Monthly Archives: July 2011

~ A Simple Confession~

Soy yo, en fragmentos
yo en pedazos,
yo en partes
y algunos dias no soy yo para nada

(I am me in fragments, me in pieces, me in parts. And some days I am not me at all.)

Tagged , , , , , ,

~Poem: I found Myself In April~

I found myself in April.

owing the world everything ,and the stars the world.

I had nothing to show for the drenches I put my heart into and the holes I slept in at night.

The wilderness absorbed me, one and all.

I found myself in April

needing something I couldn’t have and loving someone who couldn’t love me.

There I was relying on little specks of faith

Life dashing right by me.

I found myself

A pile of unreasonable questions aligned at my door

and nothing to hold me to the ground.

Stacks of mail and all the signs of a life I wasn’t living.

All traces of me quickly fading

New air not settling.

Funny enough

I found myself exposed in my natural form,

emotions had finely caught up with me and there I was

a vague replica of the me I have always been inside.

And the mirror never lies.

The impostor seated in my seat

parading around with my bushy unkempt hair on their

head was in fact a me I had suppressed

A me I found in April.

by Upile Chisala

Tagged , , , ,

~Somebody asked me Why~

Somebody once asked me “Why do you write?”. Not the world-famous “When did you begin to write?” or “Who Inspired you?”. But this person walked up to me and asked me why I write. And they were dead serious, their eyes filled with determination. And I answered that question like the natural dreamer I am.

“I had something to say, so I opened my heart.I wanted to know how to say it so I put a pen in my hand and it all flowed out, knotted, tangled, twists of sense and reason and right.And my world, the one I see through these eyes alone was shared and scattered on paper.And I was  unraveled, unwoven.” Upile Chisala.

Just thought I would put this up for all the writers who have ever doubted themselves. Don’t. Life will hand you so many difficult situations where your dreams and your ambitions are taken to task. But you musn’t worry, you musn’t turn your backs on what you believe in. What you were given freely, your talent. If you have something your heart has always hungered for then don’t be afraid to take a risk for your fulfilment . Writing came to me, I never asked for it but there it was on my lap starring at me. Abraham Lincoln once said “Whatever you are be a good one”. God gave me the gift of writing so I intend on being a good writer. Whatever it is you are be a good one.

Happy Sunday everyone!!


Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Poem~The Blue-Gum Tree~

The Blue-Gum Tree

The tall blue-gum tree
covers me with a blanket
of lavender
as boughs sway in the wind
and leaves fall on me
I lay there put,
under my natural
and then i think
I dare to think
That this is when I’m
at my best
when pea-green caterpillars
climb and nap
upon my chest
when ladybirds dance on
my skin
and butterflies
kiss my shin
the grasshoppers, the hummingbirds,
the candy-scented bees,the leaping
crickets, the humble frogs
all come to say hello
and now I know
that life for me
is best under
the blue-gum tree.

by Upile Chisala

Tagged , , , , , ,

~Quotes about Peace~ Malawi is on my mind.

With the spell of chaos my country, Malawi, has been experiencing I just thought I would put post some quotes about Peace, peace that we once had and that isn’t too far from our reach. I pray each night for the situation in this country to improve, I pray for those who have lost their lives, I pray for our leaders to somehow come to a compromise with the people and that peace shall once again reign in the Warm Heart of Africa. Here are some quotes:

“If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.

If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.
If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbours.
If there is to be peace between neighbours,
There must be peace in the home.
If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.”
Lao Tzu (570-490 B.C.)

“Peace is not the product of terror or fear.
Peace is not the silence of cemeteries.
Peace is not the silent revolt of violent repression.
Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution
of all to the good of all.
Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity.
It is right and it is duty. ”
Bishop Oscar Romero (1917-1980)

“We look forward to the time when the Power of Love will replace the Love of Power. Then will our world know the blessings of peace.” ~William Ewart Gladstone

“Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace.”
Buddha (560-483 B.C.)

