Best Kraal Poems
To my friends and family
You are the ones who let me in
When I need an Inn
Even when I have to stay in a kraal
You will still make that call
On this day of joy and love
I wish you happiness
As described by the beatitudes
Happiness that blossoms in any weather
Outgrowing weeds lashed together
Another day will follow this day
I pray the spirit with stay this way
Merry Christmas
I am a refuge here!
In this foreign land-
Of luxury of darkness
Where darkness
Laughs at me
Angry winds,
Bite me like scorpions,
Mosquitoes,
Drink me like a pot of beer
Bed bugs, my nocturnal guests,
Hold conferences
To celebrate on my ribs
Jiggers,
Rip my feet apart like cakes,
In the sage-master’s kraal
Philanthropists, my only hope
Offer mockery of aid
As they drink bottled urine,
Slumber in glass pots,
And make sheen- beings
To count stars endlessly!
Surely I am alone.
In my own country,
In this world,
I am alone, alone and alone
With no one to care
In this refugee-land!
Of luxury of darkness
Where all is,
Dark!
Dark!
And dark!
When I stood my face, to steal a glance
You stood your face, to steal a glance
When I caught the thief, catching a thief
You arrested me, I chained you
The sun had just dropped, I had not eaten
My mother's full pot, but yawns and yawning
Turning myself eye popped, my skin bed cold
Through the black dark, cockroaches looked afraid
As the sun showered her face, I washed mine
I went into the Kraal, took my Masai and Simba
No time to eat gruel, to the gold field to mine
Again I saw you, how to let you mine
As you climbed to fetch, I said ouch!
As acacia thorns bit your knee, I said ouch!
Ooh, my African Rose, you kill minus swords
The gap in your mouth grains, way for laughter
The river in your creamery coopers, full of mills
The hill that follows you, whenever you move
The fibers above your height, not human fossils
AMERICA - THE MELTING POT FOR FREEDOM
I know, as you do, that there is no man who
Wouldn’t trade his rice bowl empty and dry
Or his barrio hut and the tse tse fly
And say thank God for America
No girl who wouldn’t trade third-wife-in-the-tent,
And her work in the kraal, lifelong graft, *
To board an aircraft as a drowner grabs a life-raft
And say thank God for America
Watch her slip her bonds unbound, west to where her future’s found
The freedom girl fast bound to America by knots untied
Soon she will be an equal, and his bowl will be plied
They say thank God for America
Different but equal, all allowed to grow where they can,
No gatekeeper stops their hopes, stills their tongue,
They have become American, their spirit is young
They say thank god for America
The rain falls on each equally, and the sun likewise
Their hopes can flourish along with those of others
Old hatreds are replaced with the ways of brothers
Say thank God for America
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen's
Contest "America, the Melting Pot for Freedom"
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NOTE
* The word "graft" in my British English simply means "hard labour"
Polished Dust
Ha- haa our community has reared a bull
As it moves from the kraal it charges
Against a tree, a rock, and anything
When the moon peeps it charges at it
When the sun rises it sneezes at it
When cloud swims above it raises dust
Wanting to jump and touch the sky
Giggling like a ghost when darkness knocks
You meet such bulls in grazing lands
Day in, day out busy charging at all
Sometimes with tongues poked out,
Releasing hot dung in water they drink
Generations in and out the game continues
With futile action of polished dust
This land of humans with rationalism aside
Is rich in polished dust more than all
the event occurs at the call of nightfall
like the Pied piper it attracts gallant souls
drum beats,hooting,shouting,pep talks
all the fancy one would meet in a circus
all paths trail to the house on the hill
contestants converge at his Majesty's abode
the trophy is displayed to the beholding eyes
an art of beauty and elegance like the Mona Lisa
the magnificent princess the colossus of the event
and this means war for any by the name..."MAN"
she hath a charm that would make one slay a dragon
if that were the avenue to winning her heart
The kings arrival stirs every spirit
echoes of gusto engulf the atmosphere at hand
with immense pride he wields his golden spear
a symbol of authority and power for he that claims the throne
and that marks the prologue of a remarkable event
manifested by an heavenly ballet
stars thousands across the heaven roofed coliseum
Agana the Kraal champion stands his ground
like the legendary Minotaur he's quite a scene
blood shot eyes,wrinkled face,he posses for a challenge
and the answer to his quest............."grave silence"
not a single"MAN" is brave as
to lose his head in the hands of Goliath
not a single soul felt David worthy
Yesterday,
when jingles clanged into your compound
Directly from my papa's kraal
Were you not the young woman
Who later swore to stick in sadness, joy and...?
And today,
As we walk out of divorce court
Do you smile
When our children give us torn looks?
Today, and yes, today
For tomorrow is misty
Ahem! Why can't we just forget,
That this is a scar that only the grave will heal?
The chanting of a mob descends into the valley from over the hill in a sea of fire
In a wave of belligerence stomp to awaken their own demons
Wielding machetes and torches in the night high above all reason
Resembling their master holding pitchforks making clear their intentions
A rogue storm to target the evil they mirror in their own superstitions
"She sent a bolt of lightning to steal my mealie meal
I followed the trail of maize from the punctured hole in the bag
Our children starve while hers grow fat of our sweat the witch
Seeing them burn in return will reverse the spell
And curse all her zombie offspring instead and see them off to hell..."
