FOREWORD
poetry is part and parcel of Malawian culture and tradition. In dance, song and drama one encounters very rich and expressive poetry of indigenous nature. This volume of poems provides a rich array of poetry from diverse life themes relative to Malawian life experiences in particular but African culture in general.
The author would like to emphasize that these poems are not political in nature neither do they prejudice against persons. They do not make reference to any individual but are just a simulation of what reality entails at times. In fact these poems have been composed over a period of years.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The author would like to extend sincere appreciation and gratitude to the following individuals who have contributed their considerable time and effort toward the compilation and editorial cleaning up and arrangement of this volume. The following are the key contributors to the finalisation of the current volume:
- Mr Sambalikagwa Mvona of Malawi Writers Union (MAWU) for the technical review of the manuscript.
- Professor Rubadiri for providing technical direction and moral support.
- Brenda Chinguo for tying and arranging the poems.
- Emmanuel Ngwira and Damazio Mfune of
Chancellor College
GLOSSAY OF LOCAL WORDS
Chiterere: A Chewa girls’ tribal dance from central Malawi
Kwacha: The Malawian currency
Fisi: Chewa for Hyenas
Chitenje: A Malawian traditional drapery
TABLE OF contents
Page
Foreword…………………………………………………………………………………. i
Acknowledgements ………………………………………………………………….. ii
Glossary of local words……………………………………………………………… iii
Social Perception and Justice...…………………………………………… 1
Love and Romance ……………………………………………………………. 14
Suffering and Lamentation………………………………………………….. 27
Life experience and Culture..……………………………………………… 34
Politics …………………………………………………………………………… 41
Nature ……………………………………………………………………………… 47
SOCIAL PERCEPTION AND JUSTICE
POEMS : LIFE, OH, FUTILE LIFE!
IF I WERE
A SOLOMONIC VERSE FROM THE WARM HEART
WORDS OF WISDOM TO THE AFRICAN CHILD
THE ‘GOLDEN RIM’
WHAT IS CHRISTMAS
PRAYER FOR LOVE
THE POWER OF CRITICAL THOUGHT
*****************************************
LIFE, OH, FUTILE LIFE!
When the pleasures and anxieties of fleeting years
Melt in those dual streams of tears
And our pride in an ostensibly perennial stream
Vanishes instantly as in a sweet-sweet dream
Then do we discern, the ill cherished fruits of destiny
Are but malignant mandibles of disguised strife
When the once esteemed beam of light
Forevermore becomes a pall of eternal night
And abruptly all dreams drift from a dumbfounded mind
Then do we comprehend how like chasing the wind
The ill-conceived fruits of destiny are
How vainfull the bizarre palpitations of the heart
How empty
What vanity like a wink to part
Life, oh, futile life!
Marisen Mwale
IF I WERE
If I were a politician I would make a great president
Roar lion of ngala roar
If I were a villager I would make a great farmer
Roar lion of ngala roar
If I were a composer I would make a great musician
Roar lion of ngala roar
If I were a town-boy I would make a great dresser
Roar lion of ngala roar
If I were an intellectual I would make a great professor
Roar lion of ngala roar
If I were a prince I would make a great king
Roar lion of ngala roar
But since I was born and bred in modesty
I am glad to be
But a commoner
Than a vulgar be!
Marisen Mwale
A SOLOMONIC VERSE FROM THE WARM HEART
Son this our bonfire owes us but so short a lease, yet remember
This song of wisdom I bequeath is a treasure no canal being shall evermore bestow unto you-
Be careful therefore the pals you date
For the hue and colour of a true friend radiates during the winters of adversity
Foes will be there for you only to jubilate in the spring of merriment
But when calamity befalls you they rush to part
With no streak of remorse only to scorn you like they knew you not
Be careful what you say or do son-
For whatever you do unto others- good or bad
Always comes back to you sooner or later
Justice the sages proclaim renders unto every man his due
Be careful how you interact with folks
For when a brother or sister lets you down
Do not rush to exclaim that tit will go as for tat
As vengeance is not yours but for the One above to unleash
Remember we are all but brothers and sisters in this strife of existence-
Achebe once lamented, anger against a brother
Is felt in the flesh not in the bone
A kinsman in trouble has to be saved not blamed
Be careful how you monitor your desires
For whatever you have, plenteous or meagre- share with those who lack
Remember you may be privileged but dare not look down upon the poor and destitute
It is they, child, who hold the yardstick to raise you up or bring you down
Be careful your philosophy of life
For life is built on the sublime edifice of love
To love your neighbour as yourself is therefore no mere biblical aphorism-
So sing the song of love always, sing the song of justice always
Sing the song of tolerance always and sing the song of freedom always-
And surely the truth shalt evermore liberate you
Marisen Mwale
WORDS OF WISDOM TO THE AFRICAN CHILD
Son this is my advice to you-take it or leave it
But it will help shape your destiny
Son, when you are sick
Do you ever feel you need someone by your side
But nobody is there to share hospitality
Son, when you are hungry and need food
