Three Poems by Mzi Mahola

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 The Land Will Heal


When the Truth Commission  

Opened its sanctimonious arms,  

Waving the holy book  

Out of their crevices  

For hugs and admonition,  

Crawled the 'born again' souls,  

Suddenly remembering  

The weeping rivers  

Conveying guiltless ashes  

Of our soil's sons.  

We wondered.  

On feeble limbs,  

The legless, pushed by their kin,  

Responding to the horn,  

All thirsty for this elusive truth,  

Faultless victims of the seasons.  

For too long, their hearts quivered with grief  

As they searched for the vanished,  

The dead  

In graves with no holes.  

They will not throw up in the air  

Angry arms of despair  

When truth eludes lips.  

The sun of our land  

Will ease their wrinkled spirits,  

Thread those devalued hopes,  

Mend their fractured souls.


---


 Impassable Bridge


I phoned for an MP,  

A former bosom friend.  

His secretary asked,  

"In connection with what?"  

It punctured my ego;  

I felt my manhood shrinking.  

I said,  

"Give him my message:  

Tell him that poisonous mushrooms  

Sprout under rotten logs.  

If he asks for my name,  

Say it was an angered poet.  

If you can do that for me,  

I'll be OK."  

But she was quick to add,  

"And lizards don't fly  

For their food;  

They crawl."  

She hung up.


---


 Cornered


Even in my loneliness,  

I remain human,  

Tied with a cord of longing.  

My love is in abundance,  

Lacking words to explain.  

Yet I'm so scared  

In my loneliness,  

For I feel the blood in my heart  

Being turned to acid,  

That it might poison  

My good intentions.  

Man can give, give, and give  

Until there's nothing more to yield.  

After you've leased your life,  

Except your soul,  

And love that remains abundant.

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