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Gehazi Muduli Poem
When I walk down the paths that wind
Through the canyons of my mind,
I find mystic scrolls of wishes and dreams,
Floating on Destiny’s streams.
Never shall these dreams and wishes
Be abandoned, forgotten Fishes;
But they shall be accepted,
As long as they remain wishes not granted
And dreams unachieved,
Because accepting things we cannot change is maturity as perceived
By poets of old.
Written in ink of Gold
On these mystic scrolls is a sweet name.
Karen is the name.
When I look at the Valley of Tears without a wink,
I see that all the living drink
From the Goblet of Life in which
There is a blinding sparkle, which
Overflows and leaves many deceived.
Dreams unachieved
And wishes not granted
Are but a few of the many seeds planted,
Of the Herb of Bitterness
That grows both in height and thickness,
In the Goblet of Life. Only those of the crop
That drink from the Goblet with hope,
Shall find nourishment in the Herb of Bitterness.
Hope that, in another place – a place of happiness –,
In another time, and in another life,
The blinding sparkle in the Goblet of Life
Shall be true.
In the name of all that is just and true.
When I listen to the familiar sound
Of the anvil resound
At the Forge of Life, the human heart;
I am filled with awe by the art
Used in forging immeasurable hopes, feelings, wishes, fears, dreams, anxieties, treacheries,
And timeless memories.
Karen you are indispensable.
As part of my anvil at the Forge of Life, you are dependable –
The anvil that has given shape to my most treasured thoughts
Ever forged without faults.
Time,
The most Faithfull witness of them all,
The fairest judge of them all,
The greatest teacher of them all,
The kindest healer of the all,
And the most merciless killer of the all,
Will tell them all,
That these words I sing to you today, I mean then all,
To the end of time.
Copyright © Gehazi Muduli | Year Posted 2021
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Gehazi Muduli Poem
Weep Africa, weep on.
The battle with death is one we dare not to fight,
For the call from the great beyond is outside the scope of our existence.
Just as our known hero Ngugi Wa Thiong'o has fallen,
Like countless unknown heroes forgotten to time,
We shall all follow this path of no return one by one.
Fight Africa, fight on.
The foot prints left on the Sands of Time by Ngugi Wa Thiong'o are known to many.
As we follow his foot prints,
We are alive to the fact that there are other foot prints,
Though known to few,
That we must follow.
Copyright © Gehazi Muduli | Year Posted 2025
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Gehazi Muduli Poem
AT THE FORGE OF LIFE
Somewhere in our being,
Where our heart and mind meet,
There is a Forge of Life.
Just like the black smith,
Using a hammer and anvil,
Shapes useless pieces of metal into swords that have built and conquered empires,
Our shapeless thoughts and emotions are transformed into weapons,
Which can build or destroy others, including ourselves,
At the Forge of Life.
As the black smith holding the tools in your own hands,
Pray that you may have the will and strength to forge,
From your shapeless thoughts and emotions, Weapons of mass construction,
Which will build your life and the lives of others.
Copyright © Gehazi Muduli | Year Posted 2025
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Gehazi Muduli Poem
THE UNSUNG HEROISM
As long as this Heroism remains Unsung,
The miserable shall die miserable,
The frustrated shall die frustrated,
The disappointed shall die disappointed,
And broken hearts shall never mend.
Genuine Effort is the Unsung Heroism.
It can grant your wishes in your wildest dreams;
But most of times, even the best of Genuine Effort fails;
And when this happens, life tastes sour.
Then you ask yourself mind-splitting questions,
Which may never be answered in your lifetime.
In such trying times, you may ask,
“Is life ever going to taste sweet for me?”
Yes. Indeed, there is 'sweetness' beyond measure for you in this life.
May you find the great, sacred joy,
Which lies in appreciating Genuine Effort,
No matter how many times you try and fail.
This is the ancient foundation of true happiness,
The long-sought inner peace,
And the glorious strength to carry on across the Valley of Tears.
Where there is Heroism, there is a Hero.
If you make Genuine Effort for a dear cause,
No matter what happens afterwards,
You are a Hero.
In your life, you are your own Hero,
For no one knows what you want better than yourself;
And the decisive power to make Genuine Effort lies in your own hands –
Never look for a Hero elsewhere other than within yourself.
Emancipate yourself from the mental prison of misery, frustration, disappointment, and broken heart.
None but yourself can free your mind,
For you alone holds the key to your own prison of dejected thoughts.
May time, the greatest teacher of us all,
Get it through your hard skull
That making Genuine Effort is Heroism,
And that whoever makes Genuine Effort is a Hero,
Worthy of being sung by legendary poets and poeteses of all generations.
Copyright © Gehazi Muduli | Year Posted 2025
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