Do you ever feel you need a helping soul to offer a morsel
But no one is there to provide
Son, when you are broke and penniless
Do you ever feel you need someone to lend you even a penny
But there is no one to bail you out
Son, when you are lonely
Do you ever yearn for someone to lean on
But there is no loved one to offer a shoulder
Son, when you are bereaved
Do you ever yearn for someone to wipe your tears
But there is no one to console you
Well- never rush to blame
Rather- ask yourself-
Have I ever offered solace to the sick
When such hospitality they needed most
Have I ever offered food to a hungry soul
When somebody was on the verge of death from hunger
Have I ever extended a helping hand
When somebody needed alms even in the streets
Have I ever offered a shoulder for someone to cry on
When a loved one somebody needed most
Have I ever consoled a grieving soul
When there was nobody to offer condolence-
If not, know that’s the reason people shun you
When you need them most
If yes, know your father, who is in heaven sees all
To everything good you do unto others there shall really be a reward
Folks may never be there to appreciate sometime
Lead by example nevertheless and the love and mercies of God-
Shall guide thee the rest of thy life
Marisen Mwale
THE ‘GOLDEN RIM’
Move on child
A blooming and benign EI Dorado beckons
Beyond that rim where sweet honey rains
On lad
The golden era summons thee
Though filthy and narrow a path it may be
Infested with thorns that tear and spear
Mire deep and slithery
Cast not thy wits lad
For beyond that rim rains milk and honey
Weird a being though encounter
Owl stares that coax and implore
Beaks that harness flicking and wagging tongues
Cast not thy wits lad
For beyond that rim rains milk and honey
In wintry pall though you stagger
A sombre-gloom that engulfs and devours
Nipping and chilling an era
Cast not thy wits lad
For beyond that rim rains milk and honey
Marisen Mwale
WHAT IS CHRISTMAS?
What is Christmas
That is the question-
Is Christmas an era whence kwachas
Ought to be burnt with lavish impunity
Or the picturesque orgy whence seething boozers
And accomplice lasses ought to exhibit their insatiable lusts
With rhapsodic obscenities emanating forth
In strident tirades like nobody’s concern
Is Christmas a day whence sacrilegious ‘bashes’
Ought be thrown asunder
To expose but all touches of diablerie
Or the arena whence apish thugs ought rob and stab
Innocent souls but in abject cold-blood
Is Christmas a day we all ought to run berserk
And many a being call it quits to existence
But of road scams borne of smug negligence
Or a scenario whence luscious young gents and ladies
Ought to display their easy-chumminess
And romantic make beliefs of Romeos and Juliets
Culminating but in wanton and abhorable infections
Accepting still but this our fallible disposition
Isn’t this all the quintessence of all that is
But blatant-ignominy-aah- base affront
Tantamount to transform us but all reprobate
Isn’t this rating farce but the innocent day
Whence in an angelic mood we ought
But meditate upon all iniquity and calamity-
To repent and be born anew in eternal bliss
To embrace the neonate Messiah without blemish-
What is Christmas
That really remains the question!
Marisen Mwale
PRAYER FOR LOVE
Lord I pray
Pray for those true colours
The anointing this canal world
Hath but robed from thy wayward son
The gift and blessing of unconditional love-
Let that yet more fill my soul, body and mind
Father I can’t but forgive myself for these trespasses
Though you outrightly purport
Such is but a gracious overture
The more I meditate about this gift of love
The more I realize how far-
I have but strayed from your divine pathways
The holy book stipulates a myriad times
That love needs be patient
Yet I have always sought my own ways without respite
That love needs be kind
Yet I have been the most ruthless persona even to myself
That love needs not envy
Yet jealousy hath been my pavilion of refuge
That love needs not boast
Yet I have always been arrogant at all times
That love needs not be proud
Yet humility hath never been my byword
That love needs not be rude
Yet I have let down many would have been wise guardians
That love needs not be self-seeking
Yet I never have been contented with what I had
That love needs not be easily angered
Yet I have never been able to contain my tirades
That love needs not keep records of wrongs
Yet I have never been ready to pardon my neighbour
That love needs not delight in evil
Yet I have been the icon of moral decadency
That love needs always protect
Yet I have been there to betray
That love needs always trust
Yet I never had faith even in myself
That love needs always hope
Yet I have lost every ounce of endurance even in you Lord
That love needs always persevere
Yet I have had unbearable faintness even in meagre adversity
Lord I know not where I lost the battle
Yet my prayer- my principle-even in the first season of life
Hath been to be the torchbearer
That harbinger of this unconditional love-
The love you bequeathed unto us
By sacrificing your own begotten son-
Show me the way Father
And anoint me yet more
With your immutable blessing of unconditional love
And I shalt find peace and solace with myself
That is my prayer Heavenly God
As we thence as your children
Commemorate the death and resurrection of our Lord-
Jesus Christ
This Divine and Holy Easter-
Amen!
