Editorial Note– This journal is a special one and it received contributions from Young and seasoned Poets from Nigeria , Zambia and Zimbabwe. Most of the poems in this special blog base on the value of water to human kind and the need to protect the precious gem called WATER. We have also featured to special poems on environment and conservation from Lusile from Zambia and Morset from Zimbabwe.We got all the images online thank in advance for all websites that helped with images. Thumbs Up to all contributors. We also need your support morally, technically and financial to grow our ClimateDiariesAfrica Project and this poets for water journal is the first one of its kind , more are coming with related themes for the advancement of environmental conservation , climate change , wildlife preservation and WATER.
Zimbabwe, this is my letter
Africa, must be better
We can dazzle and glitter
With food, clothing and shelter.
We need clean water
Now, today and later
Water is a necessity
Let us make it a priority.
Livestock and irrigation
Mankind and humanity
Growth and reproduction;
Life is a sacred deity.
The people, the movement
The goal, the government
The fight, the achievement
The legacy, the monument
By Ngozi Olivia Osuoha
The Precious gem
So dear to men is gold
So valuable to him are the diamonds
But without water he is nearer to his grave
Would he rather possess gold than water?
A precious gem bestowed upon mankind
Yet so precious
Without water he is nothing
Without water everything around him ceases to
Let us not pollute our water resources
We should maintain our ecosystem
By Jane Nkiwane
Once upon a time in a land not so far away,
A land which was enclosed by freshness in each and every way,
A land in which a breeze would blow and leaves would dance the night away,
There lived a friend who blessed many on each and every day.
This friend would visit fields and many would get their yield,
Everyone loved the presence of this friend whose scent transcends that which is locked in petals,
The land was as perfect as riding a bike with automatic pedals,
Like precious metals, he was treasured by everyone in the land,
He was everyone’s precious friend whose original form most of us don’t even remember,
But one day, people of the land turned against the faithful friend,
And as this happened, no one offered a helping hand,
No one stood by this friend to the end.”
Instead of pouring out their hearts to the betrayed friend,
Large corporations chose to pour out their industrial impurities,
Corporate social responsibility became a concept only confined to mission statements,
Now we have insecurities and we’re constantly trying to turn back the hands of time,
Because we now realize we destroyed that which we cannot rebuild,
Nature has been hurt by our actions; the field no longer produces its yield,
We destroyed our own shield and now we are vulnerable,
We fed impurities to the ozone and global warming became an inescapable reality,
Where do our priorities lie?
Shall we continue turning a blind eye to the destruction happening in our own skies?
Shall we make more profits whilst our own home dies?
Nature continues to struggle whilst we live in this consumerism bubble,
We got our own selves into this trouble,
So let’s act now before we find ours buried in our own rubble.
By Morest Billie.
Dew on the leaves shy away
Clouds are joined by unusual friends
Animals stampede to far of place
Ba ocha, baocha (they burn)
She opens her eyes the little girl
Smoke coming from down below
Consuming the rivers the very soul
Mother oh mother wake up
Your children are under attack
Visited by a predator
Consuming the land
Call the thorns from your virgin soils
Stir the anger of your sacred waterfalls
Gush out tears of disgust from the darkened skies
Baocha, impanga (the forest)
Remember when bees fed and not attacked
When air cured foreign perversion and not choked our lungs
Unleash your hands mother, save us
We know u have the power
We too will drop seeds to replace the ash
Whisper to our young to protect our land
Even though baocha they have just fertilized
Your blessed womb, mother nature (or Africa)By Luse Kaibele aka the Oracle
Water is my personal servant
I saw a river
Deep in its own chasm
Turning toward me
Running straight at me
Cascading through me
Aware of countless other rivers
I would reveal it to you in words
If it falls outside your yardsticks
Then you are dealing with water
The river adapts,
But the water creates
It employs you in awareness
Stirs your oars
By the way you think
But every first moon
Is stealing my water
I am beginning to hate water
Water is my personal servant
Through which I have moved
I can only sense myself in water.
To seed and grow stronger
The inner faces of sheer rivers
That I could not see-
Waters of their depths
But I know
The water is there
The earth knows it too
They would be night birds
Drawing damp shadows
Across the water
And on the embankment
Are creatures that lives on sunlight
In another world.
And if I put my ear
The earth speaks
With sounds of distant rapids
And when I dip to drink
They are ripples
Which the river takes away.
Even at this distance
I feel the rapids
Of the far away waters
Like something unrelenting
From my past
Disappearing inside me.
The rivers searches
To drink up raw earth
To seed and grow stronger.
BY Tendai R. Mwanaka
About the Water Poets
He is an internationally acclaimed new generation writer and poet . He is published in the following books and anthologies around the globe: Zimbabwe: The Urgency of Now (creative nonfiction), Finding a Way Home (stories novel), Revolution (poems), Democracy, Good Governance, and Development in Africa ( anthology of scholarly essays, co-editor), Best New African Poets 2015 Anthology (anthology of poetry, co-editor), Keys in the River (stories novel), Voices from Exile (poetry), Zimbabwe: The Blame Game (creative nonfiction), Playing to Love’s Gallery (poetry). Books coming out this year: Pearls of Awareness (poetry), A Dark Energy (full length novel), Experimental Writing: Volume 1, Africa Vs Latin America (bilingual anthology in Spanish and English, co-editor), Zimbolicious poetry (multilingual poetry anthology, co-editor), Language, thought, art and Existence (creative nonfiction), A Conversation, A Contact (flash pieces). He also works with photography, painting, drawing, collage, video, sound/musical art. Work has been published in over 400 journals in over 27 countries, translated into French, Shona, English, Germany and Spanish.
– is a new generation poet who has been around for a longtime though . He has perfomed his poetry around Zimbabwe on various platforms. Some of his poetry is published in the miombo Publishing Journal,www.miombopublishing.wordpress.com.
- is a budding poet . The poet has a good hand in writing and her pen spits literary richness. She is a force to reckon with in poetry and literary circle. The poet hails from Bulawayo. She is also published in miombopublishing and GirlchildVoices blog here in Zimbabwe.
Ngozi Olivia Osuoha
is a graduate of Estate Management from Nigeria. She is a passionate poet/writer. Has published many works online in Ghana, Canada, Liberia, USA, Trinidad and Tobago, Kenya, among others. The poet is very promising and she will also be featured in our next Journals.
Luse Kaibele aka the Oracle.
- have a livid passion for art and has also taken up film making and music. she is a band member of an outfit called Dimuba that has performed all over Zambia and Zimbabwe. I am also a peer educator/mentor and social worker. Currently she in charge of arts at the Alliance Franchaise of Lusaka.
– The Editor/Publisher of the ClimateDiariesAfrica,www.climatediariesafrica.tumblr.com- the think-tank publishing Climate , water and environmental issues. He is also the Manager /Editor/Publisher at MiomboPublishing. Mbizo Chirasha is the Founder of GirlchildCreativity Project . The Compiler and Administrator ofwww.persnalitiesofinspiration.wordpress.com. Mbizo is an acclaimed poet , Creative Communities Expert , BloggingEditor/Publisher . Currently Mbizo is a participant of Climate Tracker Writers Fellowship- a global Climate Writing Project.
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