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𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀.𝐊.𝐀. – 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐦
REST IN POWER
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑
I never got to know AKA personally. Other than via his multimedia presence, I’ve never seen him live even at a distance. Neither do I personally know any of AKA’s family members, friends, colleagues, and others that closely connected to him. My tribute to him is unsolicited. I publicize it with only the best of intentions; in admiration of yet another gifted, inspirational artist gone too soon. Had I had blood children of my own, some of them would have been about AKA’s age. The sadness I feel about AKA’s demise is not only of a fan or from a creative’s perspective, but of a man with much intrinsic paternal instincts sentiments also.
People die all the time under all sorts of circumstances. The thought of hundreds, if not thousands, of people dying daily in the ongoing Ukraine war, stupefies me. Starting with my mother in October, 2018, in the past four years since I returned from a five-year’ stay in South Africa, 2013-18, there has been a significant number of deaths in my family and friends circles in both the already-mentioned, Zambia, other parts of the world, and Norway. This has been an emotionally challenging time in that regard. But no fuss.
A total stranger of a colossal socio-cultural influence at a global scale dies, and everyone near and far makes a fuss. Cynics look and rebuff, “What the ‘𝘦𝘧’ is this? Some famous person dies, and the whole world is out on tantrums. And yet, right within our midst, ordinary people die under the worst of human conditions every day. Some die in solitude only to be discovered years later. Nobody raises even an eyebrow. ‘𝘌𝘧’ the famous! ‘𝘌𝘧’ the rich!! ‘𝘌𝘧’ vanity worshippers!!!”
When I fuss about AKA or some other phenomenal global socio-cultural personality’s demise, it’s not so much about the person and their riches. It’s more about how outcomes of their works impact, or have impacted me as a creative and one who is ever drawn towards beautiful, uplifting material and conceptual things. All the better if Rock Stars’ human values can be appreciatively compatible with mine. When people like these die, circumstances, age or time, and space regardless, I am ever reminded of my own vulnerability and mortality. It is a humbling experience.
I fuss as a means to confront and work with my fears in the face of my smallness against creation and my fate. Hoping that I shall succeed in living every day of my life as a decent human being inspired, imperfections granted, by lessons learned from the observed deeds exemplified by dearly departed. Deep felt condolences to AKA’s family, friends, colleagues, fans, and all others that value his work and humanity in South Africa and worldwide. May His Soul Rest in Eternal Power!
SC. 03/03-2023
In my books
𝘌𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘧𝘢 𝘯𝘫𝘦
Like they never had meaning
No value
That’s 𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘣𝘢
My life stories
Are rooted
In the land of my birth
𝘔𝘻𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪 𝘧𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰
Made hell on earth
Where at a
Blink of an eye
People fall and die
Daily
Like we are all
Bodies of houses of cards
Trivialized
From one game of cards
To the next
Gambling
With our lives at stake
Souls made cheap
Like we have no meaning
We have no value
When blood is ink for my pen
When each Word letter
On my computer screen
Streams blood Perfect
Sure as bullets in guns spell death perfect
People in my books
Can’t help but die
In the reality of murder
Executed perfect
As a tool for
Settling scores
Eliminating enemies
The detested
The envied
Disruptors
Troublemakers
Call them rabble-rousers
The corrupt and Rock Stars alike
Thinking that people exterminations
Solve problems in the living
Good riddance
As in books
Where people die on the one page
Forgotten in
Storylines on the next fiction page
People never learn perfect
Next chapter
Enter the police
Storylines change
Exonerated or
Guilty as charged
Closing chapter
Vengeance looms in
Urban jungle law
Last chapter open
Infinite
Another body of many
Shall bite the dust
All tomorrows ahead
Born naturally
Destined to perish
Due to
Unnatural death causes
In the hands of
Natural born killers
Hitmen dying as they lived
Life and death
Humping and bumping
On the circumference of
The circle of existence
To the extent that
We can breathe
Smell
The Rands and the Nairas
I dip my pen in blood
Blood smudges my writing papers
Sight of words
Weeping blood
On my computer screen
Hard to bear
Been too many deaths lately
𝘈𝘳𝘨𝘩, 𝘯𝘹𝘳𝘩𝘩, tell me something new
In the world of the living
My new book
Says to give it a break
In the dead silence
Of my solitary work space
I breathe
Something
Finer than thin air
Oxidizes my sorrow
Slow
I feel peace
Inside
Outside
All over
If there was a time for me to get hit
This would be it
I’d die without a pain
No complaint
No resistance
Stoicism in death
Waste of yet
Another fuckin’ life
Shoot-to-kill slain
In broad daylight
The Rands and the Nairas