Marisen Mwale
THE POWER OF CRITICAL THOUGHT
Need we thence meditate upon critical thought
Reflect a while about the power of strategy
Thinking far-far ahead
Far-ahead of the relentless antagonists
Weighing the pros and cons of your every move
In the likeness of the chess-grandmaster
Considering every circumstance a ploy on the chess board
Always averting- always dodging being checkmated
Circumventing the odds of fate always
Dictating the direction of battle odds always
Unequivocally guiding fortune
In every endeavour partaken
Strategy
That is the power of critical thought
Marisen Mwale
LOVE AND ROMANCE
POEMS : LOST LOVE
THE POWER OF LOVE
HAPPY BIRTH DAY
TO MY LOVE A DEDICATION
IF LOVE WERE
SOMEONE LIKE THEE
OOH DESTINY!
A SONG FOR ARUNA
A VALENTINE VERSE
CUTE DAMSEL
THICKER THAN BLOOD
************************************************************
LOST LOVE
The once perennial spring runs dry
And all joy melts into hysterical lamentation
Once blossoming a rose droops
And aplomb degenerates into shear consternation
The promise of destiny like a limpid stream dispels
And all sublime a paradise scoops in limbo
Mouth agape
Tongue pasted to pellet
Eyes bulging
Two inferno brooks lining bizarre cheeks
In abysmal solitude I stray
Quivering
What a fate to decipher
Inevitable desolation
Such is but the ennui of a lost love
Marisen Mwale
THE POWER OF LOVE
As a fruit of instinct and not instruction
True love baulks not
Even in the face of hurdles myriad
Like a dream that has no ending
Love transcends trifle fantasy
Like a ware e’ermore to keep
The edifice of love pales not
Even in the wake of a deluge
Like a neonate e’emore trustful of its mum
Love is sublimely optimistic
Like a dove e’emore conscious of her dovelings
Love forfeits all and is not solicitous for her own pleasures
Like a rose e’emore perennial
The petal of love never fades
Love is e’emore credulous
Love is guileless
Love is selfless
Love is patient
You are the appellation of true love
Marisen Mwale
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Once out of sight then out of mind some have conceded
No more perceived, no longer cherished
They have contended
Yet how shalt my well-being prevail
Without savoring thy countenance
Since such postulation is alien fallacy in me
A second without thy glance is but a millionth epoch
For thy are a destitute’s panacea
That citadel of asylum for tender joy
How then shalt I but express my tender adorance to thee
For I miss you in the swish of ever blossoming lilies
I miss you in the ecstasy of the autumnal breeze
I miss you in the murmur of serpentine brooks
Replenished by the tender downpour of December
I miss you with every palpitation of my heart
Happy birthday!
Marisen Mwale
TO MY LOVE A DEDICATION
To thee my beloved
Shalt I but this epigram owe-
To whom shalt I match thee
For thou art but adorable and dear
Like a rose e’emore perennial
The petal of thy semblance
Hath drooped not
Like a ware e’emore to keep
The edifice of thy adorance
Hath but paled not
All else hath I but rendered transient
Yet thine perpetual yearning for thee-
No diminution nor decline
Hath but yet fathomed
Dear- though hath but made me cherish
True love is but axiomatically transcendent
Sublimely optimistic, guileless, selfless, patient
That true love balks not-
Nay
Even in the face of hurdles myriad
That true love is but the cute antithesis
Of the relentless ironical eel
Slipping but from the destitute fisherman’s grip
That by chance art beings made siblings
Yet betwixt two strangers in quandary
Hath but by instinct love evolved
Marisen Mwale
IF LOVE WERE
FOR LACE
If love were a flower
I did let it blossom eternally all for you
If love were a dream
I did dream it all for ever for you
If love were a race
I did run it for nothing less than gold all for you
If love were a treasure
I did search it the whole universe all for you
If love were a precious pearl
I did dive for it the deepest oceans all for you
If love were a song
I did sing it till my voice ran sour all for you
If love were a dance
I did dance it till my legs fell lame all for you
If love were a throne
I did settle for nothing less than kingship all for you
But alas love is just a mystery.
