Charles Mwewa

Poetry by Charles Mwewa

love poetry

 

Along Chachacha Road


Do you recollect when we walked along Chachacha Road?
Oh, you were as innocent as a dove, as rare as purest gold
At the dawn of infancy of the change that ushered in “The Hour”
When we were frightened even by a riffraff’s version of power,
Those memories aside, it’s you, and only you, that mattered
Etched in my psyche are those four words that you uttered
And as time passes, you remain alive in my porsche soul
For true friendship never dies, all other things will surely go,
Along Chachacha Road, we bought some unfermented juice
On Chachacha Road, we munched deep-fried chicken & chips
Drive do I, along Hero’s and TransCanada Highways in America
Still, you shined classily in those dust-stricken by-ways of Africa
I won’t say that I have moved on, that will be an infidel’s carnage
A friend like you is like good wine, which is perfected with age.


Loved You Till Now


How can this love grip me so ephemerally, so eternally?

My soul ceased not to bleed, my heart swirls internally

O old lover, the rhythms of your youthful laughter

So endlessly leads me to incredible mental slaughter

I loved you once, in my heart forever you have a throne

I kissed you, O love, everlastingly you own my crown

You are tender, gentle and altogether unforgettable

Your sweet speech rings a tone so soft, so predictable

You’re unbelievable, lovely as a delicately played flute,

So lusciously felt in my tortured mind, O pretty fruit,

Our love knows no law, no weapon, no distance, no time,

Like two paths, we part not, O gorgeous, earthly prime! 


Undying Love


No threats of discovery, no rights nor privileges dared stop me

I loved you more than divine binds could restrict, more than my own life

You were the star that shown daily when I got up, when I was awake

You made me defy all law, all rules and all the eyes that stopped not to gaze

I sat you front in a bus, opposite all those who judge character

I was not offended nor did I mind the minds of those who criticize falsely

I took you to the First House, I could only do so with you, my love

I was uneducated, untested and overtly afraid of other voices

But when I thought of you, all defences fell down, you conquered me

I have never stopped loving you, though the heavens may fall

And the earth totally passes away to another life strain

O Love, my soul longs for you like a tendon cherishes the vein

I never stop to think daily, all night, how that I can survive without you

O my love, my everything, when I saw you walk past, your legs

When I heard my heart speak and utter those words, “I will always…”

Now I know I meant what I thought, I will always do, O love

I curse daily the childhood infantile thoughts, the fear of vultures

Now I know, in life or in death, I will have no other my heart to hold

Whether you are here, away or with another, you’re always mine

Though the heavens become our new home, with you I’ll be fine!


 

Like Two Paths


You and I met a long time ago like two ways
We built a relationship that lasts many years
Like two paths, our beginning is in other direction
Like two paths, we have tender, mutual affection
The outgrowths have gone, and also have come
The storms have raged and also become calm,
Yet, our hearts have grown softer and younger
Your memories are louder and now stronger
Because friends like you are hard to come by –
And friendships like ours shall never at all die.
That’s why now as ever before, you I cherish
Our dear love and trust will forever flourish
And though time shall end, know this once
My longing of you, will never lose an ounce!


  

Saying Sorry


You say, to say sorry is a sign of weakness

I say that, not saying sorry is wickedness

For those who freely forgive one another

Have also won back a sister and a brother

To be good friends for a hundred years

We’d have to bear each other in many ways

I admit, I will wrong you many times over

But I confess, I will always love you forever

Even when you don’t think that I mean it

My intention is to build, that is my spirit

For you and you, who I have done wrong to

I ask you now, forgive me, I love you, too!

more poetry

Slaves to a Language

 

Day in and day out, I speak a language

This is but a baggage

I sing songs that are foreign to my accent

I divulge meaning without mental accent

I cry in the anti-native mantra, O souls that be past

I retire my real me, quietly and fast

Who will teach me that I sound awful

That to love anti-native is to be unlawful

I try hard, I want to fit in

But cracks wreak havoc within

Alas, all my efforts are but vanishing meteors

I perform with my mouth, am but a theater

Why? I ask, Why do I try to be like them?

Why do I publicly entertain verbal shame?

When my other tongue with negligence I murder

My father’s language without infamy I shudder

When my mother tongue I trash to the bin

And not to remember my own etymology, isn’t it a sin?

O language, why did I choose to utter love in a hateful verse?

To follow after wind, isn’t it a vainful chase?

Why did I decide to explain truth through lying lips?

And to get rich through slavery tips?

Why did I pay my dues with untried currency?

And pronounce hard Western surnames with intimate fervency?

Bring me home, O descendants never exposed to English

For my efforts to be another palaver are but foolish

The songs of my motherland are sweet

Only because I can understand them without sweat

Whom can we blame?

Because we did not inherit this from them?

