A Journey’s Carriage

By Owen Matjila

Owen Matjila has authored a unique collection of poetry that defies classification. Conscious of characteristics of different poetic genres, past and present, he has carved an individual style that respects but breaks from known conventions.

The language of the poetry traverses backward and forward through known uses of the English language. Linguistically erudite and richly stylistic, some poems and words in them are annotated with an explanatory glossary opening a window to deepening meanings below surface encounters of their reading.

Pertinently pious, with a hint of philosophy and passionately explorative of a plethora of subjects, the themes of the poems are steeped in all manner of contemporary and timeless moral, political and social issues of our society and mankind in general. Endearing to both the studious and ordinary interest, the poems are worthy of every kind of reader on all sides of the intellectual spectrum.

Owen Matjila is a South African political and social activist from his earlier days. He holds a BA (History & Political Science) and an LL.B from the University of the Western Cape (SA).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Owen Matjila
• Release date: Aug 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463508541

Book preview

Foreword

A while ago, my brother, the erudite Advocate Owen Mametse Matjila, informed me of a book he was authoring. As he always had a boundless and insatiable passion for writing and poetry, this book would represent the pinnacle of a collection of poems he had been writing over the years. I consider myself enormously fortunate as I would occasionally have the rare privilege and delight of previewing some of his works, Mjonaise he would exclaim, what do you think?.

The themes of his verses are diverse and genuinely embody his lifetime journey ranging from maternal and paternal dedications, political attributes, encounters of love, spirituality, nature and even death. A Journey’s Carriage is a profound yet delightful voyage of his personal experiences - for which we remain an eternally fortunate audience.

This foreword, as betrayed by the material on which it is notated, was penned upon his completion of the book and promptly after his transition from this world to another. I must confess that I bear the sole responsibility for its late inclusion, as he previously made countless requests for its forwarding – for which I hope he forgives.

The profundity and erudition of his prose will most certainly be relished by those immersed in the depths of poetry and language but will simultaneously provide resourceful material for those in the initial stages of their acquisition. It is with firm conviction and knowledge that this immense contribution and gift to humanity will transcend generations and remain but one of the indelible footprints of his gracious presence on this earth.

I speak for the rest of the family when I say;

"Ke leru’ru’ la ramoswanyana Matjila, kgomo mpolokeng ke na’ molemo; thlang

kgomo tsa’ka le tsaya ka tsona basadi, e bile le mokgopa wa’ka wa pula le ao apara.

Bare ba’ Matlala phuthang di namane ka manamakgote, gonne Sabata se se, Sebata

se rwaleletse morwalo Thibedi; se lebile kwa tenyana teng; ke setlogolo sa’ Phokedi

nywana’ Legabe la’ Masakane, thlako ya Rra Lenakana, Mmankgane a’ lenku le

Mmathari a’ Mametse, banya mafura a mothloiwana a basa’ tloleng, baa tlotsa

badidi bang; bare mamanthane oa apeileng ka pitsa e kgolo, aa’ o tla ntsholela mo

mogotswaneng wa Manthane kwa Matjila a’ Selope; ke motho wa bo Mpono nnaka

ke ago rapela, esere’ o disa dikgomo tsa Nkatsweng a’ mosongwana, wano tlho’o

megana melala o re tau yame etla katlwa ke mang, etswe e tla kwatlwa ke baitse go

katla; Kwa Matjila a’ Selope."

Robala ka kgotso Matjila

Rest in eternal peace my brother.

Mushi a’ Tagane

Prof. Mushi Matjila

Contents

Foreword

Author’s Note

Acknowledgements

1. If I Could Swallow A Man In Whole

2. The Patriarch’s Arrival

3. Last Fall

4. Revolutionary Patter

5. Mater

6. Insomnia in Kaama*

7. The Leper and the Cripple

8. On His Memory

9. When I Return Home

10. Warmly Clasp

11. Inner Fears

12. Crucibles of Faith

13. Serf and Lord

14. Old Words

15. Pride of Many Colours

16. High Tides Subside

17. Womb of a Hard Birth Delivered

18. The Warm Soldier

19. Grief

20. Happiness

21. Life’s Extracts

22. Ill-fated adventure

23. Seekers

24. Natural Pulses

25. Lealleth

26. The Puerile Celebrant

27. Turbine of Reason

28. Son of the Ever-Present Maker

29. Womenfolk

30. A Journey’s Carriage

31. Moonlight, her New Moon Bloom

32. Death

33. Naked Summer

34. I Flew a Kite

35. Redeemer

36. Innovations of Man

37. The Water-Pit

38. I Have Witness

39. A Good Conscience

40. Our Humble

41. Sweet Dreams

42. Back each Clamour

43. Bagatelle

44. All that one could since hear

45. Jolly Night

46. Songstress

47. One Building-block

48. Light Years of Elegance

49. Passion

50. Rash Adolescence

51. A Midwife’s Handy Glove

52. Prodigal Son

53. Chapter VI

54. Wheel and Rail

55. Fires

56. Sunshine

57. Worry Not

58. John

59. Noble Mrs. Attrigde

60. Banished Underground

61. At Marikana*

62. Fly

63. Misunderstood

64. African Prodigy

65. Picture Reels

66. Human

67. Tied With Time

68. In Awe

69. Lunatic of our fringe

70. Love

71. The Female Tramp

72. Mount Zion

73. Old Sun, New Dawn

74. In a Foreign Land

75. Hallway of Moments

76. Covers and Trimmings

77. A Kettle of Fish

Glossary

Additional thanks

About the Author

Author’s Note

This poetry effort comprises seventy-seven poems. Themes explored through the poetries are most assorted. I have included a ‘contents guide’ at the back of the book to enable a ‘subject’ exploration through the verses. I have divided the subjects covered by the poems into seven broad categories or segments, namely poems of piety, poems in dedication, poems of nature, poems of polity, social poems, poems of love and poems of human nature. The subject matter of the poems is contemporary, even in its exploration of timeless themes like love, mortality and beauty.

The language of the book is predominantly formal. Its idiolect is nonetheless still decipherable and accessible in context. In some spaces archaic language is used. Whenever this was the case, a corresponding glossary at the back of the book, for words bearing an asterisk, has been supplied to aid in ascertaining intended meanings of the archaisms. The glossary also annotates significant events and individuals referred to in or tied to some of the poetry. Where the glossary supplied résumés, the intention was to distinguish the individuals mentioned and not to, per se, offer their exhaustive biographical anecdotes.

Language is diachronic, alive, in constant motion and is one of the most dynamic aspects of human communication. It is, in my view, quite capable of migrating backward and forward in time with complementing consistency and synergy of meaning. The manner in which language was used in the past is always foundational to the manner in which it euphemizes and creolizes today and presently. There are those ‘linguistic mannerisms’ that are out of common use but can still bring stylistic confluence between current and old uses of expression. The English language ‘land-fill site’ still possesses elegant words, phrases and other vocabulary accoutrements that can be ‘scavenged’ for present-day reuse.

Although the poetries are more a result of tedious exertion rather than natural flair, I believe that, even in their most conservative sense, they are still generously open to both solemn and cheerful reading. I hope that the poetry work is enjoyed and appreciated.

Acknowledgements

I offer, with profound grace and gratefulness, my fervent gratitude to Reach Publishers and its sterling and proficient staff compliment, none of whom should really go unnamed, in assisting me to procure the publication of this work. Many cordial thanks to Warren Veenman, Thora Woods, Rakhee Koovarjee, Catherine Davis-Smith and Sally Veenman for their respective contributions towards the fulfilment of this journey. A great measure of my unreserved appreciation must also go to Cathy Eberle for her effulgent editing inputs.

I acknowledge, without specific citation or delineation, the various lexical and knowledge sources available on the information highway, mentioning in particular Wikipedia and Thesaurus.com, which I often relied upon in procuring correct meanings of phrases, explaining obscure words and highlighting contexts throughout the extant of the poetry text. These publicly accessible encyclopaedic facilities promise to presently establish their universal forte as dependable knowledge aids of all time to come.