Marisen Mwale
SOMEONE LIKE THEE
Fumbled and groped
In the somnolence of all abodes
Soared, hovered and flapped
In ethereal highs mama nature bestowed
Fluttered and searched
In the intricate maze of blossoming summer lilies
For a being of thy resemblance
But what an endeavour breeding but vain
Whence shalt I perceive tenderness and adulation sublime
Discern friendliness and acceptance superb
Decipher nobleness and tolerance redound
Infantile beauty brimming as in ever cascading falls
That rose enduring the sweltering Octobean inferno
Whence shalt I savour thy soothing voice yet more
That reminisces the tender chirrup of jolly honey-birds
Groping, soaring and fluttering but to no avail
‘Destiny’
Never shalt I decipher someone of thy semblance!
Marisen Mwale
OOOH DESTINY!
In the weeping deluge storms
The swish of pale-green leaves in howling winds
Stalks that tender yearning-
A bareness that melts the heart
As the spell-visage haunts
For forfeited hath destiny all sublime a character
How like the nip of winter
Hath the forlorn cleavage been
Once trussed a bond now an ennous ebb-
What smug melancholy to wallow in
Ne’ermore to cherish olden passions
For forfeited hath destiny all sublime a character
In blossoming brooms as honey-birds chirrup
Those soothing lyrics breeding a recipe for solace
Echo in my eardrum that delicate sweet voice
Once savoured but shalt ne’ermore
Yet in its morn that craving thrives
For forfeited hath destiny all sublime a character
Marisen Mwale
A SONG FOR ARUNA
If only, if only you were mine Aruna-
Those two sparkling and caring eyes,
Like rare precious gems ever heralded
Pierce into me as though searching
Those full lips
Redolent with promises of wild passion
Perch on that ever blossoming countenance of yours
The torso
So sinister as of the world’s greatest supermodel
Desperate for that lasting loving
The breasts
Two fully-blown water melons linger on your chest
As though beckoning for that tender fondling
If only you were mine Aruna
How dear and charming you are my fairy-lady
Your tender voice like a soothing romantic melody
Resonates in my ever yearning eardrums
Reminding me yet more of my desolate and miserable nights
If you really were mine Aruna
If only I knew back then, that you were but a superwoman
If only I forgot, only accepted
That you are now another man’s possession
I would find peace with myself
Oh poor me, poor-poor Maestro-
The more I try to forfeit you, the more I deny
The thongs of that abject reality
That you surely can’t be mine
Unshackle me Aruna, unshackle Maestro
From this forlorn craving for……
Marisen Mwale
A VALENTINE VERSE
This valentine sonnet I owe but no other woman
For in all rectitude no other- this forlorn longing mollify can
Words alone can’t paint the depth of this my passion
For I have loved no other lady in such a fashion
Don’t e’er let me fathom or entertain
My heart’s yearnings are but in mere vain
Don’t let this craving enthral some ardent ovation
As is sing-song in sheer infatuation
Sages have but always sang- love is just but blind
But your sublime demeanour fades not in my numb mind
There is a season in life for love
And there is an era in life for your worthy to prove
But when to hunt- hunt and hunt you no longer could afford
Its time one but a valentine surprise deserved
Marisen Mwale
CUTE DAMSEL
You stroll along the winding path toward the brimming pond
Calabash dangling unsupported atop your head
Some obscene chiterere chorus stridently emanating
Hearty- from your potty mouth
As recollections of yesternight’s ordeals
Of ruthless aroused fisis
That longed to no avail break into your habitat
To plough the ever fertile untapped gardens
Thoughts that still linger to awaken some amorous hankering
Bringing you closer the verge of laughter
And exposing your deep-deeper twin dimples-
Cute damsel
Did you know these make you our revered beauty
Across plains and valleys
Stretching from Nkoma to Dowa
Yet ironically you fathom not
You are everybody else’s dream queen
Marisen Mwale
THICKER THAN BLOOD
FOR LACE
They have ardently lamented
That this our love is but mysterious-
Querying my people and your people alike
They contend love was the best thing
The best thing to ever happen to you and I
The best thing indeed humanity ever fathomed
Claim do they our love supersedes
Even the Shakespearean classic of Romeo and Juliet
Even the fictional anecdote of Bourne and Marie
Is even more comical
Than the Zimbabwean romance of Solomon and Mutsai
Yet I berg to differ and agree at the same time
For my perception of this our union
Is even more than transcendental
Even the adage union of opposites
Befits not such description
For there was more to the gap between you and I
Than can meet the eye
There was more to this divide than ethnicity
More to it than status, race or even creed
In the orient maybe it could befit
