Poetry from Swaziland part 6 (final poem)

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Gugu Mdluli

November 18, 2011 at 1:53pm

Shelling ears of mealies 
Long dried, far from their vast green 
motherfields. 

Ping-pinging kernel after kernel 
Into a red-petaled enamel basin. 

Absent fingers churn out 
Thought-images of hot weeks in December 
spent among trees and grasshoppers. 
Sing-song sashays through sibilant grass. 

Ticking and tocking memories 
Flicking them one after the other 
Into one waiting bowl. 

Time held in cobs and rows - 
A stuttering trance 
Of dusty barefoot days 
at my grandmother's. 

Guava trees wild, yellow-green 
Climbed, raided. 
The glorious return home with the biggest, juiciest, 
yellowest of the fruit. 

An isolated patch of cropped, cool grass 
from which we watched night fall - 
the leisurely sinking of the sun, beyond those dry hills. 
Then star-studded blackness. 

The long, wistful howling of mongrel dogs 
with forgotten names and old eyes 

Slow SiSwati stories. A candle 
burns until dawn. 
A mass of skimny limbs tangled - the owners picked off by sleep 
one by one. 

Tick, ping, tock, ping 
Shelling mealies.

Poetry from Swaziland part 5

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Gugu Mdluli

November 18, 2011 at 1:19pm

he sees nothing strange

in the undiluted warmth that -

when in my mind images dance

of his lollipop-delicious mouth -

traverses my vein-rivers red

and visits my sky blue summers.

awed but not unmanned

by my smiling brown stare

that -

in unbottled wonder -

says every day:

i adore you.

he is for me.

Poetry from Swaziland part 4

Tableau: driving past a parlour

Gugu Mdluli

August 2, 2011 at 3:27pm

In a staggering line, they walk

An Asian mob of about 8 men

Tightly knit

Arm-in-arm almost.

A tableau,

apart from the clamouring train of traffic

beyond the wall.

Grave, they walk.

Disarmed by

The little middle-aged woman

Newly barren

Among men.

She, her face a furious red

With the force of her bewildered

Tears. Worldless. She

Grips for life the hands nearest to hers.

The little band soldiers on

Wordless.

A crumbling mother and her 8-man buttress

Stagger to the line of waiting cars.

Poetry from Swaziland part 3

Talk to you (Lil' darlin) Talib Kweli & Bilal

Gugu Mdluli

April 26, 2011 at 2:25pm (typos original)

I want you, 'cause you make my heart skip the beat that it drum to

I want to be the one you run to, when pain confronts you

You're everything, sometimes I get nervous when I'm in front you

You can hear it in my voice when I ask you if you comfortabl

Look how love do, I'd practice the Art of War for you like Sun Tzu

Come through and arouse you every morning like the sun do

If you blackout and collapse I want to help you to come to

Notice I haven't yet gotten to what I want from you

I want you to come to when I come through and make you shine like the sun do

I want you to be the valley for my river to run through

You're everything, send your soul through your lips to my heart

Sweet music will start I want you to be the muse for my art

When people try to rip us apart we got to work to stay together

Go through the seasons of love and never change with the weather

This is my wish list, what I want not what I need there's a difference

These days I'm learning that words got power so I'ma be specific

Can I have a talk with you?

Can I make a dream come true?

Can I be in love with you?

'Cause I would if I could

Yeah sunflower

You must live in the infinite blackness that exists when I close my eyes

I see you when I fall asleep, I see you when I dream

Lil' darlin'

Set your soul on fire

Poetry from Swaziland part 2

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Gugu Mdluli

April 26, 2011 at 2:01pm

You came to me that night

something something the wind something something [i'm tipsy right now but i'll remember]

through the black leaves

of the tree outside my window

In the still moonlit darkness

When forever lives in a sliver of light

Still you come

Enfolded in the summer air