Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE SHEPHERD AND HIS FLOCK BY OSWALD MTSHALI
THE SHEPHERD AND HIS FLOCK Read the Complete Analysis Here The rays of the sun are like a pair of scissors cutting the…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Analysis of An Old Man in Church by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
General Introduction " An Old Man in Church " by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali presents a poignant portrayal of a…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Analysis of If You Should Know Me by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
General Introduction " If You Should Know Me " by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali delves into the complexities of…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Complete Analysis of the poem The Washerwoman's Prayer by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
INTRODUCTION In "The Washerwoman's Prayer" by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali, a poignant tribute unfolds as the…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
PORTRAIT OF AN OLD PAIR OF SHOES Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Tanned as a hide of a hefty heifer, carved by the craftsman's scalpel, and shined to a shimmering blackness a s …
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
TWO CHIMNEY SWEEPERS Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali,
I saw two chimney sweeps scraping the soot inside a stack. They came out and wiped their faces and one said to the ot…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE MINER Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
At the strike of the noon bell he pops out of the shaft like a pea shot from the muzzle of a bazooka. He plods on iro…
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Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE SONG OF SUNRISE by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
The sword of daybreak snips the shroud of the night from the sky, and the morning peeps through the blankets like …
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE FACE OF HUNGER Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali,
I counted ribs on his concertina chest bones protruding as if chiselled by a sculptor's hand of famine. He looked …
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Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE MOULTING COUNTRY BIRD by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
I wish I was not a bird red and tender of body with the mark of the tribe branded on me as a fledgling hatched in th…
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Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
A DRUNK IN THE STREET by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
When you see him sprawled in the gutter, his fly open, his mouth dripping with vomit, his eyes bloodshot with booze, …
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Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
AT THE SEASHORE Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
The money-laden landlubber sneezes out the gold dust rising like a cloud from the mine dump. He scurries to the coast …
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Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE CHAUFFEUR SHUFFLE by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
He sits grim faced like a carving of blackwood in a peaked cap, clutching the wheel with white gloved hands, his eye…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
ALWAYS A SUSPECT by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Read the Complete Analysis Here I get up in the morning and dress up like a gentleman - A white shirt a tie and a su…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
KEEP OFF THE GRASS by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
The grass is a green mat trimmed with gladioli red like flames in a furnace. The park bench, hallowed, holds the lo…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
HIGH AND LOW by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Glorious is this world, the world that sustains man like a maggot in a carcass Mighty is the sea de-salted by the car…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
RIDING ON THE RAINBOW by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
(With the Jazz Giants at my first poetry reading 22:5:68) Boom! Boom! Boom! the bass rumbles, trumpet screams, cymba…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THIS KID IS NO GOAT by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Where have All the angry young men gone? Gone to the Island of Lament for Sharpeville. Gone overseas on scholarship, …
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
SUNSET by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
The sun spun like a tossed coin. It whirled on the azure sky, it clattered into the horizon, it clicked in the slot, …
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
A LOST COIN by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
It lies shimmering on the pavement like a drop of molten lead. Pedestrians blind like bats in the sunshine flit past.…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
THE DAY WE BURIED OUR BULLY by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
Through years and years of harrassment we tolerated his hideous deeds: girls abducted, boys assaulted, women molested,…
Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
AN OLD MAN IN CHURCH by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali
I know an old man Who during the week is a machine working at full throttle: productivity would stall, Spoil the mas…