The abyss between yin and yen
More than between darkness and light
More than between affluence and depravity
More than between evil and good
Greater than the nemesis of all difference
Life and death
I am short of words
To depict the potency love had
To bridge this antithesis in you and I
This our love transcends all boundaries
How I wish it could be a lesson for humanity
That love transcends all-
Religion, race, ethnicity, status, creed, colour
That love is thicker than blood
Marisen Mwale
SUFFERING AND LAMENTATION
POEMS : ORDEALS ORDAINED FROM THE CRADLE
THE ORPHAN’S PLIGHT
A LETTER TO A SON
NOT THE END OF THE ROAD
SEASON OF SORROW
*****************************************
ORDEALS ORDAINED FROM THE CRADLE
Those first shrill of a protracted yelp
Apparently heralding that imbroglio of impending doom
Attracted only some bogus botch of an ululation
Nothing lingered on to depict some precious pearl from the almighty
No thrill nor exhilaration, none of the panoply-
Neither shawl nor booty, napkins nor pants
But for a threadbare tatter
Hacked frantically from some exhausted chitenje
Distraught and naïve was that figure styled mum
Wearing an apprehensive countenance always
An alibi maybe
To allay that appalling anecdote
Of some libertine that spoilt her and absconded-
Why from her welter of sonorous Chewa lexis
She plunged for the apocalyptic label- MAVUTO-
I since ceased to ponder and brood
For mine has always been a medley of ostracism and scorn
But if that first glimpse of a blue-ethereal-sky
Stirred some streak of hope in little me
Then, as infernal spells of scotching heat and nipping cold recurred
Evil winds spiralling restlessly toward receding horizons-haunted
Those infallibly ominous harbingers of dreadful fate festered
Rekindle indeed the pall of despondency- they did
By and by as existence to discern I begun
Cherish I did some profound conviction-
An impending freak of respite was at hand
Yet the more I did, the more the scathing rebuffs mounted
Craving as they did in sadistic glee
To decipher their augurs unfold
And thence from base dust whence I sprung
I descend-indeed- destitute and dejected as they pleased
For those were ordeals ordained from the cradle
Marisen Mwale
THE ORPHAN’S PLIGHT
The fond welcome into this alien farce of a world
By an ostensibly eternal parental-bond was enough to herald
My destiny would apparently be streaked with pleasure
Yet as existence begun to unfold her bizarre measure
Then did I discern my destiny would be but a nightmare
First it was mum who fell prey to death’s forlorn snare
Then dad could not help it but succumb to the sombre fate
With little me being left but in a destitute state
Though the parental-folk seemed apparently stricken with grief-
Decipher I did that glad they were to their poverty relief
Forsake me to the street but fathom yee
A child in need
Is everyone’s child indeed
Marisen Mwale
A LETTER TO A SON
It’s way back since neither of us wrote each other son
I just hope that this missive finds you at that old address
By the way how are you faring as of now
Let’s optimistically hope all is so well
Here, old age is creeping upon your mom and I
We can hardly see, walk or work in the gardens
As all your sisters are now teetering in matrimony
We have to fend for ourselves-
You know how tough it is for an old couple like us
All the cattle herds were stolen, and we sold all the goats
Save for that black nanny
Do you still remember her
The fields are exhausted
And these days we only harvest but a few baskets of corn
You know how it is without the so-called fertilizer
We need no money son but it’s for the ancestors
That we summon you home
You are really tempting providence
Don’t you know- discretion is the better part of valour
Do you hold out hope of succeeding
Without the charm and blessing of the forefathers
You shall find it heavy going lad
For the spirits need an offering
Son the sages say old traditions die-hard-
The family tree must not be hacked down
Come back
For the spirits are but thirsty
Marisen Mwale
NOT END OF THE ROAD
Though destiny has been so cruel
Hapless and obscene a fate to bask
No solace to shatter and dispel this gloom
Learnt I have to take heart and despair not,
For fathom do I
That’s not the end of the road
Perceive though I do
By and by little strokes fell great oaks
Endure I do for hot tears were meant for man alive
To unmask the careworn mien
To free from the winters of grief
For that’s not the end of the road
Many a being have swarm
In this mire-arena of ill-times
Yet a broken heart burdens them not
Learnt they have to take heart and despair not
For fathom do they
That’s not the end of the road
Marisen Mwale
SEASON OF SORROW
Let’s squat around this bonfire swallowing but our pride
Let’s sing-sing a song ne’er ending casting our sorrows aside