“Peace is the respect for the rights of others.” (El respeto al derecho ajeno es la paz ).
Benito Juarez (1806-1872)

“You can’t separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom.”Malcolm X (1925-1965)

“It isn’t enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn’t enough to believe in it. One must work at it.”Eleanor Roosevelt (1884-1962)

“Peace is always beautiful.”Walt Whitman (1819-1892)- Leaves of Grass

“If you want peace, work for justice.”Pope Paul VI (1897-1978)

“Peace and justice are two sides of the same coin” Dwight David Eisenhower

“Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the children of God.”
Matthew, V:9

“We seek peace, knowing that peace is the climate of freedom. ” Dwight D. Eisenhower

“You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist. ” Attributed to both Golda Meir and Indira Gandhi

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

~Poem-Good Men~

Good men.

They wear ties

and suits

And say “How do you do?”

“Nice to meet you”.

They wait in lines all day,


and Shopping-malls.

And sit in tiny chairs

in shared cubicles.

They hate their work

and bosses

but still smile and

say its the best job in the world.

Their hours are long

but only those awaiting their bacon

at home notice.

Their bosses scream when they are

minutes late

and pass up the chance to promote them.

They go home to those who await

the bacon of their labor.

Good men have good wives

with good smiles and good eyes.

“Let me take your coat dear”.

“Put your feet up my love”.

Good men have

perfectly good children

whom they house in perfectly good homes,

everything and everyone appears dandy.

But Good men are still men

and all men have secrets,

so when his good wife

tucks his good children down to sleep

he tells her he forgot something at work

she nods and gives her good smile

but they all know

that even a Good man like


has one less perk,

somewhere in the shadows

a mistress, a paramour, a lover


by Upile Chisala

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

~Poem of The Week- If by Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling



If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run –
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!

Tagged , , , , , ,

~I Leap High~

The World of Can’t and Nevers.

Am I the only one with faith in myself?

Do I swim in hope on my own?

Loving a life in a world made to turn hearts to stone

I climb the walls made of thick ‘Can’t’ Bricks

And take strolls down Never lane.

It never occurred to me that I walk these streets with

only the company of my shadow and my dreams.

Head up high,

Heart in place,

I run on Sunshine

And dance in that dirty rain.

Limits are just chalk lines

I play hopscotch in.

I walk

I run

I breathe

I say ‘Watch me’

I leap High.

by Upile Chisala.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Poem: A Welcome?

I never had a Welcome.

There she sat,

heart a’pounding

a million beats,

Sweating on placental

stained sheets,

A new life had climbed

down from inside


but did the gods gamble

this child’s for her own?

Would she soon be rising

to the stars and her maker?

Woman in tears,

they roll unstoppably

they roll down her color-flushed


Two generations screaming

One on the verge of it’s start

the other on the verge of it’s end

“But I haven’t touched you

yet, or even seen you smile”

She thinks amidst emotion

of the child bundled in

blankets of blood.

They knew each other

but never met,

The chain is broken

that once made them one

linking their souls,

Once made them connect.

They roll,

she weeps for her child

brand new,

And the pain building.

Her eyes, weak, but searching

past the nurses and machines

eyes following the trail of

a tiny newborn’s yelps,

The womb was her world

and now it was all unraveled

there was more beyond

that bodily cradle, more

past the layers of skin,

A world she was now a part of

A piece of

A tiny bundle of.

Why can’t they share this world?

Them two, mother and child.

God please let them share this world.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Poem: I loved for Myself

I loved for myself,

Me and my aged scars

That still felt like they were on the surface

Me and my drenched hair from too many

Times standing in that rain


for this man or that

To finally come back like he’d promised,

This time I loved for me

Me with my box of broken promises

Juxtapose to my jar of dreams unfulfilled,

I loved for the Me stagnant, stuck in the

Mirror looking at the face of misery

Wondering how long it would last this time.

I loved bestially this time,

With all that was left of the me who’d

Made the seat by the phone her bed


For this man or that

To finally get around to giving me

some of the love I’d given generously.

This once I loved for myself

For the Me that I once was unwillingly,

The one with a face smeared from good old


Me with the heavy heart despite its cracks,

Me with little inside left to keep gravity

From letting me go.

This time I loved for Me.

Me the broken

Me the shattered

Me the dreamless dreamer.

It took all and everything and much more

But this time

I loved for myself.





Tagged , , , , , ,