My Life As A Poet By Njabulo N., Commentary by Oke I.

My life as a poet,
Has not been a sweet one,
It has been tedious as the sea waves,
With slithering moves like a snake,
With a lot of punches more than a boxer,
It is unpredictable,
It can get you lost in wild thoughts.
Words without sounds,
Voices without people,
Minds without hearts,
Bones without flesh,
And the red blood without veins.

Poetry is really my calling,
It is a burning urge,
With the flames clothed with so much passion,
Allowing me to express my emotions through words,
Easing my mind to feel relaxed.
Through poetry,
People either get healed or killed,
Through my words,
People choose to either get a burial ground or life,
A lesson in disguise,
Or just a triumph in the dark.
Poetry is not always about,
The syllables, metaphors, paradox and similes,
But the message it carries for its audience.

My life as a poet,
It has been a journey,
Like the one of the Israelites,
It has been an exodus since the genesis.
It has been a beautiful experience,
Living by my pen and words,
Giving life and courage to the hopeless,
Being the voice of the voiceless,
Breathing life to my words for the audience,
Letting my poems speak on my behalf,
Healing wounds like a medicine,
Bringing back trust even when it is lost,
Finding the good in goodbye,
The end in friend and over in lover.

My life as a poet,
Sometimes I dream a lot,
Dreaming about the future,
Making me wish to pause the present,
So that I’d reminisce and sink my mind into my past.
My life as a poet has given me more sweat than sweetness,
So much work instead of resting,
A lot of battling than being triumphant,
Dozens of worries and tears than happiness,
Stressful minds instead of celebrations and achievements

Commentary by Oke Iroegbu

Njabulo writes subtly. Most of his work appeals to me. Each time I burrow through his work, I feel a vibe that only an African can relate to.

This poem tries to find the balance between life’s meaning and purpose. Poets are underrated. Their work not appreciated as other literary genres. The only beautiful thing is that it’s a citadel for many poets; it’s a safe ground on which poets stand to observe the world—some parts of this poem talks to me. Sometimes I’m lost in my world, my world of dreams and fantasies. I wake each time to reality, and it’s not always pleasant.

Well, I’m proud that Njabulo is giving a voice to Eswatini and Southern Africa through his artistic work.