Don’t matter no more now
The greenback
Going to America
With Nyovest
Leaving 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘦 alone
Mahotella Queens wailing
Work for your money, son
Cease criminality
American guns shoot
Numerous folks at once
In the hands of one man
In eyes-wide-open
Prejudicial fellow human’ slaughter
Whereas methodical knee-on-neck
Executes
One man at a time
On the street
In full world view
Under the sun
Just an aside
Dark clouds
Looming over
𝘔𝘻𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪 shall never die 𝘧𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰
Eskom the loadshedder ain’t no accident
We can’t hide even in the dark
And then
I hear a voice in a song
Do the rap lines
𝘔𝘰𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘷𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘧
𝘏𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 ‘𝘯 hero
Thinks them reduced me
To worthless
House of cards fallen apart
Them don’t know
My center holds
Which is all I need
To root me
Six feet under
For me to rest in power
For my spirit to soar
Higher in the sky
Than in my living days
Check it out
I’m on billboards
Now
Larger than life
Ever
My arms open
To the heavens
All eyes on me
As ever
Your story’ll be over soon
One way or another
No billboards for you
No smartphone screen saver pics of you
Pages of your story book’s
Gonna burn
In every 𝘔𝘻𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪 home 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘷 𝘴𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘭𝘢 𝘧𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰
𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺
Going out of fashion
But for Eskom
From Cape Point to Beit Bridge
Ethekwini, I don’t wanna talk
All flames on you
Supa Mega is
Forever mega
Ain’t over
Till you’re over
Y’all haters
The mike’s dropped
Peace
END
©Simon Chilembo 19/02-2023
THE CHILDREN’S FUTURE
FATE TRAP
Hard to count
When now
They are in fixed
And then
Criss-crossing groups
Repeat
Again, and again
Here, there, everywhere
At the same time
In this closed space
Playing games of all sorts of
Running, jumping, falling, rolling
This moment orderly
The next erratic
Repeat
In the pandemonium
There’s laughter, there’s crying
Commands, corrections
Arguments
Singing
Whistling above
Melodies of birds
Claiming space here too
Dogs in this land don’t bark
Neither do cars hoot
Just as well
Balls bouncing off the ground, walls, and boards
Rattling chains
Shrieking voices
Squeaking metals
Waiting for glass to smash
Total chaos repeating itself
Day after day
Yet the world
Does not go under with these
Eighty-eight
Could be ninety-nine
Perhaps one-hundred-and-one-plus children here
The happiness
The love
The freedom
Reflecting harmony
In the chaos
The children splash
Into my eyes
I can’t quantify
Now, let’ see
This one child here’s going to be a doctor
When grown up
This one to the left, a pilot
To the right, an engineer
I see a firefighter over there
There are bankers and bakers as well
That one standing across the plaza is
An army general
A warrior type
Resonates with my spirit
Yonder is a rock star for sure
Those three under the oak tree over there
Shall be bus drivers
Taxi drivers
Aha, that one running towards the drivers
Is Prime Minister material
President or monarch where applicable
I can bet my last penny that
That lot over there shall be
Billionaire investors
Boss kids
From whom
A Godfather shall rise
Gangsters have been children too
I see an engineer here
A scientist there
A philosopher here
A preacher there
The future is bright
When grown up
These children here
Shall fix climate change troubles
No more natural catastrophes
These children here
Shall fix global economy issues
No more poverty
No more inequalities
They shall fix world peace troubles
No more wars
No more displaced people
Wading treacherous rivers
Running into hell fires
Drowning in the seas
Roasting in the deserts
Whilst
Fleeing tyranny
In their homelands
In vain
Seeking to taste
Heaven on earth
In other lands
Hope in every heartbeat
Before they die
As they die
Hope lives on
These children here
Are going to be the finest people ever
When grown up
They can be nothing
And everything
At the same time
The whole world is
Dancing under the children’s feet
With their hands
They shape
Future of the world
As to their dreams
In play today
But then again
At some time, some place
A fool shall emerge
From nowhere
Molest a child here
Molest a child there
Molest a child in places unknown
Forever change the child’s life trajectory
Destroy the future
Cease the child’s life
Erase the future
As do weapons of mass destruction
A volcano erupts
In my head
My primordial instincts take over
I could kill a man
Weren’t it for
The law of the land tying my hands
I better run
Get away from here
I never know
Who’s watching me …
(Continues in the book MACHONA POETRY: Rage and Slam in Tigersburg)
©Simon Chilembo 12/09-2021
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
Telephone: +4792525032
September 20, 2021
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PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my latest book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories.