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.

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.

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