by Gankhanani Moffat Moyo
I can’t feel your language
But I can feel your rage on this page
The anger of your heart
Like flowing ink
Is bled in syllables of pain
Your language is foreign to my ear
And acidic once on my tongue
But the connection between us
Within poetry
Cripples our own hidden codes
Of communication
The songs we sing
Are a myriad of coral flowers
Blanketing, with love,
The garden of our oneness
Now what is the question?
What is desire
If not to manipulate mere difference
For the edification of sameness?
Then who demands recognition
In a world of difference embroidered in uniform thought?
Nought!
The wind bathes in water
The water breathes the wind
Though texture detached
In soul and in blood
Both water and wind
The veranda in the human soul
Is spread for their rest
Untainted by togetherness
In hope and in love
Pain is overridden
By the rain of communal desire
We read inscrutable verses
And explicate our own destinies
In difference
Here, as reality dies,
Lies the poetry of sameness
Though in the guise of difference
May the poets rest
Differently. 20.10.09/17:01
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Apart from being a poet, Gankhanani Moyo is a writer, actor, dancer, literary critic, and singer - generally an all-round artist. He has performed in Zambia, within the Southern African region and in Europe. He is the author of Songs from My Soul (2008) and Orgasm (2011). Flames in Black Meditation is set for release next year., Gankhanani teaches literature at the University of Zambia.
Last updated July 14, 2015