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Ayanda
Poetry / The Poetic Symphony of Loyiso Maqubela
20H58 FRIDAY, 13 AUGUST 2010
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Loyiso Maqubela

Through years of separation, I reunited with an old friend. He had the aura of confidence and an infectious smile of gratification. An illuminating personality that just made me want to be around him. Why I lost this friend to begin with is mind-blogging even to myself. But through the 21st century’s technological advances, I was able to reignite the precious relationship I once had with Loyiso Maqubela. Thankfully, so. Else I would be starved of brilliance.

Maqubela is a man of vivid descriptions. Refined from his stance to the words he possesses in his mind and relays on pen and paper to bring about incredible poetry. Fine detail with each line that resonates a deep passion within the reader. A deep thought of whatever theme he taps into.

At only twenty-one, this psychology student has already produced over 70 poems “each of them a reflection of some experience, thought, feelings that [he has] experienced,” or nature of humans surrounding him. But his mother’s passing away was his greatest inspiration in the avenue of poetic expression.

I found death to be one of the most fascinating subjects and it just spawned within me this incurable, insatiable need to put pen to paper and write out my thoughts, feelings and everything else that I observed.

Sometimes I find myself envious of this creative mind. I can only dream to be able fuse such imagination with the English language.

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Phoenix Rise (18 April 2010)

In the hearth of the great Goddess Hestia,
ruminates diminished pieces of coal.
Like stone guards, they stand, grey and brittle,
protecting a dying beast, devoid of life's burning heat.

Muddy brown eyes burn and become brazen bronze.
The grey protectors glow lightning white and with the
crackling sound of breath, a frenzied fire roars back to life,
engulfing the meek creature in combusting revival.

Phoenix Rise.

No ebbing and flowing here, just continuous tongues of
orange and yellow flames licking away the wounds of the
shielded being. Lava coats the beast in burning love.
It glows a violent red and unleashes a volcanic sound from its maw.

Phoenix Rise.

Light and heat, entangled in a lover's dance of passion,
wage a raging war against the fortifying grey rocks.
Coal becomes ash. Ash becomes dust and out steps a
golden soldier armoured in all the blessed ores of mother earth.

Phoenix Rise.

Coal-less flames burn brighter, bolder still, testing the very limits of light until,
in a flash of luminous time, they vanish, vanquished by the shadows of the past.
Quiet looms, death whispers in the wind and the empty hearth laments
for its heated work is never done.

Phoenix Rise

 

The War Rages On

Blood stains maim our soul with the debris of a painful war
The scars tattooed to our hearts never fade and glisten in the grey twilight
No white flag to be waived by our black hands which pound the ground like bleeding drums
Mother’s tears for her fatherless children fall unnoticed and the war rages on.

Senseless hate and foolish arrogance has stifled our people
Weeds, weaves and empty wisdom waft where hope and Faith once grew
Killed by our own need to change and adapt, our fortress of unity has been blown away
To the ground it has fallen, an archaic wreck, a pitiful symbol and the war rages on.

The ice on your neck and the ice on your wrist will Fahrenheit burn and leave you pieced in rest
You have become a traced creation, popcorn stale, blank and empty, you have no colour now.
As you seek solace in soliciting sex, the beat of your organic heart has waned like a failing tide
And now you are washed away, hip-hopping along a false road and the war rages on.

Warrior, soldier it is time for you to fight for the cause you were birthed with
I know you hear my quiet voice raging like thunder over a still, opaque sky.
Take up your weapons brother, sister, friends and others for there is more to be done.
Our hearts are heavy, dragging on the rugged gravel but rejoice for the war still rages on  

And on shall it rage, an angry beast, a fearsome Leviathan spawned from our own architecture
So let us take up the blueprints and deconstruct our monstrous hate, reconstruct our bleak fate.
Take your strength, your unyielding essence and cast it into the storm of life. Let it rain.
In time, our rainbow souls will shine the brighter and with the sun’s bright blessing,
Healing rays will pierce our unseen holes.

The war rages on ...

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