Behind what came to scribe in this undertaking are many relative influences that unquestionably derive and arise from various other indefinite sources, through pre-tertiary, tertiary, post-tertiary tuition and across other extracurricular sororities and socialization grid lines, as well, exerting conscious and unconscious persuasion over one’s outlook, to which I also wish to express an encompassing gratitude. The totality of my social experience is most satisfyingly and uniquely South African and crows of the immediate and surrounding backdrop under which I grew.

My gratitude goes to Kgomotso Mosehla, my partner, for her ambient love and support working towards the completion of this charge. Thanks forevermore unlimitedly, to Mabel Nnani Elizabeth Matjila, mother, for her unmissed care and reliable muses towards this accomplishment. Delightful thanks to Professor Johnny Mmushi Matjila, Christian Bagboy Mohapi Matjila (au revoir)and Beauty Hermina ‘Shushu’ Baloyi, my siblings, for their ever-vibrant and intellectually regenerative backdrop at forceful engagement with every manner of subject out for discourse. I dearly wish you feasts of unstoppably incoming blessings. A word of gratitude must also go to Derick and Zarita Cloete of DZ Photographers, for the profile photographs on the front and internal back of the book.

I am thankful to the Lord above for my life, to His faithful mercies and to river flows of His interminable kindnesses, which have kept me afloat throughout all my humble journeys.

If I Could Swallow A Man In Whole

If I could swallow a man in whole;

some men, their deeds being so callous and malicious,

without salt or pepper, in whole, I would swallow;

Like the gruesome guru who conscripts culprits of felony;

the lurid linguist who jots down jargons of vulgarity,

and the devilish chemist who concocts cocktails of addiction;

One had rather spiced his sweat and dowsed his sweater

in toils and soils of their unpardonable olfaction,

and like a rock python, a hog into its colon swallowed;

Slither a sore and sorrowful terrapin’s lither,

than moan agonizing mutilations of their uncouth conduct;

across bridleways of earth, causing too intolerable an affliction.

The Patriarch’s Arrival

(Epiphany of His Second Coming)

Canto I

Against darkness’ patent,

the demiurge’s lustrous face resurfaced;

with His eidolon burning without blaze or flame,

upon man’s Atlas and his hour-counting Astrolabe;

He glared in the eradiation of His silhouette;

as his piaffe* suffused an aureole light,

unto every cranny soaked and alcove pale;

as He strode confronts of earth on a golden colt,

questioning the savoir faire* of earthen ignoramus;

pate by pate, naming each noisome transgressor,

slate by slate, shaming their laissez-faire and affairs.

Canto II

Apexes aloft His gargantuan, sun-eclipsing craft,

in fangled multi-colour miasmas permuted;

as glows of His colt blasted out coronas of halo light,

wherever chivvy calls of His rummaging ablegates* erupted;

Announcing the arrival of a horary* of horrors,

auguries of forgotten ages foretold

and letters of ordained scriptures decreed of,

as their chides clamped down upon a plutocrat’s indulgence

and clamped down upon his servitor’s idolatry,

equally, their exploits under a litmus of piousness oppugned;*

equally, their record of righteousness through holy sifters gauged.

Canto III

His unbiased riddles separated florets from wildflowers,

to decisively reckon aside believers from nonbelievers;

for, in His holy vessel loads every blastoderm of life,

loads universal seeds, bountiful with wondrous geneses, stowed;

Carrying all of life’s masculine and feminine genes,

to keep, shield and yield upon generative steppes;

for, in His hands bide keepsakes of nature’s items yore and yont,*

have, in His flying ferry, through belts and elds* of space;

their life power flown and to cantons loaned,

as it shuttled cosmic voids, planting and planting out life forms;

by blossomed and dross planes of endless oblivion.

