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No Sex For Priests

The horse in harness suffers.
He's not feeling up to snuff.

The feeler's sensate but the cook
pronounces lobsters tough.

The chain's too short: the dog's at pains
to reach a sheaf of shade. One half a squirrel's

whirling there, upon the Interstate. That ruff
around the monkey's eye is cancer. Only God's

impervious he's deaf and blind. Be he's
not dumb: the answer for it all, his spokesmen

aren't allowed to come.
© Heather McHugh
[source...]

Morungwa (Jonas Gwangwa)

When Mandela smiles...

Zim poets’ contribution

The work of Zimbabwean poets John Eppel, Julius Chingono and Mgcini Nyoni has been recognized by the inclusion of their work in Fire in the Soul: 100 Poems for Human Rights, published by New Internationalist, with the support of Amnesty International.

Each of the three poets was published last year by Bulawayo publishers ’amaBooks. There are a hundred poems in Fire in the Soul from a hundred different poets from across the world, published from the beginning of the twentieth century until today. Other poets featured in the collection include Ken Saro-Wiwa, Margaret Atwood, Rita Ann Higgins, Luis Enrique Mejía Godoy and Pablo Neruda.

The Director of Amnesty International UK, Kate Allen, said:
“These poems have grown out of horrifying circumstances, yet they succeed in being a heart-warming testament to the resilience and creativity of the human spirit.”
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M'bifo (Rokia Traoré)

The Burt Award or African Literature

BURT AWARD FOR AFRICAN LITERATURE: CODE and the Ghana Book Trust have the pleasure to invite Ghanaian authors to take part in a writing competition to produce engaging and educational stories for the youth (12-15 years old) that will be published through the Burt Award.

The Burt Award for African Literature is a newly created award programme that honours and supports...
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Kurima (Chiwoniso)

Fun

Commuting brings the
Funniest out of the human animal
F or M. Long faces, face 2 face,
Some buried in books, some buried
In press rags, some just buried.
Shifting in our seats, sore.
Shifting from seat 2 seat,
Looking like sugar cane thieves
Looking not to be caught in the act.
Looking for gender rights, no wrongs
Looking not to be singled
Out for the gaze of ostracism's foul
Pitch, stitched up by a "decent" mob.
Gender has no right or wrong bombs
The human animal made some though.
Looking, looking, looting, looting
Each other until frenetic fright
Taught us to give in to daily terrors.
We allowed ourselves to be defined,
We lost our initiative, accepting absence.
We die slow deaths judging each
Other to death before our time is up.
That's all we do! Scared still we
Settle into narrow lives with
Once upon a time jobs for life to raise
Others just the same as us, ad infinitum!
That became the order of things. No more
Freedoms from cradle to grave; servitude
Is all or falling by the way side, falling by,
Falling by, falling by…
© Mia Nikasimo (Sept '09)

Soul Makossa (Manu Dibango)

MANU DIBANGO_SOUL MAKOSSA @ Yahoo! Video

Khumbaya (Soweto Gospel Choir)

To Mbera

Souls are squeezed from moss-free rock
And men from souls—

You, to whom
I wish a turquoise sky
That beguiles some who die
Onto a cloud to lay their head,
Aren’t made of chalk.

So what if the boy takes this room
The way he does, wearing your poise
Like a model on a dais—
We will have lived fast and strong
You&I, from our past so long,
Into this grave goodbye.

Moussoulou (Salif Keita)

Appeal for help

Kimesha Walters, Gleaner Writer

Dennis Hall, who is suffering from a rare form of cancer, has appealed for assistance. - Contributed

Once an active, independent man, Dennis Hall now lives a life of restricted movement, relying on family members to assist him to carry out basic functions.

Hall, an entrepreneur, was diagnosed with glioblastoma multiforme cancer in June. Life as he knew it has completely changed. He has been taking eight pain-killers per day, along with other medication. To add to his distress, Hall said he is affected by bouts of vomiting, because of digestion problems.

In an interview with The Gleaner recently, Hall sat in one place, the left side of his body drooping heavily.

Rising from his chair was a painful exercise as his partner, Andria Jones, had to lift him.

"Right now... excruciating head-ache," he said repeatedly, as he slowly shook his head from side to side, groaning rhythmically at times.

Despite his circumstances, Hall has not allowed his sickness to break his spirits.

"I am not afraid of challenges," he said, his eyes oozing with confidence.

"Challenges only make you stronger when you face them head-on," he added.

Jones agrees that Hall has been maintaining high spirits.

"In sickness, out of sickness, Dennis is always trying to be happy and make ev-erybody else around him happy, so that part hasn't changed."

