Namatsi - Hisia Ni Zangu

A dedication to all the Facebook poets For a while I couldn’t believe it They call me shallow because my pocket is surface It can’t go deeper… it doesn’t carry the notes or cheques required to make a book or album They call me weak because my poetry travels thorough a system that accommodates all forms of evils They call me not learned, because my poems are called notes and not poems They disregard my work and think that since I choose facebook, there is no way I can race with the eagles Sometimes they manage to drag my heart into a tearful and effusive stage of hopeless drunkenness But most times they make me stronger… give me that balance… as they act as that pivot I ache for I am a facebook poet They say I am not a writer because I do not read a book every day, week or month I blame them not; I am not a writer; I am an artist of words… I see the world like a painter does and speak about movements of earth in detail like a poet My words lay not in pages but they sprea

Pillar since birth He knew me best even before I could know me He taught me to spell my name JACQUELINE... He made me appreciate Namatsi He taught me to write numbers one to three He sacrificed, he took loans, he cancelled important meetings to give me the best When he smiles at me… I know he says, I love you When he pats my back… I know he says, well done And it’s all good, no it is great I wish I could say thank you in a way that could express its weight Heart of steal I learn from watching him, I became from listening to him He has been captain… showed us the way even in the stormy skies He hurts deep but I have never seen him weep They say I have his nose… it’s his legs am sure I have… Strong enough to enable me to cover miles in valleys dark and deep to green pastures He never says it but I was taught that when he smiles at me… I know he says I love you And when he pats my back… I know he says, I am proud of you As thoughts flood as to what my lif