POEM: Must travel

BY ABIGAIL GEORGE

(for my sister)

The day has
a mothlike quality to it. I make a cup of tea (always for one). Boil the
water in the
microwave oven while

old poems
make way for new poems. Once, I lived in grassroots country. Rural
countryside.
Mbabane, Swaziland.

(Boarding school). Slowly
my flesh is emptying out. Winter making way for spring’s milky sweetness,
summer’s pleasure and
waves of heat, autumn’s gift.

Slowly, I climb back
into their world. Standing in the sun sipping my cup of tea for one.
I sit and watch the
afternoon warming the page in front of me.

POEM: Insomiac’s Dreaming

BY CECILY CAMARA

I float through my kind of house
late at night.
I eat exotic foods
which does nothing for my cholesterol.

I travel to places of interest to me
where I meet a stinking rich, very
old man who gives me the time of my life.
In return I promise to spoil him to death.
That’s without even getting out of bed.

POEM: The Bitter-Sweet News

BY KWENZEKILE NTLATI

The doctor looked at me,
Smiled and said,
“You’re pregnant!”

Outside he waited.
In silence we walked to a nearby dingy coffee shop.
I ordered water.
He didn’t want anything.
‘Too much coffee while I waited’
He said nervously.
‘Doctor told you what’s wrong?’
‘I’m pregnant.’
I said flatly.
‘What?’ he asked cautiously.
‘I’m pregnant!’
I threw the words out carelessly,
the way the sea churns out dirt from its core.

Silence…
A stare.
And then slowly his lips parted
revealing a row of snow white straight teeth.
A smile I had fallen in love with
many years ago.

That night,
he held me so tenderly,
as tenderly as he had done in a time very distant from now.
But I knew that the tenderness
was not meant for me,
but for the part of him
growing inside me.