into the city.

The rising sun tells a new tale. The birds in the sky are singing a new song. Yesterday's news is today's stale bread.

He breaks into the winter breez yet again. Heads to Maitland street for his only meal. When the tower cries, he wil depart again.

He knows the streets as well as its produce. There is not a fly that goes by without his knowledge. It's as though the town is his narration.

Ask him how the baby got into the rubbish bin. Ask him how 'the lady of the night' lost her head. Ask him how the man in the black car drove into a tree.

His mansion is barren yet again. The birds prepare to end the day. This is his que to set his tent all over again.

He lays himself next to the brewing fire. Looks to the sky in prayer and cuddles his belongings like a child does his toy.

Copyright(c).(2009)CLK PHAKEDI. All Rights Reserved.

Beat The Bullet

I would not do as they asked,
I refused to continue being oppressed.
They gave me a count till three...
I tried to run, but I couldn't beat the bullet.
He told me to get out of my car,
He told me to hand over my keys,
I was just reaching for the seat belt...
He blew a hole into my neck, I couldn't beat the bullet.
I could no longer live a lie,
I couldn't bare to see my children cry,
I turned to reach for my bags...
He ended all our lives, I couldn't beat the bullet.
On my way to bed, ready to end my day.
I had just lay my kids to bed, men in black masks broke down my door...
The alarm was just a step away, but I couldn't beat the bullet.
I usually keep it in the safe,
I was going to put it away, He shot his sister in the chest.
She would be breathing today, but I couldn't beat the bullet.
They came to fight the crime, They came to revive the money.
She had just started saying ''mama''.
It wouldn't have gone straight through her head...
if I had just beat the bullet.
I loved her so much, I would do anything for her.
I promised her the world, I said I would even take it for her,
but I wouldn't beat the bullet.
They were out for revenge,
They were ready to kill!
They put me to my knees and the gun to my head.
I begged and pleaded with them, but not even that could beat the bullet.
Tossing and turning all night long.
Ranting and raving in my mind.
It was more than a nightmare,
something I could not explain.
Woke up in terror but happy I was still alive...
even though I STILL couldn't beat the bullet.


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

This here, this year is how it goes.

I flow to feel my soul. I flow to ease my blow. It aint my fault, I can't hit pause, this pot just over flowed.
I kick to score a goal, I work to make that dow. I cook to fill my bowl; but NO! I wont lick your floor.
My mommy told me so, said girl peak up your toe, the game is on its all full play, what team are you on now?
Thinking all to myself...I can't give up now, I saw the light-I hear the cheers 'cause now Gods on my side.
More of all this, More of all that, pick-up that book, where is that pen? I have to start them notes.
This year I take no straw, this time no narrow road; its all straight-up, its all chin-up, my enemies hit the floor!
This won't be a little boom, this aint no children's war, It's varsity I tell you; no honey around this park. U'll be swung from left than swung to right than spitted out like goar!
Copyright (c) (2009) CLK PHAKEDI All rights reserved

Tuesday, July 28, 2009



The loneliness kills me.

Monday, July 27, 2009


My soul sings a song,
Sweeter than honey, brighter than the sun
and smoother than silk.
it is not for others to listen,
but for my heart to rejoice in.
It can be shared,
And though it must end,
the heart tries to hold on to it
It satisfies the body,
And makes the eyes glow like the fire that burns within the sun.
It runs deeper than the oceans of this earth,
And though my soul sings ,
God dictates,
and my heart writes,
The song remains happiness.


There is a star shinning so bright,

A symbol of the joy to come.

A new beginning for every man.

The star that shines in our hearts,

A door to a new beginning for all.