Who instructed Parliament to drown our many dialects?

And substitute them with what we will never elect?

Cry my lovely ebony countrymen,

For who has polluted our portent semen?

Shout louder upon your foreign acquired semantics

And hide not in White-washed antics…

Shame,

Shame, Oh spurious shame!

For only imitators perish in their own madness

Those who despise their history are but less

There is nothing authentic in borrowed fame

As no civilization has maturated without a name

I want to be free

I want to have ROOTS like a tree

From the accents that sound like a rotten egg

Their grammar we onerously beg

I want to say Muntu, not People!

I want to say Imfubu, not hippo!

In my own native accent

I sound better, freer and excellent

O, release me from an alien prison

To forget my language, is treason!


 

You. Kill. Me.


Like delicate, flamboyant red roses
Thou beameth with an aura of myriad bosses
Thy dove-flocked eyes good angels would pry
Thou inquireth how gazes follow thee, that’s why
In beauty as in tenderheartedness,
Thou art immortal, a goddess,
No wander thou art loved by many
And thy blemishes are perks, if any
Thou art desirable as hard-worked-for money,
Thy arms drip with lush brazen liquid honey
Sweet thy name is to pronounce
Soothing is thy presence to announce
In thy embrace, I die a thousand deaths
In thy gentle voice, I fathom many births
Oh, that on this dirt earth thy shadow glides
In flawed meadows thy step perfectly slides
Oh, I longeth daily for thy face to behold
Each of thy smiles, weigh in purified gold!
Call me to the bed of scented holy perfumes
Overwhelm me in thy deeply breath’d fumes
For mine love I’d gladly offer at thy altar
In stroking thy golden breasts, I’ll not falter
Duty it is mine to tread thy towered hips
Delightful to milk near thy sumptuous lips!


 

Lovely to Have


You can’t look at nature and fail to grin at beauty
You can’t gaze at peacock and fail to whisper, “Cutie”
The wild sceneries along the banks of the river, flower
The croaking frog, purring fishes in them, shower
There’s a memo in the sunrise, and a song when it sets
The moon makes the night glow, the starts its air it wets
You see the zebra graze in the shades, black and white
And hear the lion roar to tenors silhouetted gang fight
Listen to woman’s bottoms gyrating inside your head,
Have you pondered she dances to rhythms unheard?
God must have been deliberate, now consider the birds
Their morning melody, minds it wakens, resolves it girds
And these angels called children, O, how lovely to have
For a gift they are, God be thanked, pleasure He gave!


Wow Pleasure


 Oh Lord, real shepherd of my soul
To Thee and for Thee, I bring all
For it has been Thy good pleasure
Why Jesus Thy rarest treasure,
Thou sent Him, for my sins to die
O, watchful shepherd, Thou doesn’t lie
Thy good kindness, Thy kind goodness,
In these I find more, and not less.
Thou said, “Worry not, little flock,”
And then I looked, I was in shock.
Yes, it pleased Thee, my Holy God,
It was Thy honor, O dear Lord,
To give us Thy sacred Kingdom;
Praise be to Thy greater wisdom. 

NATURE poetry

  

Sonata to Role Play


Stop, ponder, take time, and imagine life as a large theatre

No matter the place or time of our birth, no-one is greater

We all come, play our role, and then exit for the next cast

Like clay, we’re molded for brief purpose, then dumped fast

In that fleeting tick of life, we may be assigned to any tasks

But all the same, we’re only dirt in florid but borrowed masks

The title does not make one more exalted than any apparel do

Neither height nor weight is any measure of permanent virtue

Blood, though noble, may sustain for as long as it’s called royal

Our prime may be an asset so far as to nature we stay loyal

The so-called great men among us are so-defined only legal

And death awards the same reward to all in spite of the regal

To Heaven, belongs our strength, benefit or luck, even heart

Anything we possess, we may well say, “We only play a part.”


  

Perspective Matters/

When Life Hangs in Balance


When you are suspended between heaven and earth

When you can see that you have but your last breath

You can see the end coming rather too quickly and sure

You can gaze at how options are becoming fewer and fewer

There’s the One who is here with you, who can view all sides

This One is also part of you, His presence always abides

You pray, “Now Lord, if I should perish, my soul receive,”

But you have no idea, you forget that all life He but gives

And in desperation, in this box, with only a nail hanging

And time is no longer with you, your heart keeps banging

And you will fall from the apex, you will dash your entrail

You will have no-one to rescue you, you’ll bid life farewell

If you should but try to move, the cage will move down

Oh, poor and wretched you, who will deliver you now?

