Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Fool

Enlarge poem

I tell myself that there is something wrong with who I am.
My undesirability plays a vital role in why I cannot stand up for myself.
I can’t use metaphors or similes to describe because the pain I feel inside cannot be compared nor contrasted by the use of calmed words.
Days upon days, I fill my head with thoughts of a better tomorrow.
Then awful memories seep through the cracks of my esteem replacing it with sorrow.
She’s the type to wine and dine you and make you forget that it was just a day ago she made you feel as useless as your indigo shirt.
That is was just a day ago she’d ruined your world.
And you considering leaving, which she insisted you do but you refusing because she’s got such a hold on you.
Lest we forget how I would be smiling and of course wanting to share it with my equal, I instead receive the type of verbal abuse to make one wish for another muse.
I suppose it was better than no replies because I remember her telling me that there aren’t any sunny skies without dark clouds.
As the conversation intensified, I realised how toxic our union aroused negativity.
I pack my bags with the idea of leaving this time and there you are kneeling by the door with tears in your eyes.
It kills me inside to see you that way and you’re aware that it’s the only way for me to stay.
And I still stay.
My friends ask my why I continue to weigh my days and I quickly snap and say “you cannot understand! I promised to love her til I die.”
“Even if she’s the one standing in between you and the grim reaper?” they asked.
I paused for a moment as a tear escaped my eyelids and a worn out “yes” escaped my lips.
She’s the type to wine and dine you and make you forget how it was just a day before she talked to another girl and had the nerve to demand you spectate.
Thinking it’s already too late, she asks you why you’re getting worked up and killing her vibe on some “baby, don’t stop my shine”
Remembering her negative words of “you’re not worth it” have planted themselves in my garden.
Seeds germinating being grown by negativity shall be pardoned.
Stop rolling the cameras and making a mockery of my actions.
My life stopped being interesting when it turned into a bowl of sympathy.
Days passed by when I started feeling more powerless than the bluetooth option on an iPhone 5.
Once upon a time, I wished at least to sip from Jesus’ fine wine.
I don’t think you guys understand that I tattooed this girl’s name on my chest,
Thinking that what we had would last,
Hoping that we would be together forever,
Until I realised that our relationship was a shame of the weather.
My heart shattered into millions of puzzle pieces that I hope one day someone worthy will pick and piece them up.
My hands became heavy and sweaty and steady I fell on my knees and screamed an opera that made my ears bleed love.
I am here now, sharing this poem.
A few lines of my story of how I thought I could make perfect poetry with someone who can’t even read my thoughts.
I concur, leaving this here quite distraught.

Tlotlo Candice Kenalemang

Featured Poem:

I Sin I Leave I Live

Enlarge poem

Imagine a woman.
As far as crushed diamonds go, a woman can only be so fine.
But, what is a woman?
Some cradle their real emotions and kiss bodies that don’t touch the ground.
Every bottled emotion meets a date it will see freedom.
Imagine a woman I have met.
Waiting for midnight to shed the layer she had before.
Women who shred fire.
Imagine another woman I have met.
A failed empire that manages to give hope.
A failed empire that doesn’t acknowledge what she has sowed.
A filed empire I tried to revive.
I realized that if I didn’t play along, she would notice my weaknesses.
Another situation of me getting what my body craved.
I learn nothing from this other woman.
Dragging lines longer than my patience.
She does this every time she remembers the echo of the man she swore her soul to.
I know this about her because I was once this other woman.
Now, I watch both women live longer than wine.
I Sin, I Leave, I Live.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (3)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (1)
  • Anger (1)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (0)
  • Reflection (1)
  • Captivation (1)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (2)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (1)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Comments

  1. ‘Women who shred fire,’ there is power in your poetry. I appreciate your voice and how you deliver your poetry. So eloquent.

    Thank you

    Mmakgosi

Your email address will not be published.

Biography

Tlotlo Candice Kenalemang was born in Gaborone, Botswana. She grew up in Molepolole but lived most of her teenage years in Abuja, Nigeria. She started writing lyrics for songs and later after something traumatic happened she started writing poetry, short stories and long stories. Her poetry is all based on her experiences and she tries to write as often as possible.

Tlotlo Candice Kenalemang

Biography

Tlotlo Candice Kenalemang was born in Gaborone, Botswana. She grew up in Molepolole but lived most of her teenage years in Abuja, Nigeria. She started writing lyrics for songs and later after something traumatic happened she started writing poetry, short stories and long stories. Her poetry is all based on her experiences and she tries to write as often as possible.