We’re but all a breed of a sublime pedigree
Though we slumber not in the divine den of modesty
We’re all slaves in a diabolic web entrapped
An open book even our godfather’s day has remained
Need we therefore shun our olden prude
Relinquishing our age-old wise all in solitude
Young Africa- bury your hatchet and discard your rage
Old guards are no sheer burden but lighters for an age
There was a time- a time when we sought no reason
For the erratic pangs of our sorrow season
Wonder you not Africa for thy morn generations
Have but salvaged themselves not from vile pestilences
Marisen Mwale
LIFE EXPERIENCE AND CULTURE
POEMS : LIMBO OF EXISTENCE
HIDDEN SHADOWS OF EXISTENCE
WHAT IS CULTURE
MAMA
MANGANJE
ACOLYTES OF THE MALIGNANT DRAGON
SUCH IS THE PASSAGE OF TIME
*************************************************
LIMBO OF EXISTENCE
By and by as the dual seasons flow
Bolder and older I grow
When morrow’s morn I shalt wake
One more day my life page will take
But does glory and splendour loll in these tender strays
For twixt the sweet-bitter limbo the journey lurks always
Yet yesterday when the rainbow cast her hue
Did the gem render the elders’ fabulous lament true
That precious memories of yesterday
Can be joyous moments of today
Or should I in the bleak converse conviction dwell
That not everything that glitters is but a jewel
Marisen Mwale
HIDDEN SHADOWS OF EXISTENCE
Twixt futility and eternity
Twixt lingering limbos in antithesis
Self-effacing and self-assertiveness
Profanity and holiness
Vile and nobility
Surreptitious legacies of belligerence and serenity
Ebullient pangs of avarice and modesty
Twixt the inevitable vicissitudes of life and death
Two titanic embodiments in quandary
Loll the hidden shadows of existence
Marisen Mwale
WHAT IS CULTURE
What is culture------that is the question
Is culture that streak of folklore
That many have eschewed
Or the ever-fertile norm by whom all used to abide
Yah, even the most recalcitrant of society
What is culture----that is the question
What is culture
Is culture the panoply of anecdotes our teacher parrots
Or the gule-rhthym our religious preacher against preaches
Is culture the odd lexis-array whence many attain a name
Or the esteemed traditional drapery many do shame-
What is culture---that is the question
What is culture
Is culture upholding the heritage bygone
The family tree modernity threatens to hack down
The ancestral-root the grey heads hope sustain in vain
Or fond reveries of our past we hope dispel
What is culture---that remains the question
Marisen Mwale
MAMA
A Lullaby to an African Mother
Mama, how may I applaud you
For thy charity unwavering that’s been ever aglow
Days gone and days coming fourth adulation ever sublime
A rose blooming forth till the ends of time
Mama, from whence shalt I but commence lyrics of praise
For thy love hath been unconditional through all days
If my infancy epoch I should recall
A time of needs infinite in all
On thy gentle lap I would be sunk
And from thy tender breasts my well-being suck
As on thy untiring back draped I would be
Oh mama, how grateful I should be
For fountains of love as though drawn asea
Deeper than any other being shalt e’emore see
Marisen Mwale
MANGANJE
Let our bare feet thence inflict tattoos
On this bare belly of mother Africa
Let our muscles twinge
The springy waist wriggle
The spine jerk
As we jig and caper in courtesy
To the fabulous din of the African drums
Let the strident splutter of ovation
That melody of ululation
Rock us yet the more maniacal
As the echoing of the African drum
Dispels these our languorous vagaries.
Marisen Mwale
ACOLYTES OF THE MALIGNANT DRAGON
They lurk
Yes they really do
Everywhere
Streets and Avenues
Offices and Taverns
Citadels and Hotels
Yes they really do
Adorned all in all opulence,
Beckoning behinds wriggling
As on enticing chests
Loose melons loll
While their eye’s corner they wink
Craving to ambush that next sitting duck
Yet behind the sinister scenes
Skin deep
More than can meet the eye lingers
Forewarned is forearmed
Beware
Of these acolytes of the dragon
Everywhere
They really lurk
Marisen Mwale
SUCH IS THE PASSAGE OF TIME
Inspired by Charles Mungoshi’s ‘Ndiko kupindana kwemazuva’
As seasons of times alternate
So do the pages of a life
Summer paves way for winter
As joy is punctuated with pangs of sorrow
In full blossom four are the seasons of times
And such also are the markers of a life
As the trust and dependency of childhood
Is overshadowed by the hope and dread of adolescence
And the stability of adulthood
Is consolidated in old age tranquillity
In consonance summer breeds winter
And autumn becomes harbinger to spring
When sometime you tear a while
Know morrow’s morn jubilation will thee avail
For such is the passage of time
Marisen Mwale
POLITICS
POEMS : AFRICA UNITE
ASTOUNDED!
WE SHALL EVERMORE MOURN
WHAT DO YOU DO?
