A Castle In Protea Hotel

Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye.

Hellen Keller

It was a beautiful Saturday morning

The sun in the sky was having fun shining in the east and the birds in the trees, where singing a song to which I did not know the tune to because no one chose to give me a warning of the skill that will be on display at the premises of Protea Hotel on the 26^th of October 2019 at the inaugural NUST Individual Chess Championships.

Thinking that I was the best, I walked a mile with a smile from my place of rest thinking that I’d win.

But now I know what a blunder this was as by the end of the third round, I discovered that I could not find where my smile had gone even if you gave me a compass or a GPS.

The tournament proceeded smoothly from between the wee hours of 08am to 05pm, and it was during these hours that players squared off against one another in order to test their tactics against each other.

Clifton
thinking hard about his next move.

Although it was quite competitive and intense, it was fun because even though some of us did lose a piece and later the game (which threatened to derail our ambitions of being victors), we still shook hands to show our peace.

Plenty players participated in this tournament, all of us hoping to lift the trophy that will tell a story of how we walked through hell on our way to victory. But unfortunately, there could always only be one winner. Although we were none of us fools for we all had gone to school; some among us were better prepared to use their minds as a tool in defeating their opponents.

In the ladies section my hands had to clap for Ms. Mari-Anne Fillemon who scooped third place in only her first ever tournament as well as the lovely Vaua who captured second place with her brilliant brand of chess play. In the gentlemen’s section, my hat went off to hail for Mr. Dudley Noroseb who had a slower start to the tournament then a snail but still managed to sneak into third place. Also, my congratulations have to go to Alan Matheus who beat me on his way to securing the second podium place.

From left to right
Maria, 1st place winner
Vaua, 2nd place
Mari-Anne, 3rd place

But when all was said and done; we all had to bow down and swear fealty to the King and Queen of chess at NUST, Mr. Philip Mootseng and Ms. Maria Niilenge who sat behind the walls of their castle, pretty on their first place thrones.

From left to right
Alan, 2nd place
Philip, 1st place
Simon, 3rd place (joint with Dudley)

All in all, regardless of the losses that made me check to make sure whether in the future I will still play chess; it was a well-organized tournament and I thoroughly enjoyed myself and I’m sure everyone else did as well.

Showing my respects to the winners by putting my hands together

Lazarus Shatipamba

Buy me a pen and paper?

Now Accepting Donations

You never cross the ocean unless you have courage to lose sight of the shore.

Christopher Columbus

Greetings

You poetry lovers out there that have supported my blog straight from its infancy till now when it’s a toddler, still crawling on its knees and legs.

Allow me

To thank you for all the support you have shown me throughout this journey of self-discovery through poetry.

It’s only been half a year

And yet i feel as though i have known many of you my entire life.

I can’t even begin to put into words substantial enough to convey, the exact level of the feeling of gratitude in my heart towards you for the positive attitude you’ve directed towards me.

I started this blog

When i was flying high in the sky like a bird.

But a few months after it’s inception, i fell from the sky like Icarus and my wings of optimism would surely have been melted if not for you.

I certainly don’t have a clue what might have transpired if you had never come into my life.

Most likely i would not be alive today, and so i say thanks to you if you’ve ever liked my posts, followed my blog or commented on my poetry.

I never would have made it here if i did not endeavor to post poetry on my blog; that seeks to inspire you not to tire when hard times batter your hopes for a better tomorrow, into a sire who’s ire has been raised.

I haven’t completely gotten back to my previous high heights but i’m no longer drowning in the deep depths of misery all thanks to the support you have shown me.

Because of this, i know many of you would be mighty pleased to help me get back to soaring up high in the skies. Which is why from now on, posts on my blog will contain a donation link to my pay-pal account.

Please, feel free to donate any amount that tickles your fancy, as i’m a beggar and i can never choose you loose all your cheese just to please me.

Also i have learn’t never to look a gift horse in the mouth so be secure in the knowledge that whatever amount you chose to give, i would be deeply grateful for.

Thanks in advance.

As mentioned, here is the donation link below

Buy me a pen and paper?

Tears That Try To Be Tough

The real secret of patience is to find something to do in the meantime.