Fool

Enlarge poem

I tell myself that there is something wrong with who I am.
My undesirability plays a vital role in why I cannot stand up for myself.
I can’t use metaphors or similes to describe because the pain I feel inside cannot be compared nor contrasted by the use of calmed words.
Days upon days, I fill my head with thoughts of a better tomorrow.
Then awful memories seep through the cracks of my esteem replacing it with sorrow.
She’s the type to wine and dine you and make you forget that it was just a day ago she made you feel as useless as your indigo shirt.
That is was just a day ago she’d ruined your world.
And you considering leaving, which she insisted you do but you refusing because she’s got such a hold on you.
Lest we forget how I would be smiling and of course wanting to share it with my equal, I instead receive the type of verbal abuse to make one wish for another muse.
I suppose it was better than no replies because I remember her telling me that there aren’t any sunny skies without dark clouds.
As the conversation intensified, I realised how toxic our union aroused negativity.
I pack my bags with the idea of leaving this time and there you are kneeling by the door with tears in your eyes.
It kills me inside to see you that way and you’re aware that it’s the only way for me to stay.
And I still stay.
My friends ask my why I continue to weigh my days and I quickly snap and say “you cannot understand! I promised to love her til I die.”
“Even if she’s the one standing in between you and the grim reaper?” they asked.
I paused for a moment as a tear escaped my eyelids and a worn out “yes” escaped my lips.
She’s the type to wine and dine you and make you forget how it was just a day before she talked to another girl and had the nerve to demand you spectate.
Thinking it’s already too late, she asks you why you’re getting worked up and killing her vibe on some “baby, don’t stop my shine”
Remembering her negative words of “you’re not worth it” have planted themselves in my garden.
Seeds germinating being grown by negativity shall be pardoned.
Stop rolling the cameras and making a mockery of my actions.
My life stopped being interesting when it turned into a bowl of sympathy.
Days passed by when I started feeling more powerless than the bluetooth option on an iPhone 5.
Once upon a time, I wished at least to sip from Jesus’ fine wine.
I don’t think you guys understand that I tattooed this girl’s name on my chest,
Thinking that what we had would last,
Hoping that we would be together forever,
Until I realised that our relationship was a shame of the weather.
My heart shattered into millions of puzzle pieces that I hope one day someone worthy will pick and piece them up.
My hands became heavy and sweaty and steady I fell on my knees and screamed an opera that made my ears bleed love.
I am here now, sharing this poem.
A few lines of my story of how I thought I could make perfect poetry with someone who can’t even read my thoughts.
I concur, leaving this here quite distraught.

Featured Poem:

I Sin I Leave I Live

Enlarge poem

Imagine a woman.
As far as crushed diamonds go, a woman can only be so fine.
But, what is a woman?
Some cradle their real emotions and kiss bodies that don’t touch the ground.
Every bottled emotion meets a date it will see freedom.
Imagine a woman I have met.
Waiting for midnight to shed the layer she had before.
Women who shred fire.
Imagine another woman I have met.
A failed empire that manages to give hope.
A failed empire that doesn’t acknowledge what she has sowed.
A filed empire I tried to revive.
I realized that if I didn’t play along, she would notice my weaknesses.
Another situation of me getting what my body craved.
I learn nothing from this other woman.
Dragging lines longer than my patience.
She does this every time she remembers the echo of the man she swore her soul to.
I know this about her because I was once this other woman.
Now, I watch both women live longer than wine.
I Sin, I Leave, I Live.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (3)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (1)
  • Anger (1)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (0)
  • Reflection (1)
  • Captivation (1)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (2)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (1)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Fool

Enlarge poem

I tell myself that there is something wrong with who I am.
My undesirability plays a vital role in why I cannot stand up for myself.
I can’t use metaphors or similes to describe because the pain I feel inside cannot be compared nor contrasted by the use of calmed words.
Days upon days, I fill my head with thoughts of a better tomorrow.
Then awful memories seep through the cracks of my esteem replacing it with sorrow.
She’s the type to wine and dine you and make you forget that it was just a day ago she made you feel as useless as your indigo shirt.
That is was just a day ago she’d ruined your world.
And you considering leaving, which she insisted you do but you refusing because she’s got such a hold on you.
Lest we forget how I would be smiling and of course wanting to share it with my equal, I instead receive the type of verbal abuse to make one wish for another muse.
I suppose it was better than no replies because I remember her telling me that there aren’t any sunny skies without dark clouds.
As the conversation intensified, I realised how toxic our union aroused negativity.
I pack my bags with the idea of leaving this time and there you are kneeling by the door with tears in your eyes.
It kills me inside to see you that way and you’re aware that it’s the only way for me to stay.
And I still stay.
My friends ask my why I continue to weigh my days and I quickly snap and say “you cannot understand! I promised to love her til I die.”
“Even if she’s the one standing in between you and the grim reaper?” they asked.
I paused for a moment as a tear escaped my eyelids and a worn out “yes” escaped my lips.
She’s the type to wine and dine you and make you forget how it was just a day before she talked to another girl and had the nerve to demand you spectate.
Thinking it’s already too late, she asks you why you’re getting worked up and killing her vibe on some “baby, don’t stop my shine”
Remembering her negative words of “you’re not worth it” have planted themselves in my garden.
Seeds germinating being grown by negativity shall be pardoned.
Stop rolling the cameras and making a mockery of my actions.
My life stopped being interesting when it turned into a bowl of sympathy.
Days passed by when I started feeling more powerless than the bluetooth option on an iPhone 5.
Once upon a time, I wished at least to sip from Jesus’ fine wine.
I don’t think you guys understand that I tattooed this girl’s name on my chest,
Thinking that what we had would last,
Hoping that we would be together forever,
Until I realised that our relationship was a shame of the weather.
My heart shattered into millions of puzzle pieces that I hope one day someone worthy will pick and piece them up.
My hands became heavy and sweaty and steady I fell on my knees and screamed an opera that made my ears bleed love.
I am here now, sharing this poem.
A few lines of my story of how I thought I could make perfect poetry with someone who can’t even read my thoughts.
I concur, leaving this here quite distraught.

Comments

  1. ‘Women who shred fire,’ there is power in your poetry. I appreciate your voice and how you deliver your poetry. So eloquent.

    Thank you

    Mmakgosi

Your email address will not be published.