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Best Poems Written by Isaac Kinzambi

Below are the all-time best Isaac Kinzambi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

MY NAME IS

Your name is the Way,
My path rolling, my pictures are scrolling
Colored or black and white,
My screen darkens, my audience crying
I may not know all corners,
My navigation compassing, mapping
I may not know how to be holy and spirit,
My faith hoping, sinking

Your name is the Way, my way narrowing,
My tears rolling, sobbing
You name is the Way,
My name is changing,
Shocking; my name is Worship

Your name is the Truth,
My leaders promising, my followers are waiting
Laws or decrees and procedures,
My calling questioned, my audition smiling
I may not speak like all of them,
My accent confusing, suspect
I must not adore their idols and divinities,
My covenant standing, sacrificing

Your name is the Truth,
My truth is far from their reality,
My vision steering
Your name is the Truth, my titles speculating,
Shaking, my name is divinity
Your name is Life, my opposers networking,
Crafting my disappearance
Mistakes and faults or vice,
My sentences are cut and passed to their convenience
I may not know how to save the world,
My faith is to live in your presence

I might be found guilty for being different,
My mission is to make the difference
Your name is life; you came to heal to grow,
You came to grow to heal, reverence
Your name is Life, death doesn’t have the last say,
Living, my name means smile

Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015



Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

African Silence

African silence

Since when have you been speaking?
Like a thunder you have been
In which language have you been teaching?
Like a master you had seen
My son saying what you think costs life

From where are you accent? Bantu land
My son, from where did you fall? Zongo
In doing what you can’t say, Mpungo a Ndongo
Saying what you cannot do, Yalukeni
Until you suffer silence that can hear sound.
Silence, I say silence, pray and cry, this is it

Since when do you shout, trying to fit in and out?
Like a comedian you try to insert tears in eyes
In which tone can you cry to tell this story?
Kulu Mbimbi tells her story better than you do
My son wipe out your tears, use your ears
Learn to silence your frustration, be silent

Go read, I have been there before you. I am silent
Crowding, shouting, thinking what you will say
The cost of bloody confrontation to the line of death
Just write out your emotion, bring in your commotion
Until you sleep, wait, silence, I say be silent, use it
Use silence to speak to teach to sleep, you are still

Since when have you been writing your voice?
On unrest and no rest you stood stages of speech
In which weapon have you been fighting, struggling?
Wrestling winning, my son was not reading on time
It takes silence to read time, be on time, leading on time
Silence I say, silence, grandfather Mandela is resting




Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2016

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

African Greed

African Greed

They all speak and spit, dream for Dollars, it’s America
They will kill you and vomit for Pound, it's England
They know almost nothing about economy, wealth
They think just because you have money, you are rich
The word money comes, sound divinity, adoration
Don’t say corruption, financial crises, just say greed

It looks as if all of them know how to manage money,
When few can tell where money is made, designed, printed
Few in Africa can tell which kind of paper is used for a bill
Few in Africa can tell how much it costs to craft a coin
Few can tell if bullets of our guns are made in Africa
Don’t say civil war, extremist, Terror, let’s say greed

African greed, let Lumumba roll back on his no grave
African greed, let Sankara fight back for his legacy
African greed, selling our wisdom back to alienation
African greed, selling our hope back to illusion
African greed, riding our horseback to colonialism
African greed, selling our leadership back to dictatorship

They put money in front of vision and motion
I am living in a place where” you are your money”
You get a kiss and smile on your bank balance
You get friends and lovers on your pocket size
Even education is now linked to how much you can pay
Don’t say Ebola, HIV, Poverty, Demons, let’s say greed

African greed; let Mandela roll back in his grave
Africa greed; let Mandume fight back for his land
African greed; selling our identity back to slavery
African greed; selling our faith back to idolatry
African greed; sailing on boats back to savagery
African greed; selling our dream back to the nightmare

Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2016

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

Money Me not

Money me not

So quick my conversation with you
Changed so quick as your tone stinks
I could smell your real motive
For travelling miles and smiles