*****************************************
Let unity and peace bloom to an acme of perfection
Let not ethnic diversity ruin your solidarity
For the sages say in opposites we find unison
Let not arbitrary governance shroud your oneness
For whether one be Shona or Ndebele
One is but Zimbabwean
Chewa, Tumbuka, Yao
One is but Malawian
Kikuyu, Luo or Masai
One is but Kenyan
Hutu or Tutsi one is Rwandese
Rwandese, Kenyan, Malawian, Zimbabwean
Are all but African
Race is deeper than culture so they say
Thus my brethren I beseech thee
To contemplate the Sudanese scenario
Probe the Somalis saga
Dread the Rwandese genocide
All we need is but to fathom
That cultural prejudice like slavery
Is but an affront to human dignity
Marisen Mwale
ASTOUNDED!
Though thy to and fro tirades buffet us asunder
In decorum and reverence the loyalty icon we hoist
In word and spirit, action and deed
An aura of dogma verging on venal appeasement
With aplomb
Haven’t we wallowed in abysmal backwaters
But for unavailed plights
What a chronic melancholy bred
By a farce of a bogus release
But yet yesterday a bickering
Despondency shalt melt like a pail of snow
In the sweltering inferno of tropical Africa
Whence shall the long yearned for panacea come to pass
For as months yield years
Haven’t we but been rendered puppets
Our failing hope dwindles in fountains of hot-bitter tears
Yet why veil yourselves behind scapegoats unfounded
Astounded!
Marisen Mwale
WE SHALL EVERMORE MOURN
We shall evermore mourn for our beloved Ngwazi
Father and founder of the Malawi
On our confounded and destitute hearts
The four epigraphic incisions shall evermore linger
Unity, loyalty, obedience and discipline
The overarching pillars whence Malawi
For in reminiscence of Benedictine doctrines
Achievement above mere opulence the Ngwazi cherished
Eschewing disunity, conflict and dissension
Tears shalt indeed stream evermore down our aggrieved cheeks
For the splendid academic aura Kamuzu bestowed
The seeds of liberty sowed
Yet as we quiver in the winters of grief
Never shalt we lose sight of
The legacy the Ngwazi bequeathed unto us
Surely his soul should forever rest in peaceful bliss
Marisen Mwale
WHAT DO YOU DO?
What do you do
If like a fly in an intricate spider’s web
You got entrapped in an arena of abject decadency
Where jealousy like a wildfire raged with impunity
Where animosity like a park of insatiable bugs
Crawled mercilessly all over your naked torso
Where instead of uplifting and alming selves
Destitute folks prowled one another
As in bizarre tag of war feats of pull-yee-thee down
Where ethnic dissension was espoused and hankered for
Like the vile olden deities of Greek mythology
Where brotherly oneness long-forgotten
Was like a virtue bygone and only superseded by abhorable plagues
What do you do
If like a fugitive you were exiled and ironically left
With nowhere to run but in your own motherland
Where like crimson fountains, hot-bitter tears cascaded
Down your forlorn cheeks each passing day and night
Where friends and foes alike jubilate in sadistic glee
In diabolic anticipation of your impending doom
Tell me pal-
What do you do
Marisen Mwale
Need we lament for this Paradise lost
Or wait- wait still for those signs to manifest
They say the philosophy of a people
Is imprinted and yet embedded in their mentalities
The song, the dance, the belief- Culture
Is but a mirror of a people’s decency
If envy, jealousy, hatred, greed were sing-song
Superstition, sorcery, magic were replete
Needn’t art reflect such decadency
Not only for my people but even to I
For am I not of the same pedigree
I know not-
What went wrong in the first analysis
So I could glide such predicament
Know not why sometimes I happen to be happy
Know not why I even am in strife and pain
Yet my conviction not to recant abides
This faith I will keep even to finality
And how I wish we were a people
A people who hoped to the end
For never would we wail for this Paradise lost
Marisen Mwale
NATURE
POEMS : THE SEASONAL LEGACY
INEVITABLE HORIZON
WHIRLWIND
IN THE HEART OF ZOLOZOLO
WELCOME SUMMER
NIGHT IN THE FULL MOON
*****************************************
THE SEASONAL LEGACY
When crow-swarms soar and hover in the ethereal skies
Above beige grasses and bare boughs
That sway and gyrate to the weird tune
Of winds like babies awakening from deep slumber
And the last yellow leaves are whirled away
By that nipping and chilling escapade
When the golden eye of heaven is occasionally enshrouded,
And abed beings loll longer than ever
Decipher then, that olden winter is nigh
Uncherished, yet for an era so long
The emblem of abysmal cheerlessness
When swallows merrily chirrup those sweet hymns
In blooming shrubs where late hopelessness reigned
A green delicacy so charming and dear
And the tang of wet soils wafts-
Warm and perfectly soothing an era
When evermore the golden eye of heaven smiles
And for longer than ever beings rove
Know then that the beloved one is back
But for the lease so short
Old summer
The emblem of amicable joy
Marisen Mwale
INEVITABLE HORIZON
Welcome inevitable horizon
For each and every step I throw
Closer to the inevitable horizon
Draw me forth
Each and every wine tumbler
Into my thirsty belly I drain
Translocates me deeper and deeper
Down the inevitable cage of laughter
Life, how wonderful you are
Life, how precious you are
Yet aren’t you that vainfull emblem
Terminating but the tender day
Of Romeo and Juliet
Goodbye inevitable horizon
Marisen Mwale
WHIRLWIND
Straying malignantly towards receding horizons
Whooping, hooting, and howling in rage
Tearing the hamlets’ grass thatch asunder
Scoring mud walls as kids in helter-skelter stampede
To and fro dry foliage, husks and tatters scamper
In sinuous spirals and imbecilic gyrations
But for the toothless old granny blown aloft
In that conspicuous winnowing basket
Whirlwind!
