From A Poet To Another -- An Ode To Ntate Keorapetse Kgositsile

"How is this moment meant to be archived -- neatly seated amongst memories and eulogies?"
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Poet to Poet

Strings of jazz to helmet

Life to death

Ntate, which moments here were fallible?

Which ones carried the "loudness of blind desire"?

What of the future of words?

Loneliness and poetry

Unrequited giving and years of beckoning light

What is all of it supposed to look like?

How are we meant to feel in the apocalypse of too many:

Ages,

Feelings,

Rhythms,

Cultures,

Births,

How is this moment meant to be archived -- neatly seated amongst memories and eulogies?

How did you keep up with the cycle -- bore the pain and sickle of words,

Showed up

Housed jubilant rage with a conviction to smile...

Your sons and swords

Your daughters' tears

Repetition and repercussions

Exile.

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Ntate, the present continues to be a very dangerous place to live in

Disenchantment and a plurality of breakings

Ineffable catastrophes that kill feint hearts

The urban stage has never been pro-truth

In fact,

The urban stage has killed too many poets

Poet to Poet,

For the sake of it all,

How did you out breathe most poets?

One day I asked you about black protest culture and secure spaces for rage

It was about jazz, Ntate

Poetry as Jazz and protest

Multilayered and multidimensional dissents,

This worded moment of struggle --

Four hemispheres and multiple lives.

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Poet to Poet,

Life and death

Confusion and... mostly confusion

Deep rivers and aching,

Ntate, melancholia is drumming rare grooves on hard bop and...

I am drawn to these things, Ntate

The parallels, Ntate,

The duos

An acidity

I am scared the ANC made you tired --

Broken promises and a never returning Azania.

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My heart is idle and to this day my relationship with words is slippery,

I am still a mere mortal whose hello is a whistle and

There is so much here.

Thus if this is really the end,

May my heartfelt, spirit led, love-driven gratitude find you

I hope grace covers you always.

There is a Wilhelm scream for beautiful black ancestors

May you please, kindly and always remember us.