i've written a lot of poetry and half written a couple of novels. plus i've written three drum books (2 of them in the editing phase, one selling). here is a poem:
There stood a king on a far off hill,
A place the ‘Valley of the Thousand’ named,
In a time when antelope outnumbered man
And king George in distant England reigned.
His skin was darker than iron wood,
His flesh was hard as that wood in kind
And sharper than his terrible spear,
Were the battle workings of his mind.
In a leaf he saw the shape of a blade,
In a bull’s head he saw troop formation,
And so, from a subordinate tribe, he made
The Zulu such a mighty nation.
That others fled before his Impi
And even the gun-armed settlers were still.
Though nations lay between the Cape and his army,
The east wind scent was of fire and kill.
And for all his cruelty and swathe of war,
Without him the past would thunder darker.
The great beetle of nNandi’s bellyful of shame -
Lift ten thousand shields and cry: ‘SHAKA!’
Copyright © Jason Horsler