You are a smug enigma.
Marisen Mwale
IN THE HEART OF ZOLOZOLO
In the fringes of Mzuzu I once camped
Deep in the heart of Zolozolo
Where like blood bonds strangers reside
Waddle as you do, down the sinuating lanes
You are but greeted by the somnolent dine
Of local Malawian vibes emanating forth from exquisite sound boxes
Yet little do you wonder why such a fuzzy crescendo everywhere
For eminently into your nostrils wafts
In reminisce of drooping sour lilies
The prickling and pungent scent of Mkonto-
The local brew native but to Zolozolo
And like possessed acolytes in a sacrilegious orgy
You are dumfounded by super-intoxicated lads staggering aimlessly
Gibbering nonsensical syllables as though possessed
After having had their revered share of a sip-
Its irony to herald nonetheless, they exchange no blows
As is songbook in these other luxurious joints
Where the angel’s water is less virulent and bitter
Ask me about my recollection of Mzuzu one day
Surely that alone stands out
Like an alien hieroglyphic perched against the wall
Marisen Mwale
WELCOME SUMMER
Welcome summer
Era sneezing that spell of respite
Upon ravenous but indigent mama nature’s back
A luscious camouflage but dispelling
The sombre-beige-gloom of the wintry lull
Lately bare-boughs drape the pale-green cloak
Studded with pink, scarlet, white and red adornments
Depicting nothing less than ineffable splendour
Once drowsy and somnolent brooks
Howl like babies roused from deep slumber
Bleats and lows of absurd exultance
Emanate forth from the obese bull and lecherous billy
As migrant sparrows in helter-skelter renovate dilapidated nests
Bidding farewell to the ennous times
Here and there ecstatic hordes of farm-hands
Herald the dreaded but hankered for exodus
Of mama nature’s own beloved acolyte-
But for the deceptive errand ere long to part
Welcome summer!
Marisen Mwale
NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON
On a silvery canopy
Studded with twinkling and glittering germs
Prowls a silvery plate
Upon plains and valleys silvery rays are cast
Depicting nothing else but night of the full moon
Shrill is the chirping of crickets
Weird is the croaking of dam frogs
Chilling is the hooting of the black owl
As a howl of glee emanates forth from the hyena
All but depicting this night of the full moon
Yonder, the drum-din ascends to a crescendo
As village stars jig and caper in ecstasy
Yet wizards croon their crammed talismans
Ready for that craved midnight errand
All but depicting this night of the full moon
Marisen Mwale
You loom resiliently in Central Malawi
Adorned in the conspicuous opulence of mama nature’s camouflage
Gigantic yet exotic pinus and eucalyptus
Punctuated by beige mopane grasses and scrub
Swaying and gyrating to the weird tune
Of rowdy native breezes
Like possessed acolytes in an orgy of ecstasy
How elegant you are Mount Dedza
From thee replete springs cascade
To evermore bath mama Malawi
To replenish perennially insatiable brooks
How bizarre your panoply of wildlife-
Orchids draped in ever smiling lilies
Studded in pink, scarlet, white and red adornments
Epiphytes relentlessly clinging to giant slabs
Depicting nothing less than ineffable splendour
How superb the milliard species of wild fauna
Whose cherished habitats you bestow
Absurd monkeys that bark and bleat
In unison to apparent trespassers-
Butterflies that flutter and settle in magnificent roses evermore jolly
Mount Dedza, how wonderful you are
Marisen Mwale
Cover photograph and design by: Walusungu Msowoya of Mzuzu University
About the Authors: Marisen Mwale is a Lecturer in Psychology at Mzuzu University
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