Music Booth: Tracklist-Peter Mawanga's Paphiri ndi Padambo

Album Title: Paphiri ndi Padambo Artist         : Peter Mawanga and the Amaravi Movement Year of Release: 2011 Ku Malawi Kale Kale Paphiri ndi Padambo  N'tumeni Sunga Mwambo Feat. All Malawi Stars Samala Chilango Ngwalu Meditation Song Sangalimbe Usamulore Yesu ndi Khomo Feat. Moffat Mtegha

On Y.M.W Anthology

These letters, these words These paragraphs, these pages These chapters! These words, these lines These stanzas, these sonnets, These poems! These lines, these scenes These acts, these plays!

Sudden Memories: Nyamalikiti Nthiwatiwa

I had no idea then Who my Geography teacher was; A man I would not know his pseudonym For the better part Of his stay at Chichiri Secondary School ‘ It’s like asking the difference Between fertilizer and a coupon’ I recall him alluding to, in one

Love, Desire and Pain

LOVE, DESIRE AND PAIN By Rodger Millar Munthali Shame engraves Satan, His deeds awfully craved, yet desolate; peculiarly Heathen, let alone ascetic; for that, Behind doors closed, inconspicuously, Audible becomes the knell, amidst Catapulted preaching augmented by Thunderous hymns that Neither summons nor appreciates Satan’s existence, For what cannot or refrain God’s love The great omnificent ruler In grave daylight, Satan’s death proclaimed Escorted in a single file, towards ‘Where none but Jesus Christ has returned’ To sing a song of victory and hope None can surpass, Genesis Thirty Seven; Desire’s persuasion, on Potiphar’s Wife’s Bed; accomplices glutton, graspingness; What can suppress desire, Satan’s Mortal spear? That Joseph, none Knows his flight source, in dire nothingness, Temptation and Pain, himself devoid of That which has brought pain, worse than plagues; Fear, better than of God; hence in Taught tautology, our mouths agape W


A GHOST OF NO FACE By Rodger Millar Munthali Though he is faceless It has incessantly been rumored That his eyelids are colorless With the nose partly punched The legs seem to originate From somewhere near the neck This serves to speculate That he has no back He groans and moans While conjuring with his magical charms A series of disgusting snakes Contemplating inhumanity He devours human flesh Though no mouth we eye But rather a reddened mesh Must be blood or a cursed dye Anything is magically embellished About this poor ghost Alone and abandoned Avoiding the dreaded ghost forest


AFRICA IS A CHEST OF DRAWERS Africa is indeed a highboy: a big chest of drawers of varying size, each Drawer so big and indeed provoking, treacherous size and ‘dark’ Thoughts, Provokingly insane is every drawer, so tough in Thoughts ‘dark’ you would gun the insane handle Of each drawer. But you are a mere constitute of one drawer, You are not the handle, what best can you do than Whisper in tears of blood, tears that dry the instance they exit The eye, whispers so mere That they are almost nonexistent. Now this Is the biggest problem: all the drawers are open, ready to receive blessings From above. A problem indeed. Drawers so open that only the spreading receive blessings, open that the Bottom drawers rot in need, no blessing they grasp. I know. I know what we need, a powerful weapon, so Big we need. To perforate every insane drawer, puncture every drawer, Bring down every handle, gun every Greedy handle so that even if the top ones are to