Africa, My Father

His eyes bleed from all the years he has held back his tears.

He wants to turn back the hands on life’s clock

But his hands have been weathered by verbal atrophia

From those who have time and time again whipped his soul

With self claimed expertise that has bathed him in salt puddles

Of fear that are rumoured to heal but eat up the left over

Manly confidence that his soul tries to suckle from for survival.

Image

Frank Malaba™ © 2012

Published by: Frank Malaba

Frank Malaba is an actor, playwright and a published poet. He was born in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe and currently resides in Cape Town, South Africa. He has performed on stage and television in both countries. He has a passion for using poetry, storytelling and theatre as a method of healing for both himself and others. His poetry has been presented both at home and abroad. Frank is currently developing a two-man play entitled “Broken Pathways” which will be touring internationally. In 2014 Frank was recognised by Mail & Guardian's 200 Young South Africans as an Achiever in the category of Arts & Culture.

Categories Poetry4 Comments

4 thoughts on “Africa, My Father”

  1. Your words reach to the very being of my soul. The wisdom and reality that are exposed in your writings is uplifting and give me hope for a better world where all are accepted as members of the human family regardless of religion, race, sexuality, etc… Thanks for sharing Frank…

    Like

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