"I also caught her bathing by the river with her serpent
It rose on her command into a tornado to carve a patch of destruction
It struck with venom through the village destroying all our homes, but sparing hers
Swallowing our livestock now regurgitated in her kraal
Her monkeys traverse our rooftops in the dead of night and haunt our nightmares..."
The elderly woman and her grandchildren, locked in their hut, wept to no remorse
Their screams barely audible over their victims' blood thirsty mob seeking justice
She could not escape to safety nor was she given a chance to plead her case
For she was accused of witchcraft, a crime for which once suspected, it’s enough to immediately sentence
The innocent, with open ignorance and a lack of common sense to narrow mindedness
08-11-2015
Hyena
tired and hungry
cried loudly near kraal
saw little hope for a meal
prayed
VACANCY
My life is like a puzzle,
Riddling my thoughts perpetually,
Overdosing my mind with conundrums,
No solution for this enigma!
Is there someone to...
Reveal my compassion,
To dedicate love to with obsession,
Commitment genuinely in passion,
Jury of executive love in commission.
Seized and confiscated hearts in my possession,
Quilt of soul espionage is my confession.
This, potential lovers out there is an appeal…
My kraal is fully cowed,
But no piece of meat on my table… Who will join and fill my heart with happiness?
Cause this, be a table for two!
By Willem Pietersen
A mysterious man of wonder
lived in a village; anything he could do
to a villager or stranger who
stole his wealth
A man staggered in his kraal
a big bull he took away
“you’ll below like a bull
till you vomit my bull”
The thief bellowed like a bull
two weeks past and still bellowed
and ate grass like a bull
Another felt hungry
to the garden of the mystery man
he went and plucked pumpkin
“You’ll cook that pumpkin
for three days it will be there in your pot”
Funny! Three days the pumpkin
laughed and laughed in the man’s pot
it remained hard and raw as it was picked
and the thief disappeared without a trace
A woman went to the kitchen
hungry and lured by the fetus
in her womb she took secretly an egg
man mysterious in his ways knew
“Foolish woman, he stammered angry
Ten eggs each day you’ll lay”
Poor woman laid little eggs
every other day she did the penalty
Villagers were concerned
they gathered and drummed
for a grant gathering
but he mysterious man knew
and disappeared among calves
born that day in the village herds.
But the elders appointed a dog
to search everywhere in all places
that is why dogs are friendly to man
and always move sniffing
to discover hiding place
of the man of mystery
I always think, big big and bigger
Less do I forget, asking why and why?
Of all that happen, not a moon bigger
Very little do care, why new no lie
Every mind target, the task ooh ******
Above and below, beside and besides
Flavored look the' pay , aside pain the' lay
I try hard somber lay, suicide but from murder
Cardinals and popes say, I say but foot shut
And then and wow, ululations no nuts
Never never to say, say after tis
When the moon waxes, the new diminishes
Over and over the moons, my meat pulls
Every case say aaai, goons beat to sigh tools
Never never to say, after tis tat
To all that see, not brand here
Of all that happen, the moon is big
I no longer cry, I no longer feel
Listen I sing lullabies, I say Shhh!
I have a reason, to stay in the Kraal
My name changes, to Mama So,
Girl is So, Kraal balloons more
Image of South Africa Cape Town Table provided by Pixabay
Token Steps
Ruling winds the austral buttes naked slopes ...
as vortex smoky rise aloft Zulu's kraal
Clans in circular indlu huts enclosing round
all women famous to craft their beads
while getting set for tomorrows Reed Dance
a trait of Zulu armistice Nguni extends
Bestill, war drums eve chants Shaka's hopes ...
2021 May 29
MY WEEK OFF WORK
I would go back to the amber waving grain
I long to fly to America again
Oh yes it’s corny I know
To say I love America but it is so
When I look around at the restriction
And these old methods and ways of affliction
In my un-American surrounding
And feel the blood in my head pounding
With anger and held-temper
At the man paid to be my gatekeeper
And when I see the planes on their run
Daily westbound into the sun
And I know, as you do,
That there is no one who
Wouldn’t give his rice bowl wood and hard
Or his party membership card
Or her position as third wife in the tent
Or her work in the kraal, lifelong spent,
To board that moving craft
As a drowner boards a life-raft
Watch her slip the bond unbound
She goes where freedom is found
Prima ballerina now she’ll dance
Gaily gaining speed she’ll start to prance
Leaping up the air will free her swift
Graceful strength not seen but felt in lift
Two wings full spread to soar in pride
Shimmering sheen of pure pearl
Diminishing sight, the freedom girl
Fast bound to America by knots untied.
Like a new baby into the world,
Like a new baby chick into an old kraal,
Sometimes I feel so exposed and vulnerable,
My energy is even at stake.
I am exposed to the energy vampires,
They do suck away my energy all the time,
May be I am being too sensitive, but no!
It is only that they are inconsiderate.
Can I keep on running away from them?
Life is about interaction, will I do without them then?
I don’t know how to act when I am around them,
But I know that sometimes I need them and it hurts,
Because, with them I feel powerless.
They do judge things at first value, prima facie,
Blind eyes they turn to the surrounding circumstances,
They are selfish and inconsiderate,
Demotivated, bad and inferior, that’s how I feel,
They are energy vampires and I hate them.