Against All Odds: 50 Years Later.

Against All Odds: 50 Years Later.

The stark ambry eye of heaven
Shines gloriously upon her dull semi-desert sands.

So they thought it cheap redemption

That a certain Okavango Delta

Stands somewhat boldly over her

Dry dunes of the Kgalagadi.

But “still waters run deep”, they say;

“Never judge a book by its cover”, right?
As if ironically though, deep down

In the womb of her presumed

Barren and impotent land,

Lies covered a treasure

So full of lustre it proclaimed

The bright future of a whole nation.

At the core of her belly,

In her very essence

She bears pint sized blessings,

Glorious little gem stones

Otherwise known to many as


Shiny small rocks that have fed

This nation for decades,

Nurtured a blessed people

And secured a rich history for them.
Botswana, land of my father.
She is survivor and saviour,

Protester and protector.

She is my motherland,

Bearer of precious diamonds

Both mineral and liberal gems.

We still stand

United and Proud.



From Ashes

​Will you halt my pulse

And hold my heart.

I need time

To fit my faith on right;

Like a glove.


Hold my breathe for me

While I have a minute.

Dim my lights

Blind me like Paul,

Drape the windows

To my sight, and

Feed me an empty


Empty the pockets

Of my harloting ears,

Transmit silence into

Their muddy paths.

But at the very peak

Of that potent darkness

Fan your flame

In my promiscuous


Burn it, burn it!

And from ashes

Mould me anew

Into dazzlingly bright

Salt crystals like stars

That light up the earth.


Complaints, strain and pain
All decay with time.
Abstain from temporary gains,
The easy come easy go; and
Practise restraint.

Walk boldly with faith
Trusting in Him:
The Creator of all
The bees and the seas
The big and small.

When your heart and thoughts
Are finally rooted in Him,
He will shepard your soul
Through all the stress and worry
And you will know,
Throughout your journey
Contentment is your buddy.


She told me that she liked me!
So she drew me in to feel a great deal
Of emotions that never healed
Even after she broke my heart and left me.
And yet she told me that she liked me.

The walls of her broken heart would never
Let me in to break bread cordially
Even after she shared a bed with me.
The coitus was great
The emotional-tax I’d pay
was even greater.
You’d think that being a before-tax spender
Would set you up for great splendour
But it only set my heart up for torturous slander,
But still, she told me tht she liked me!

You see I felt bad for her because
She had had her heart broken
By a bad boy boyfriend
That I never even knew.
So I tried to pick the pieces
But they’d only prick and pierce me,
Not realising that I too would end up hurting
‘Cause I was blind and smitten.

But she told me that she “liked” me,
And that was enough for me
To love her even more
The merger-ment of our hearts
Was ever so small.
So I guess the,
Volume of her love for me was never,
Sound enough to me ’cause I had never,
Heard her telling me, that she “loved” me.
And that is why you can’t ever
Make a broken heart whole,
‘Cause once a broken heart has gone cold,
It’s gone cold, forever.

Emotional Stimulus Package (ESP).

Ill economies of scale in this game have defiled and defied true love
They have lost and cost us, confused and confined us to illusion.
An increasing output of love cannot be produced with a receding emotional investment.
There’s no opportunity cost in the game of love, just opportunities lost,
For those whose emotional defecit derives from miscalculated risk.
And this
This is your Emotional Stimulus Package, to help you manage your assets for a longer and lasting investment.