A journey to search out a star

The light of God to shine on us.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

my ipod's on loud...

in the dark
in the silence
shit comes back to me
rejection, attempted over compensation
drama, hurt, scars
black outs at vague bars

in the dark
in the silence
shit comes back to me
cute bar tenders
different coloured drinks
things i did after johnnie, jack and jose
herb smoked
dirty minds
dirty jokes
dirty dances
dirty everything

in the dark
in the silence
shit comes back to me
there's too many Damn thoughts
about what i have and haven't done
about being alone for two years and some
about hating my reflection in the mirror
about how the hell he could still be with her
about religion, spirituality, life and mortality

in the dark
in the silence
shit comes back to me
Stupid voices in my head
constantly telling me i'm a mess
right now... I couldn't care less
that's why my iPod's on loud
so i don't hear a thing
when the voices start to shout

Friday, July 17, 2009


Your ability to make your mark
You look above, find your spot and set away
Through paths near or far and ways big or small
You never seem to stop even for a break.
You can't be touched, even though they may try
You can't be felt, even though they would like to
But what they can do is smell your presence
And watch you rise to the top.
I would like to meet you, be lik you...
Not tomorrow or the day after but right this moment
I could my hero, I admire you alot
You always seem to find your way with ease.
Never heard any noise from you, not even a scream
You as silent as a falling feather; as light as snow
I'm begining to wonder...could you have been a model before...?
You are on the cat walk to the top of-cause.
Please don't be alarmed, I am not a stalker
All I do is follow you with my eyes...
Guess I should have atleast introduced myself
Hello SMOKE, my name is Linda...I am a fan.
Copyright (c) (2009) CLK PHAKEDI All rights reserved

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Africa's path

This path has become so easy to travel, The corners printed at the tip of my brain. Head straight to meet up sorrow street, turn right at the second corner and catch sad road. When you reach it, right on your left is poor avenue.
Yet the streets do not tell the whole story. I am not defined by the path I travel. I have hope as wide as a swallow's wings. MY eyes as sharp as those of an eagle. I keep focus on the kill, vision on my dream.
From sun set to sun rise, I continue the hunt. My heart races faster than a hungry cheetah. I overcome every sharp turn and come out clean. Without noticing the blood running from my eyes, I rush towards you like the stallion I am.
I am not only a jungle but I live in the jungle. The inside of my body lies the souls of my people. My flesh is the dust I lift at gunshot. The pain that falls upon me washes the sweat away, I am always on the set to take off.
As Africa and as African, the journey never ends.
Copyright (c) (2009) CLK PHAKEDI All rights reserved

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Listen Not to Them

We march forward,
Edging nearer enemy boots,
In no way am I
Ready to meet my end.

Listen not to them,
Do not look on them
With your eye of pity
For it is You that knows,
That in their nihilistic prayers,
They beg for our unjust death.

Listen not to them.
But to me, and my comrades.
It is us who fight for a nobler cause.
It is not us who started this bloodbath,
But as soldiers of sworn duty,
We are bound by the patriotic chore.

If you must hear them,
Let it be with only one ear,
So that at the fold of this day,
Our ranks shall still stand,
And it is not our blood,
That will bathe this land.

© I K Nakueira

Monday, June 01, 2009

It's Nature Talking

When we do what we do, it's the way that we do. So we do what we do, why don't you let us do what we do?
We stir the pots and create food for humanity. We brew the thirst breakers of living souls. We blow through the pipelines of the world. We arouse mutual feelings we share with you.
When you do what you do, it's the way that you do. So you do what you do, why don't you let us do what we do?
You eat from the plates that bare wisdom. You drink from the glasses kings toast with. You take a breath of life and inspire a beating heart. You expose your mind to sweet harmonics of truth.
When I do what I do, it's the way that I do. So I do what I do, why can't you let us do what we do?
I am filled with expressions of passion. I am no longer yearning for the waters from springs. I have awoken the natural aura life provides. I possess the roar that sends a baby to sleep.
When it does what it does, it's the way that it does. So you do what you do and let it keep doing what it does, why can't you let nature be?

The Core Search

I am searching, searching for an invisable part me. A part of me that continues to live even after my body's derail. A part of me that is more valuable than the air that I breath. That part of me that is believed to be what defines me.
I am searching, searching for a intense part of me. A part of me that carries me with dignity. A part of me that is calm as the midnight breeze. That part of me that is as warm as the afternoon sun.
To the depth of the ocean it was thrown. Through a torrential wave it was exposed. Vacuumed by the lust of the earth's core. It continued to slip beyond my reach.
Fortified by flesh insurmountable to pain. A part of me that has become an internal callus. A part of me that can no longer cry. That part of me that has become torrid by torture.
I am searching, searching for a infallible part of me. A part of me I can trust at all times. A part of me more precious than gold. That part of me that you will never defeat.
Copyright (c) (2009) CLK PHAKEDI All rights reserved

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Love Game

We battle on this marked hardened clay.
Tense! Eager, ready to play
You wait like a virgin bride,
Bent anxious at the baseline.
Its you
And me
In the edgy silence between us,
You desire to break,
what I strive to hold.
You lead one set to love,
I trail with no intention to fault.

