TITUS MAXWELL

Mandela my love, I want to be your Queen. Counting the heartbeats While leaning on your chest Hold me beside you With your firm grip On my waist. Mandela my love, I want to be your first choice. I'll make you Sleep on my lap. While my fingers. Busy drawing  lines on your face Silently whispering The latest love poem. Mandela my love, Take me to the highest mountain There, I'll show you my love Beyond the horizon. I want you to kiss my lips Which always taste honey And feel my hard-orange-breasts When you hold me close to you. Mandela,  my love Loving you is my weakness and, Having you is my strength. Take hold of my hand And lead me to the plains; The land of beautiful roses Shining like diamonds at night Then whisper to me The sweetest words from your heart. Oh,  Mandela my love... Am out of words For am lost In your 'Paradise of Love. ' Courtesy:shutterstock.com

On the high mountains Gazing around To see the incongruous hills And the incorrigible trees. Enjoying the view Of the jolted plains Which are loop-sided Away from the sea. Our dark land Having meandering paths Leading to the unknown. For sure, We're strangers in our own land! Missiles of darkness Penetrating through the alleys And ocean of tears Brought by the Nazism  supporters. Oh Africa! Our eyes  are wet with tears. Wake up from your slumber! And take care of your inhabitants. A map showing the African continent Picture:africaguide.com

When I heard about the City, My heart danced with pleasure And the overflowing urge To see it. First,  those skyscrapers And the numerous cars Made my mind to go viral. For now it's enough And the right time To leave the city And its crazy mimes. I've seen much Mostly disgusting Than the promised goodies Let me return back to my village. In the streets, Ladies walk almost naked Fake hair,  fake nails... Most of these ladies are fake From their looks to their words. I'd rather marry Kadzo Our village dancer Than these City ladies Who always think on partying, Smoking and drinking wine. I'll return to my village And build myself  A makuti thatched hut And forget these cosy rooms With poor ventilation. After  that, I will plough my garden Then plant the traditional Katumani maize seeds. I'll return to my village And rear my own livestock Because when am in the city I see no life sustaining opportunities Except for the short te

I only saw the smoke And the outraging anger Coming from her heaving chest I asked her,  "Why? " All I got was a cold stare. Leaving me to tumble over And fell in the thorned ditch? I knew not. But at least, I'll be free from her Her relentless jealousness. Where did this fight start? And when? Alas! She stormed to my workplace that morning After getting some rumours From envious neighbours Who were after me But their efforts Were fruitless. Now that morning, She stumped her feet And kicked away Chairs,  boxes and everything Out of her way. Not knowing what she was fuming for. I paved a way for her And sat on the sofa sweating "Where were you yesterday? " She wanted to know. Standing before the CCTV She viewed the recorded clip That night, I slept in the office Due to much work Since I'd been away for months. Realizing  this, She relaxed and said, "Honey,  when will you take me out for dinner?" I laughed

I've met the girl Who stole my heart Those days in high school. You want to know her name? Well,  I'll tell you. I've met her In the outskirts of Johannesburg On her way from work. Do you remember her? She was tall and slender Her hips, Curved like an African pot While her dark lips, Made her to look rude. She had black hair Hanging down her neck. Her skin, Was soft and tender And it wasn't too dark Nor so pale. I've met the girl Who made my nights sleepless When she saw me First,  she stood still And rubbed her eyes for surety. She seemed to be lost In her secret world. She dropped her leather handbag And ran towards me. I looked behind me, To see if there is someone behind me Luckily,  I was the only person In that alley. After that century hug, She filled my shoulder with tears Then took me to her house And cooked dinner for me. She was helpless And a stranger too In this deserted country Called Love. For sure, I'