---

We humans

Have been blessed by the Gods up high in the sky with a home as fertile and tranquil as our beautiful blue earth.

For many many many a millennia, our ancestors have never lived in fear that this world of ours will one day shed a tear because she fears she might not make it into the near future.

Yet how dear things appear to be now, the state of our current circumstance is as dire as a fighter losing his stance in an all important championship bout with an opponent ready to break his hip.

The rains have now developed an attitude so shy that they now try to stray as far away from us as possible, in aim to drown us in drought.

The once courageous clouds now cry whenever they have to fight smoke particles in the sky in contention for the right to rule the skies.

The sun is hotter than she is supposed to be, because she is so pissed at us for f**king up her husband – the earth.

Our oceans are rising up against this injustice of dumping waste into their depths, which makes me pray that i’m not here when things do get violent.

Whilst sitting behind my stool in the library trying not to appear a fool, i have sometimes wondered what it is has led to the overall drastic decline in the beauty and habitability of our home.

When was it that we decided to stop caring for our natural environment?

In the industrial revolution that so brought about our evolution on a technological scale, yet so endorsed the pollution of the air that we breathe, the water we drink and the soil we deeply sleep in when we rest at our time of death?

I can’t help but think how paradoxically detrimental it is that we kill our own environment in our efforts of living longer lives.

Even me,

I am not a bystander in this for many a time have i smoked a joint by the lake, just to take my thoughts of the conundrum we find ourselves in.

Will we manage to reduce and reverse the adverse effects of all our commercial activities or will i – just like the Earth right now – shed a tear because i will not be here if our beautiful blue earth is not here?

A Philosophical Poem about Beauty

Hey guys, hope you’re having a fantastic Friday.

I just wanted to take the time out to share a poem i wrote several months ago just when i started taking this poetry thing seriously.

The quality isn’t the greatest but i hope you enjoy it because i certainly do.

Here it is below

Friday Free Write

Failure and failure again is the secret ingredient to achieving the right level of success.

Mark Makhubalo

---

Have you ever

Heard the sound of passion call to you?

Like a naked lover

beckoning you into the warm, comfy sheets-

That make you forget about the deafening cold

That freezes our ears to render us unable to hear.

I have never really been able to hold firm

To all my convictions whilst listening to that lusty

Voice that sounds thirsty as the desert of the Namib

That walked across the plains of pain for far too long

She decided to simply embrace the pleasure of pure leisure.

Drinking my water as i bask in the spring weather

Nourished by the fresh fruit of the flowers

Who at the peak of their powers produce perfume

Who’s scent flows from them into the air

Right into my nostrils were they do not disturb but curb

Any ailments i might have had in regards to the bad smell in here.

the Rubbish Robber

People who are crazy enough to think they can change the World, are the ones who do.

Rob Siltanen

This is not a post about how I wow and dazzle the ladies with my charming ways.
It is not a post of my adventures as a naughty child.
Nor is it a post of how I became a poet in my city.

This is a post about the skill and finesse I had to deploy in order to rob the rubbish bin of its possessions.

It took me a little while to scope out the terrain, making sure there were no spying eyes on me.

That done, i proceeded to sneak up on my unsuspecting victim. I came in from the blindside, the bin never even saw me coming.

But it saw me going.
With a KFC plastic bag beneath my arm.

© The Poets Peace 2019

Musings from a lover lost his love.

Do not call the forest that shelters you a jungle.

So much has happened since last we saw each other
I am not the same boy who used to many a game play with you
Smiling in the wind blind to dangers that seek to grind our bones to dust.

So much has happened since last I held your hand.
Since they sent me off to war where I saw worn men and torn bodies
That inspire stomachs to release their contents.

Where victory tasted much the same as defeat
Yet we ate because if we didn’t eat our bodies will lose the heat
Needed to stay warm and alive in the burning winter.

Many winters we fought through were so cold
They turned bold men to boys wanting to hide beneath beds
Till the coming summer when all would be warmer.

When the summer came and home I went to see you my lover.
I found that much has happened since they sent me of to war
On that day when I last held your hands.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Buy me a pen and paper?