Money me not, the altar of my inspirations
Money me not, the standards of my aspiration
Money me not, the secret of my motivation
Money me not, the cause behind my mission

So fast and furious ready to sell
Whatever comes to your mind for gain?
Money me not, I have dignity, pride
I suffer times, to get what you seek

Money me not, for the altar of my message
Money me not, on the lane of vision
Money me not, the essence of my elevation
Money me not, a conviction of my information

It’s like any business, you said
I don’t believe mercantile, all for gain
I stood for change, liberation and charity
For the gift I received, no price can force

Money me not, on the stone of my transformation
Money me not, on the route of my motion
Money me not, on the format of my formation
Money me not, on the root of my vocation

So slow I learn to give, to lay down me
Whatever comes on my way, I sacrifice
I travel kilometers to find this gold
This is verticality, enlace of immortality

Money me not, on the altar of my humiliation
Money me not, on the tomb of my resurrection
Money me not, on the speed of my rotation
Money me not, on the rock of translation


________________________________________

Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2016

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

African cross

I made up my mind to live or die by faith,
Not through faith, nor justice, nor second hope
My hope is that justice and happiness comes,
Not through fear or through blood aspirations
I hope Makelele will stay milky, not bloody

African cross, the wood of my ebony tears
African cross, the limitation of my ideas
African cross, the mortification of my past
African cross, the slaughter of my generation
Africa cross, I decided to carry it to the forest

I made up my mind to lead twelve disciples,
To knowledge than through ignorance,
My son said, Master, focus in sowing your seed
I said, as long as there will be rain and water,
Seed shall be planted and Lukunga will water me

African cross, the riot of the poor angry
African cross, the revolver of the weak
African cross, the massacre of the no name
African cross, the policies of the lost winner
African cross, the darkness of wisdom

I made up my mind to love and speak life,
Not lies, no, truth, no minutes, no report
Where most of our lonely desk, teach us to run
I believe in seeking and walking the lonely Calvary 
Carry my wood heavy, black African cross

African cross, the helper that reached out to my king
African cross, the nurse that was near on my birthday
African cross, the editor of my prophetical papyrus
African cross, the politics of emotion motionless 
African cross: football of goalkeeping not reaching 

Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015



Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

Who is my reader

Who is my reader? My reader is my guest 
In the secret of his corner of host
He welcomes me as an instructor or tractor 
In the sector of her golden mind
She listens to me as minister or tax collector

Who is my reader? My reader is my leader
My reader is my adviser, my redeemer 
Transports me from writer to author, messenger
Elevates me from speaker to preacher, immortal
Promotes me from player to director, instructor

My reader is my uncle, my reader is my anchor 
In the dark street of his solitude, altitude
He accepts me as nephew or follower
In the cold corner of his addiction, condition
He sings along with me as inmate or soul-mate
 
Fight me with ,his muscles brown, wrestler
Read me with her avid eyes full of tears, lawyer
Who is my reader? My reader is my listener
In his mental imagery, he scans me between lines
He portrays me as storyteller or fortuneteller

Scrutinizes me between my words, inspector
Who is my reader? my reader is my provocateur
Who is my reader? My reader is my challenger  
My reader is my mother,my reader , my mentor
my reader may be a writer,my reader is my printer

Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

Run Rhino Run

Run rhino run, just like cousin cheater
Cheat on them 
They are coming again ,now it’s against
Like brother lion fight back

Their stories are made, maiming your horn
They have been there in Bukavu and left it dry
They have been in Bujumbura, left it bloody
Run my rhino run; give them a run of their money
Run rhino run, don’t fight on their folly, just run

Run to the deep forest of Mayombe, straight to 
Let them not catch you, kill you, evil
Fight to the core of you skill
Defend your skin
Run to the hut of MADIBA
Hide your horns

Remove them before you perish,
Listen it’s a fight not against you 
It’s a fight against me,
I am your shepherd 
I cry all the time, their 
Bullets designed to eliminate you, my flock

