Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
Twenty six today, I saw
the luminous silver moon
make it's way through
the familiar sky that
bends above my head.
Each day I grew enthusiastic
and more credulous about
what lies ahead;
Waiting and hoping to remain
content with the one wish
granted.
And thereupon, a shooting star
In it's enthralling spectacle
A fallen seraphim with
broken wings crowding
my innocence upon
that fading star
Making a wish
To blow it away
into smouldering incense
of a new age.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
THIS is to remember my dear old friend
Memories I have, fading away
I walk on this road that has no end
In search of my friend, in a hopeless way.
I listen to bird songs in distant lands
To which my silent applause, brings me a tear
On this dreary dark night,
I wish you could hold my hands,
And give me comfort that you’re here.
You lifted me from bended knees
Made me a friend, as I regained my strength.
Before this setting sun, in times like these,
Thy smile would spread without restrain.
I look up into the sky, upon that fading light
The setting sun, a beckoning star
Farewell my friend, wherever you are.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
Listen all that stumble and fallen into arms of Angels.
This of mine' loves so dearly, much more than she can be loved.
Seraphims above and ghastly deities below -
She is the purest form of them all.
Her smiles' elegantly reassuring.
Like a singing bird that deserves a hand of applause.
A bow and a red rose thrown at her feet.
Certainly we are assured -
That a slightest light gives an estranged bird a profound feeling of utmost fortitude.
Alas!
In similar ways, this of mine', pure at heart, glittered with beauty and profoundly made me speak out against the gods, Aphrodite and Eros that had unfairly confined such a beautiful bird that sang the words of Love from dawn to sunset.
(Dedication to Tione)
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2021
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
If I could have one tree in the garden
It'd be a sculpted tree with white roses
The women, Beautiful and elegant in their stature,
would be the white roses that blossom earnestly.
Like branches frolicking in the twisting wind,
the men would solemnly standout
And I would be like a humble branch that has yet to bear fruit.
My ancestors, still anonymous where they lay
would be the unseen roots that firmly surveyed the land.
If I could have one tree in the garden
It'd have a couple of uninvited guests;
Weaving birds and African bees among many.
Flocks of wild geese would skim through tree
tops as they leave in search of fen lands.
If I could have one tree in the garden
It'd provide a shed to the homeless man from the blazing sun.
If I could have one tree in the garden
It'd be majestic for all people to see.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
I am writing this as vivid as a candlelight dancing in the dark ~
Portraying shadows of my greatest regrets.
There’s a battle going on around the world ~
Even as the sunrise enters and shines inside these walls ~
And through the nights, stars frolicking like ladybugs dancing in silence ~
I, sited in anguish and guilt think that the exclusion of one man ~
From the battlefield could spell victory in our favor ~
And so I cowardly isolate myself into a silent warrior ~
Just as a sniper would ~
Lying flat on his belly, watching from a far distance ~
Less conspicuous to the enemy.
I hope that my dormancy helps us get the upper hand ~
But before I head out on this conquest, know that I had fought a good fight
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
If only I could wish success
upon a generation~
I'd deeply gaze
into the burning core of my
Candlelight~
A flame from flame.
Brightness shared in a selfless way.
And with that~
the darkness that had once
Engulfed the lonesome compartment~
Lays but defeated~
by the dying melting wax.
Burning silently~
with a non - luminous flame;
Selfless~
As the light is passed on from one light
Generation to another.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
Through the cold night
I think of the homeless bird
seeking shelter under my roof
There's room for the twittering avian
A warm space by the ceilings
Not an imposition if the night is as calm as the
silver moon that sneak past a dark cloud
And so this, a companion to accompany
me through the gaping holes of my endless
nightmares
And yet in the comfort of an estranged guest my
heart hints a feeling of lies with half a hope and
half a despair.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
She woke up early that morning, opened the window that had a view of a blue sea, just in time for the rising mellow sunrise.
The fresh cool wind blew gently on her face as she drew the white linen curtains to the sides.
A ray of the gold sunrise revealed, an already prepared breakfast on the wooden table.
The wind blew off the candles as the smoke smoldered aimlessly through the room.
The fragrance of flower pots by the window filled the room with the familiar aroma that comes with blooming white roses.
The radio was playing and the birds were singing.
She was humming along and together the melodies sounded like waves of fresh waters by the seashore.
The routine interpreted all its greatness to having a caring and loving Mother;
A Caring, and Loving Morning star.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
As the night falls from interstices of burning clouds, lumbering through the broad sky like grazing herds of sheep
There comes a great forlornness through the deep forests of Zambia.
Land marked by Withered Tallowwood branches, that once covered the fiery red sun.
The bayou, with dry river beds sleeping all the more calmly than hibernating Owls~
Looking somewhat haggard in their night coats~
waiting for the setting sun.
Summoning nature's obligation that remains oblivious to the break of dawn.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Koffi Mtonga Poem
My courtesy name passed down through generations, I bear the marker of an outstanding exultation.
Though sometimes I wonder if they were tall as I am.
Board as a leader, Fierce and humble in person.
Sometimes me thinks, the curiosity gives an innocuous valour.
This is so, I perceive
Praising and imaging them heroes in their own accord.
Does my name run down through four generations
Or three, perhaps two?
How many passed through this torch that holds the strength of ten men.
Should I pass it on to others.
Should they also get the bear's maker of heroism.
For I am a man who's on social persona, embodies heroic and virtuous traits that demonstrate the highest degree of excellence.
Though Generations pass away, Traditions ripen and decay, this name still doth stands to old age.
Copyright © Koffi Mtonga | Year Posted 2019
|