In a deep breath…
I make a firm grip
Bend a knee, and with a deep aerial spring
I put my all into this,
Smashing down
firm hard and hot
An unstoppable orb thrust
Freshly ground with masculine gusto
Raising the dust before you
You stretch and sigh-
Its too heavy.
and again.
I sigh with fulfilled exhaustion…
…Game over.

© I k Nakueira

To all those who love Tennis!

Monday, March 02, 2009


This ain't no Mills and Boon,
a fictitious little story in a book,
'Cause life
Is no fairytale
Full of sunshine
and flowers,
and happily-ever-afters

I am no pure princess
And your armour, my Knight,
Does not always shine
Your kisses,
Are not forever sweet
And often, I step out of line

Your manner, my Prince,
Is not all times charming
And I,
Am no beauty when sleeping

Sometimes we are sweet
Sometimes we are sour
Sometimes you push me over the edge

I cannot profess
To know anything about love
But this I know is true -
That gap between your teeth is art,
Your deep belly laugh is the sound of music,
And for my soul, your goodness is nourishment.

I know little about soul mates
But I do know, that you are my best mate
That, like the last piece
Of a jigsaw puzzle,
You complete me

This ain't no Hollywood
'Cause life isn't always like in the movies
This is a real life love story

- For Charles
©, N.L., 2009

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Smoky Mirrors

Laughter trills,
but an echo of sorrow deep.
A brilliant smile,
Beneath waves of despair.
Twinkling eyes,
flashes of saddness
The painted face the world sees

Is there but one,
to see past the colors?
Must I remain,
alone in the depth of my sorrow,
but laughter show?
will one see what is,
A face i paint for all.

Monday, February 16, 2009


Iam just an island lost at sea,
drifting away day, after day
With no one to hold,
to hold me
My tomb holds treasures deep,
To the heart of my soul.
Search for me,
so i can be whole again,
In paradise,
where the suns' kiss
warms my heart to life

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

The Proposal

Do you remember?
That night we first kissed
Soothing our aching lips,
With a love so undeniable
And for a while,
Time stood still, witnessing
The eternity of our love

Do you remember?
That night my dear,
When our hearts thawed
With a love, that burns,
Like a fire in moonlight
And the envy of the cold night
Couldn’t conquer,
Our tender warm embrace

Do you remember?
How like a child,
You lay on my chest
My loving hands held you
Keeping you ever close,
Till the early golden sunrays,
Walked on your gorgeous face,
And I woke in disbelief,
Of having spent a night
With an angel by my side.

If you do remember,
How beautiful a love
We shared,
Then my priceless princess,
Take this ring,
Do me the honor,
Of being my wife


© I K Nakueira

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Love, Lies and Rhyme

She had a face, meant to smile,
Her curves, draped in clothes of style.
He won her with his natural vibe,
But she wasn’t really into the poetic type.
He should have waited awhile,
But he fell like a hunted whale;
With a big heart and a big splash,
Shamelessly, spending his hard-earned cash
He ran broke,
Trying to make it work.
Trapped in the pursuit of a never-ending love,
Love that in the end,
Had to come to a poetic end.