Run rhino run, quick to me, refuge 
Fight not evil by evil
Fight not greed by lies 
Just run and live,
If you can fly high into the heavens of gods

Run rhino, you can run, quicker than their arsenal
The visas said kill not,
Their passport said you are none
The licenses said kill the shepherd
Spare not the sheep 

Run rhino run,
Find me at the corner
Hold me, strong majesty

Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

where am i from

I am from the beach near high hills of Muizenberg 
I am from Vilakazi Street, walking with the mighty
I breathe from the breeze coming from Robben Island
My fathers dreamt peace; here I am, speaking for the lonely
You are dying to know where I am from? I am from Africa

I am from the Cape of Good Hope, where two oceans embrace
I am from the land of Melodies, where Nelson Rolihlahla rests 
I swim electrically to the sea, navigate me to better land
My master teaches me harmony; here you are, speaking supremacy
You are living to know where I am from? I am from Malaika

I am from the Inga Falls, on the feet of the mighty river 
I am from the high peak of Virunga, where uranium ushers Nagasaki
I am from the rain forest, where you breathe London in East London
Yes I am from the land of coltan, where Lumumba rests in acid
You are living to know where I am from; I am from the Berlin conference

I am from the longitude desert of the Namib, from the salty pans of Etosha 
I am from the valley of Kasange, where greatness divorces popularity
I am from the heart of welwistchia, where reality meets universality
I am from the land of the brave, where bravery coaches victory

I am from the silence of dunes, meditating on the divine designer 
I am from the River Okavango, where Nujoma walked crossing,
The odds of adversary, where inner said it is impossible
Where my fish is my meat, you are crying to know about my philosophy
You want to know where I am from; I’m from the belly of Windhoek


Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

there must be someone

There must be someone somewhere, looking for me
The must be someone somewhere, Watching on me
There must be someone somewhere
There must be someone on my way

There must be someone in space, calling my name
There must be some out there, reading my poem 
There must be someone somewhere
There must be someone on my way

There must be someone some place, leading my way
There must be someone some land, looking on me
There must be someone somewhere
There must be someone on my way

There must be someone somewhere waiting for me
There must be someone somewhere 
There must be someone somewhere
There must be someone on my way

There must be someone somewhere, clever than me
There must be someone somewhere, wiser than me
There must be someone somewhere
There must be someone on my way
 
There must be someone somewhere, stronger than me
There must be someone somewhere, holier than me
There must be someone somewhere
There must be someone on my way







Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015

Details | Isaac Kinzambi Poem

When you have nothing

When you have nothing

When you have nothing, its looks like you are nothing
?When you have nothing, sky looks like hanging
?When you have nothing, friend starts questioning
?Bank bangs on you ears, you are about to fail

?Money seems not growing on trees, alarming
?Your confidence tested and your hope may vanish
?When you have nothing, its doesn’t means you are nothing?
When you have nothing, God becomes everything

When you have nothing, your children think you have everything?
When you have nothing, your life partner may turn dead partner
?When you have nothing, your dream may run slower, looser
?When you have nothing, your wisdom may look falsie?

When you have nothing, all things look like cursing
?Your knowledge of the deep, may focus to the surficial butter?
When you have nothing, its doesn’t means you are nothing
When you have nothing, God becomes everything

?When you have nothing, you forgot you were born with nothing 
?When you have nothing, you forgot you would take nothing
?When you have nothing, you may think your neighbor miss nothing?
When you have nothing, you may think that money is everything?


When you have nothing, they may think you are not worthy
When you have nothing, God in you becomes everything
When you have nothing, remember the air is everything
?When you have nothing, remember life is something?

When you have nothing, remember love is everything?
When you have nothing, remember faith is everything 
?When you have nothing, remember nothing is not nothing
?When you have nothing, learn to say God you are, my everything







Copyright © ISAAC KINZAMBI | Year Posted 2015

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