Then, like a Wind, like a Living Spirit with no impediments

He stretches Himself from the height in multiple segments

He watches you struggle, He comes near to you and nods

You see Him standing in the universe, all things He knows

Your mind is still focused on the impossible, on danger

You fathom the end of your life the falling will engender

You think you are done; you are finished far as you see

All your plans to nothing they pale thin of all you can be

Oh, poor you, you only know and think within your box

You have a limited brain, a frail moment, you live a hoax

Then, He glides to your side, He whispers, “Turn the case”

He does it, and the shape now has a solid and firm base

The distance, relative to your position, is now shorter

The heavy weight of deep fear now lifts off your shoulder

You can clearly see your way out of this deadly malaise

You again see your dreams and plans before you ablaze

You can now jump on His back; He’s closer than you thought

You realize that He was there always, that’s your major fault

You know now, perspective matters, when life hangs in balance

You bow before the One who provides time and all the chance

And you repeat, “You’re able, O Lord, to do far more plentifully,

Even above, beyond, what I can think or imagine – eventfully!” 

You see, friends, it matters how you look at life’s challenges

Do you only believe in your resource that with time changes?

Or do you, heartily, put your trust in the One and True God,

Who is without time, fails not, whose grace never gets old?


 

Oh, My Lovie Dovie


Oh Lord, my Father, Your love is steadfast
Like a mountain, it stands and holds fast
You are immovable, yet flexible and loving
You're splendid in Your ways, always doving
You’re the one I love, object of my adoration
For all You’ve done, I’ll break in adulation
I am the first fan of Your wondrous creation
I will praise You alone during all my duration
Your garments are too pure for me to touch
But what You do for me, I will wisely watch
And I will remember to give thanks always,
For nothing I have I got by my own ways,
You, oh darling of my brief but satisfying life,
You gratify more than a good and capable wife
You bring the most glorious, unspeakable joy
More than the birth of an additional boy
With You alone, it is enough, I need no more
And I will honor You daily for these and all

war poetry

  

God's War Plan


God’s weapon is not like one of this world

Many times, God’s weapon is only a Word

It takes a general to command a war military

God only stationed a carpenter on Mt. Calvary

Rome raised a myriad army to conquer a world known

Jesus raised twelve amateurs to find a world unknown

To win foreign territories, a king sends in warriors

To defeat a satanic empire, Jesus sent out worriers

Goliath challenged God’s army with a mighty spear

But David defeated him without armory and fear

To prepare to conquer, a commander uses a battleship

To train His generals in combat, God uses sheep

To govern his nation, a leader must be accepted

But to save His people, Jesus Christ was rejected!

personal growth poetry

 The Stairs of Kabwata


I remember the many stairs leading up to fourth home
Here I prayed, we laughed and also, I saw you come
You were so angelic in all ways, you’re still an angel
It does not matter “others”, or a look from another angle
The Stairs of Kabwata, we were like little children playing
“We’re still little, playful children,” that’s what I am saying
The Stairs of Kabwata, in both our hearts, we know it well
Though long ago, down our hearts, its rhythms still dwell!

Life poetry

 Slaves to a Language


Day in and day out, I speak a language

This is but a baggage

I sing songs that are foreign to my accent

I divulge meaning without mental accent

I cry in the anti-native mantra, O souls that be past

I retire my real me, quietly and fast

Who will teach me that I sound awful

That to love anti-native is to be unlawful

I try hard, I want to fit in

But cracks wreak havoc within

Alas, all my efforts are but vanishing meteors

I perform with my mouth, am but a theater

Why? I ask, Why do I try to be like them?

Why do I publicly entertain verbal shame?

When my other tongue with negligence I murder

My father’s language without infamy I shudder

When my mother tongue I trash to the bin

And not to remember my own etymology, isn’t it a sin?

O language, why did I choose to utter love in a hateful verse?

To follow after wind, isn’t it a vainful chase?

Why did I decide to explain truth through lying lips?

And to get rich through slavery tips?

Why did I pay my dues with untried currency?

And pronounce hard Western surnames with intimate fervency?

Bring me home, O descendants never exposed to English

For my efforts to be another palaver are but foolish

The songs of my motherland are sweet

Only because I can understand them without sweat

Whom can we blame?

Because we did not inherit this from them?

Who instructed Parliament to drown our many dialects?

And substitute them with what we will never elect?

Cry my lovely ebony countrymen,

For who has polluted our portent semen?

Shout louder upon your foreign acquired semantics

And hide not in White-washed antics…

Shame,

Shame, Oh spurious shame!

For only imitators perish in their own madness

Those who despise their history are but less

There is nothing authentic in borrowed fame

As no civilization has maturated without a name

I want to be free

I want to have ROOTS like a tree

From the accents that sound like a rotten egg

Their grammar we onerously beg

I want to say Muntu, not People!

I want to say Imfubu, not hippo!

In my own native accent

I sound better, freer and excellent

O, release me from an alien prison

To forget my language, is treason!