He caught her lying, about her age,
Yet this did not ignite his rage.
He caught her lying about where she’d been,
But chose to ignore what he hadn’t seen.
Then, he caught her lying, under another man!
Another man!
Her legs parted by another dick, with a dick.
He snapped like a bloodthirsty tick,
His mind clogged with the smoke of fury,
He could barely hear her say sorry…

"You broke my heart! I break your heart!
I caught you lying! I’ll catch you dying!
This is my story. it has to rhyme
It has to rhyme"
He reached the drawer in no time
Let rage write her last verse
Click!....through her chest… click!
He relocated her to the past tense...
His mind no longer thick,
He caught her lying, in a pool of her blood
Knelt and held her as he would
Crying, sobbing, weeping in shame,
"It had to rhyme, …it had to rhyme…"

© I K Nakueira

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Political Defense

I was misquoted.
This is political persecution.
I have never taken a bribe.
I was misquoted.
This is political witch-hunt.
There are no missing funds.
I just borrowed the funds.
I was miscounted.
The bribe was not corruption.
I just borrowed the missing borrowed funds.
I borrowed the bribe.
This is political witch-hunt of borrowed funds
The corruption was misquoted.
Coruption!, What corruption?

© I K Nakueira

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Lantern Poetry Recital, Hats off.

If you weren't at the National theatre last evening (Friday 30th Jan) you trully missed a free treat to a new style in poetry recital. I feel so blessed to have been there, seeing young energetic Ugandan youth recite their own poems with a twist of expression and acting to the very best. I cant entirely describe this talent to somone who hasn't witnessed it but you beta know, it was trully captivating and echanting.
My best Poem of the day was 'Come'. I must say as a fellow poet, i was challenged by the talent on stage and i was inspired to write more, with a few borrowed styles ofcourse. The lantern Poetry Meet is bedazzling, and i can assure you these guys are good, they will become famous, no doubt, and when they do always remember, yall heard it here first! I'll be fishing for more in4 about the Lantern Meet n passing it on, so u and I can get familiar n won't miss their next events. Hats off guys! by the way am joining the group.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Obama's Inauguration, A slice of poetry.

History was made as the first African- american President of the United States of America took his oath. I was glued to the screen as i anxiously waited for the final moment, hoping that somehow this guy will survive an assasination and guess what?, he did! The best parts of the ceremony were undoubtedly the speeches that were all filled with poetry, imagery, and strong diction.

The recital of "Praise Song for The Day" by poet Elizabeth Alexander was one of the moments i was looking foward to, i must say the poem is beautiful but she didnt do it any justice by her recital as she put emphasis on each word which killed the rhyme and ultimately made the poem sound like a speech, it was even hard to know the poem had ended when she read the last line.

Yeah, Obama's speech was strong and inspirational but for me the speech of the day was Reverand Joseph Lowery's prayer that was filled with an unrivalled poetic flavor that got him a standing ovation at the end, i have watched this speech seven times now and i cant get enough. It was the speech of the day, period. May all those who concur say Amen, say Amen, and Amen.

I K Nakueira

Thursday, January 15, 2009

The Candle of Life

Mould in wax,
The wick is my heart
My breath lies in the flame.
For my duties I do not tax,
But the weak minded I may hurt
And remain not to blame.
Like man,
Time is no friend of mine
Every second, to my end, I burn.

© I K Nakueira

Friday, January 09, 2009

Wealth Of A Beggar

Sitting by the busy roadside,
Eyes shut in exhaustion
Drained by the sight of wealth
In moving vehicles,
Her frail feeble arms stroll open
Stretched for any pitiful penny.

Her breasts clutch onto her bony chest,
In irrevocable misery
Deep cracks of poverty
Embellish plight on her lips

By her side,
Plays the beggar baby, crawling
Smiling, unaware of the stench of sadness
Its emaciated mother gives off

A sudden shudder!
The sound of screeching brakes,…
Open her dulled eyes
A body sunk in young blood.
Death of the beggar baby,
Punctuates the beggar’s wealth.

© I K Nakueira

Sunday, January 04, 2009

African Reunion

Dear ma,
I have not let the tears,
Drown the smiles of past years
I cannot hold them back, so they roll
But they will not reside,
In the shadows on my face

Dear mama,
Seven months have made me older,
The night owl feels much colder
But it is only time that keeps us apart,
The thud of merciless boots,
Stills echoes,
Shuddering my sleepless nights

Dear mother,
There is no where else to hide.
The butchers will call soon,
Smudged soils shall soak in my blood
So soon,
I will be with you again mother,
So soon.

© I K Nakueira