But while Jones is happy that Hall has not changed much, she is still struggling to come to grips with the drastic change that has affected their lives.

"Life was normal and happy but since the cancer, it's like everything just spiralling around, and I have to keep wondering, 'Why it have to happen to him because I'm used to him being up and going'," she said.

Hall is father to five girls, two of whom were adopted, but his financial resources have been dwindling because of his many visits to the doctor. As a result, he is seeking financial assistance from the public in order to get chemotherapy and radiation treatment, as the treatment could cost over $1.7 million. Hall says his doctors told him that a surgery should not be done, as this might leave him in a vegetative state.

Hale-hearty individual

Former Public Defender Howard Hamilton has agreed to be one of the signatories of any fund that is set up to assist Hall.

"When I met him he was a hale-hearty individual and I am astounded by the fast deterioration in his health. When I last saw him, he couldn't walk," said Hamilton.

Amid his pain, Hall reinforced his belief in the Almighty.

"Prayer moves mountains and I believe in it," he said. "I am not only asking for assistance financially."

kimesha.walters@gleanerjm.com

Yebo! (Mahotella Queens and Art of Noise)

Asimbonanga (Johnny Clegg)

An Evening of Poetry

Yusef Komunyakaa, a Pulitzer Prize-winner for poetry, will read from his work on Wednesday, Sept. 30, at 7:30 p.m., in the Campus Center Ballroom at the University of West Georgia. Komunyakaa is the author of numerous books of poems with his most recent collection released in September 2008.

The reading is free to students, faculty, staff and the wider community.This event is co-sponsored by the department of English and Philosophy, the Honor Society of Phi Kappa Phi, the Office of Institutional Diversity, Ingram Library’s Penelope Melson Society and the Creative Writing Program.

Copies of the author’s numerous books will be available for purchase at the reading, and a book signing will follow.

For more information, contact Jonette Larrew at (678) 839-6512.
[source...]

Patrick Swayze (RIP)

Bullet The Blue Sky (Vieux Farka Touré)

What's a nine night?

Find out: An elderly Jamaican man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Jamaican pastry, Gizzada, wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs. With labored breath, he leaned against the doorframe, gazing into the kitchen.
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Joala (Tshepo Tshola)

Undecided (Youssou N'Dour)

Sad Song (fa fa fa)

Getting a collection of poems published

Advice to poets on getting a collection of poems published
September 8th, 2009 by Colleen

I get a lot of emails and questions about how to get a book of poetry published. Firstly not many publishers do it. (That is publish poetry). It is not financially a sensible thing to do. So as a poet think about it from the publisher’s point of view for a minute.

You don’t stand a chance of getting you collection published unless you have a name as a poet, or are a well known writer who also writes poetry. Or you are a well known rugby player or have some other claim to fame and also write poetry. So how do you become a more established poet wihout having a collection?

1. Buy and read the work of poets who have had their work published. Do this regularly. See what is hot and happening. Subscribe to at least one literary magazine.

2. Attend live poetry readings - Off the Wall in Cape Town, launches and readings. Poetry Africa in Durbs. Jozi Spoken Word Festival.

3. Send your work to the literary magazines. Google the following names - New Coin, Litnet, New Contrast, Carapace. As far as I know Gary Cummiskey of Green Dragon invites submissions from particular writers and doesn’t have an open submission policy. There are other literary magazines and perhaps those who are reading the blog can add names and thoughts.

4. Before you submit your collection to a publisher - ask a published poet whose work you like/admire to read your book. You will have to pay them to read your ms and tell you if it is publishable. You could do a Creative Writing course either at a university or a short course. Get feedback on your poems.

5. When you have reached this stage, I can recommend people to edit your work (once again you will have to pay for this). It will cost about R2000 or so - Sept 2009.

6. If you can say Yes, to all the above steps, then you need to go through your collection and choose the ones that fit together in some way. A first collection that will comfortably be published as a thin volume, needs to be about 56 or 64 pages. But remember that the book will be typeset and remember that you need at least 7 or 8 pages for front matter and end matter.
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Canopic Jar 23 is out!

What I Should Have Done

I should have cut a hole in the ceiling
to let my prayers out, words
like smoke from incense pots,
unable to rise above that bloody altar.
Look: here is where you should have slept,
your ear only an inch above my heart.
See: this field of stars above the watchtower
that we might have counted, bye and bye.
Now the sky is full of dark matter,
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One of my favourite poems paraphrased

My father got up early on Sundays and got dressed in the dark cold. He worked hard and had cracked hands on the weekdays from working hard. He made a fire but no one thanked him for it.

I would wake up to him making the fire and the wood cracking and breaking.
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Check out the poem here