The Wind Cries Lufanasi

The westerly wind came blowing in

From distant border lands and I begged

“Tell me swift whisperer

Have you heard from my beloved?

Have you blown cross the curve of her brow?

Have you tasted her lips of scarlet?

Tell me about her sweet fragrance

Of ocean lounge and tropical fruits

Bring that to my waiting nose.

Do you carry her free spirited air within your currents?

Have you brushed on her cheeks?

Come and press on mine.”

The wind cries Lufanasi

And blows away kissing leaves on its way

“Come back swift whisperer

Come back and tell me more”

The wind cries Lufanasi

“Chase not my currents

Your beloved is everywhere.”


The passion of quest.

Stop the train am leaving

I don’t want to get there yet

I’ll take the long road

I’ll preserve the yearning

I’ll savour every mile

And feed the longing

I’ll be a tumbling weed

Spat out by the ground

A slave to the wind

Kicked around by wayfarers

This passion of quest

Leaves scars to show

And their stories to tell

This passion of quest

Is the lifeblood of my being

So stop the train please

The destination stop scares me

What awaits beyond satisfaction

Stop the train am leaving

Let me live a little

Give me the longing.

Divine Correspondence.


You stare at the vastness of the sky

It is blue only for you

But across it the magnificent birds that fly

Might be the vultures that one day gouges out your eyes

Make you stare down to eternal darkness.


You are born of the earth

And by you the earth is reborn

You are a grain of sand in its beaches

A strand of hair in its flawless tresses

One more colour in its string of beads

Leaves falling from the same tree

Pilling up on one another

And slowly seething into the soil.


The purple robe of royal

Is sheep wool dyed in shellfish blood

And that old friend loyal

A lump of incense on the same alter

That one time or another

Our fragrant smell will rise to the sky

Like sculptor wax we are melted to different forms

Each existing only but briefly.


This beauty can’t stand isolated from nature

So let the earth squeeze out your grapy goodness

And serve humanity the finest wine

Harvest happiness like standing stalks of corn

Raise your sweet voice to the total eclipse

Sing and bring back the sun.


We shall dance.

We shall dance

In pomp and colour

On dust and grass

The sun shall silver the black of our bare backs

Our swaying heads adorned

With largest ostrich feathers

Our stomping feet with ankle bells

The drums will be our heartbeat

As we shake our feathered shoulders

The horns will blow us away

Africa will be thick in the air

As we break shackles of modernity

With a tremble that shakes the ground

setting bugs fleeing to their holes

calling on our ancestors and telling them

That we haven’t forgotten the moves of Ramogi.




Fort of lost souls

In the fort where souls came and went

There my desires found rest

And my soul longed for God

Like a rotting boat in rustling reed longs for the sea

In this fort of lost souls the entombed came to life

Dancing as their shrouds of linen were unwound

I abandoned wayward strengths of past life

And now I have calmness to live in such word

I take joy in the quiet of my tiny farmhouse

All past pride smashed in the rocks

And like chaff scattered in the wind


I have gone through this fort

And now shy leaves shrink from me no more

The swallow nests on my hair

The sun draws water from my skin

And pours it down as rain on the land

blades of grass cut through clay crust

At dawn to await the morning sun

In the jasmine valley where I run to

In the sweet fragrance where I meet God in secret

You ask me about the fort and I try to answer

But my tongue sticks on the roof of my mouth

So here I write what it did to me

And read it by my a million candles

For I couldn’t weep until I wrote this.


Never again.

Streaks of salt born of past tears

On faces that swear between deep sighs

That never again

Never again shall we ignore

The gentle drizzle that announces a storm

Push with violence on an open door

Never again shall we cut down

What was raised with our own sweat and blood

Never again shall we pour out

feeble drops of life collected to strength over ages.


But then the thread breaks

And then never dies

And again comes around as ever

Senseless death and destruction

Over the ambition of great men

And again forgets never.


What if we empty what is full of spite

And fill what is empty of love

Use our machetes to clear weeds of hate

And sow seeds of love

With this our hope is painted on the horizon

Then never shall reign forever

And again shall die of thirst

With no tears to drink on

And the god they killed in us shall come alive.