Collaborative Poem by:
Stephen Mupoto [Ngugi Wamkiri]
Norman Mwale [The PenPusher]
As I lie on my death throes,
This wobbly bed is my last memory,
Lean forward and hear my words,
Words which are a pack for life.
You see this world,
It is not as sheepish as it seems.
All that glitters is not gold,
Some fold are gallows!
If while climbing a tree
You insist going beyond the top
The earth will be waiting for you!
The morning sun is ardent
But in summer times
Your skin frets in the heat!
Behold my daughters!
Words are like bullets; if they
Escape you can’t catch them.
What an old man will see while
Seated, a small child can not
See even standing on top of the
Mountain!
I have left you my walking stick
To listen to the replecations;
Songs of every stride l made
I have mouthed in proverbs,
Which is a horse that can carry
You swiftly to the discovery
Of ideas
And he who is wise will infer!
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