She Smiles

Ok, this is awkward…

I used to love our vibe and how we would connect so intimate, relate the physical approaches to a spiritual resonance,

Take a deep breath like underwater sentiments, I would swim deep too kissing your secondary lips with a tongues technique,

Tasting your Pureness with a touch of pure intent,

We had a spark that would ignite fires A dance choreographed only beneath bed covers,

Under the skies as the angels blushed,

Stars aligned to showcase our chosen path,

A forbidden art from ancient of times, we practiced love in one act,

Defining unity without a sense of seperatedness… No glove!

It’s true, I, once a fool never knew the true meaning of such moments,

Carried past the waves of emotions,

Thinking the heart had spoken ignoring the minds wisdom,

Fingertips, skin soft as I caressed it,

Our lips locked and we broke the chains of societal settings,

Lost in you, a goddess, I king placed my lips on your canvas,

Painting classics as my paint brush delivers poetic strokes… Magic… So creative.

A masterpiece in the making as I created,

A composition of genius as you delivered, note by note, entrancing, captivating, beyond the physical senses I found us elevating into a meditation,

At times I step back and retrace the footing of where I used to step at and find we moved in unison and I could never recapture that,

It’s silly now it seems, it’s obvious as life’s spontaneous like movements never choreographed,

I, lost amidst my memories and constructs, from heartbreaks that reveal my hidden monsters,

They revealed the missing dance steps, and my sweet ballet ended so tragic…

Common as sense is, #Love was challenged and you chose to surrender your senses to ideals not direct,

Alone I try to recall the melodies, I try to analyse the prospects… Only to end at nothingness…

The future seems hopeless, faith constructs lost and I too felt lifeless,

Weakened by own heart, left seeking that I cannot find, without reason yet with a great mind… I felt lifeless

…. But then, I saw an image, a memory of what was as a lost thought was caught in transit,

I once fell in love with a goddess and at one time she smiled at our madness,

Just Once:- she one time smiled at our madness… And that, that is all my dying heart needed-

She smiled… Then we lost it… So tragic.

By Samson Mandhla Moyo, a Student at the University of Livingstonia, Malawi. Check out his blog for more exciting reads 

Naked Parables

Good evening blessed earth,

I stand naked though dressed in your radiance,

In your presence, I, lost in moments present,

I find your curves haunting,

My words are wanting they lack proper content to express this, to express you, goddess before my iris,

I used to commune in thought patterns, born psychic with an intellect beyond what genius thinks, addicted to meditative habits,

Sophia’ first born, I was blessed with esoteric and ancient knowledge,

I spoke with Solomon on Masonic precepts, he wrote his songs as I recited poems for my princess to a court full of queens from all traditions,

We burnt incense and sat with the transcended, they spoke of your pureness, you, the vessel of gods children,

I traced my thoughts back to my hearts intents, I found a void within with traces  of your scent trapped in that emptyness,

I searched my surroundings but Gaias environments left no record of your creation,

In truth, my souls presence felt connected to your essence,

Your spirit hidden past the ages, so ageless, a beautiful infinity with the creators graces, my sweet Isis,

A creator in all sense, Love personified in curves,

I have stood on this stage and memorised men’s many plays, my mental state socialised all doctrine,


Tired and broken I sat on Mount Zion and watched civilization as I dulled my human found emotions,

A craving for the unknown, I found pain in my wanting, searching, from caves to lunar stone paintings,

I watched Venus past Mars as the stars aligned, her falling light caught my Eye by surprise, at blind sight I found your hideout beneath the night skies,

I nearly cried out but my Joy was already too loud,

I learnt your paths fast like these arts patiently learnt while pacing most Lives in their last tracks,

Then, as the morning fog cleansed my Dusty eyes…

I saw you,


Felt like I’ve always known you, always loved you as I remained loyal and true, like royalty do – you saw my crown and smiled, that’s when I smiled too…

We found our eyes meeting,

Conversating on how long we’ve been waiting, how long should we wait still and why do you remain hidden?

Why is our union forbidden?

What is this we keep feeling? I mean, look at me lost Love: you’ll find my spirit as I in you find my meaning,

We left without leaving, floated past all that is thought living,

We embraced the cosmos teaching of our humble beginings,

Lost in ideals that defy reason, how did we find meaning in such a connection,?

Logic lacks in philosophy- We live faith constructs,

We Defy gravity as we undress sailing on a slow wind as it blows,

What beauty is this? Beyond the iris as you capture my every intimate thought patterns,..

God I want this,

As you appropriately respond to this, moan sounds that awake the sleeping heavens, these intimate trumpet sounds to awake the sleeping conscious,

‘Make an angel blush’ sentiments, and we haven’t even touched yet,

I stand lost in your iris trying to break eye contact, hypnotic, I see us beyond all that is, beyond all this and all that has been- I just want to hold this… moment,

A distant noise erupts the silence into chaos, I stand and meet you half of the hallway,

We walk in silence, you bite your lips to my shy advances,

Flirt with your breath patterns as your heartbeat sweetly beats a rhythm so tantric,

So abstract, the colours of your radiance so vibrant, it has to be magic,

I caught my first flight and we found us only in each other’s presence,

Alone amidst them, daughters and sons of a fallen creation, we engage in creative rituals,

I find my brushes touch on your canvas so colourful, so fine this art we create, priceless engagement in this lesson of hearts and this flesh’ functions, with these minds- Our Souls elevate into a spiritual resonance…

What beauty is this…?

Past mornings to these evenings,

Good night blessed earth.

Written by Samson Mandhla Moyo, a Student at the University of Livingstonia Malawi. Visit Samson’s blog for more

Eyes of Age

Youth waxed us with ideals

But age has shown us the real


Love is a maiden’s song

Of an eagle beyond the clouds


Beauty is a boy’s dream

Of a dove beyond mountains


Generosity burns to stumps

Fingers trying to stretch out


Charity is the arrogance driving

Those who keep others indebted


Unity is a shadowy pool where

Minorities are silently drowned


Truth is what lions posit

And that which guns guard


Lies are the bulwark of power

Crowned with a veneer of gold


Equanimity is the diamond tip

Tapering arrows of suffering


It draws out poetry from anger

Coiling out of incinerated hopes

Bruce Zondiwe Mbano (Mzuzu, 1984) is a lecturer in the Department of Language and Communication Skills at Chancellor College. He has authored short-stories, plays and poems, some of which have been published in The Fate of Vultures (BBC prize-winning poetry), Heinneman and The Haunting Winds (published by Dzuka). His poem The Viphya won second prize in the 2000 Peer Gynt Literally Award.

When Dying Becomes a Metaphor

Every morning, Ma Akudinamma checks her countdown

It is ten days to her death today

Not as if a doctor had numbered her days

She believes death is not unexpected for a woman her age


Six days ago, her late cousin walked into her dream

Ma Aku knew she would answer the call in sixteen days

It was her dead relatives checking up on her


But this morning, she feels the street below her balcony differently

It always offers its noise right through her window

A wake-up call for each morning

Today, it seems it will show her something off the routine


She stands right where the street wants her to, at her window

The kiosk comes first, directly opposite, and she knows the drill

A regular stream of sinewy figures, stale breath, and stained teeth

Each person receives the gin in meekness, then pours libation

A drop or two to a god who is always absent


They don’t care about going places, about seeing the world

What does it matter to these folks? Life is a waste for them

And they love to have it so. Yet they know much laughter

The people of this local gin kiosk


She could have missed the kids at the borehole

But then one raises his voice high enough to lap at her window

Three kids, two wondering about the gender of the third

And then one reaches down to where the proof should be

His fingers do not linger, just a brush and he turns to the other:

O nwoke!” The genitalia is like what they have


The clergyman’s little girl comes around, the one next door

And the other kids reserve a place for her, then she speaks

Tiny words she says her mother told her:

“I am the root and the offspring of David, the bright and morning star”

The third kid joins the others and they laugh at her:

“Stars don’t shine in the morning,” they tell her


They are only kids and understand neither metaphor nor scripture

They cannot believe, cannot reach out to the sky to feel the cloud for stars


It is the street right there with a tribute to her death

And she knows the play of the kids is about life and death

Because she is old and understands allegory

And the metaphor of the star, which is that need to feel before believing


Ebenezer Agu lives in Nigeria. He is in his early twenties and has a degree in English and Literary Studies, from University of Nigeria, Nsukka. He loves listening to music and reading novels and poetry; Rilke is among his favorite poets. He is presently working on compiling an anthology of contemporary African poetry.