Canto IV

Saved, were mavens and ninnies for kindnesses of their hearts, who,

by His empyreal word had conscientiously lived;

were spared, to embark upon adjuvant crafts of His holy equanimity

and occupy limited seats, in comforts of His avionic mother vessel;

As it buoyantly destined for remote ultramundane* demes,

far as eyes could see, rose and stoned of jasper and carnelian;

soundly as lips could tell, sown and grown of vine and chamomile,

as many, for a chutzpah of impiety, from its manifest were slighted;

to stay behind, as raging bonfires obliterated earth’s surrogate visage,

envisaging, in its vintage privation and pagan spirit;

a radically chaste, virtuous and pristine vestige.

Last Fall

Roofing a smoothly cream-white bark

of the black mission;

engorged with itchy milk,

from deep corms of pregnant spreads;

Are mildly fragrant and leafy bushes,

maple-shaped garments of Eden’s* remission;

attractively hanging and dangling to currents,

with free-of-curse, temperate drupelets of fall;

Seasonally turning ornately purplish,

as closer to their fruitful fall they were thriven;

ready to snap down and forgo their dangle,

to tumble onto medium soil graves of gravity;

Ready to be handpicked into a vintner’s creel

or to be quaffed in by the dirt of thirsty sides;

ready to reap and ripple for lunch,

as munch or punch for hungry apes and aves;

Having a pretty gaze, blaze and shade

and hailed for its trade, hale and no petty sate;

about its fibrous anjeer family’s mulberry tang,

tasty taken as ale, ate just sun dried or lately ripe.

Revolutionary Patter

(A eulogy to Peter Mokaba*)

Canto I

Who shall young lions join forces with?

Left without humble gifts of his rallying voice;

as, anymore shall breadwinner,

their tough flights and plights;

onto Africa’s heeding and sympathetic patriot,

come to confidentially divulged;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly fought for the people to govern;

Who shall lift the flag of true liberation?

Left without humble gifts of his militant inflections;

as, anymore shall laden peasant backs,

their onerous weight of subdual;

from ploughs and carts of their captivity,

come to be unburdened;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to fight for all national groups to have equal rights.

Canto II

Who shall young lions report for duty to?

Left without humble gifts of his commanding activism;

as, anymore shall muzzled cubs of Africa,

their pain of confinement and cry of repression;

a concrete jungle’s rolling call for freedom,

come to be boldly roared;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly battled for all men to have human rights;

Who shall raise the flag of true freedom?

Left without humble gifts of his liberation oration;

as, anymore shall tillers,

their excruciating famines and fiscal miseries;

upon daises of autocratic acolytes,

come to be boldly articulated;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to battle for land to be shared amongst those who work it.

Canto III

Who shall young lions count upon?

Left without humble gifts of his political vigilance;

as, anymore shall colonial pickpockets,

their settler and folkloric vendettas;

with radical anti-racial retaliation,

come to be ferociously combatted;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly struggled for all to be equal before the law;

Who shall fly the banner of non-racialism?

Left without non-white patter, President of a gallant youth;

without Mokone, leonine fighter of ante-democratic autocrats,

prodigious warrior from the revolution-knolled north;

fearless son of the koppie* skirted Bakone* laity,

defiant fighter alongside organised working classes of nations;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to struggle that there be peace and friendship amongst all;

Who shall dare the tyranny of inequality?

Left without the leadership of an apartheid-fighting combatant;

left without a worrier in South Africa’s anti-colonial battleground,

left without a steadfast force in the National Democratic Revolution;

who struggled in armed duel under the aegis of a people’s army,

in townships where non-violent voices came to be violently belittled;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly struggled that there be work and security for all.

Canto IV

Who shall young lions learn their tactics from?

Left without humble gifts of his just wisdom;

as, anymore shall young tigers and ligers,

their muted uproar for universal suffrage;

by their most vocal sylvan king,

come to be fervently loudened;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to call for doors of learning and culture to be open to all;

Who shall march the pennon of real democracy?

Left without humble gifts of his unstoppable chant;

as, anymore shall young lions,

for their unity in action

and programme of action,

come to be coherently mobilised;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

who tirelessly called for security and comfort for all.

Canto V

Who shall young lions follow to battle?

Left without humble gifts of his pragmatic foresight;

as, anymore shall economic emancipation,

in objection to exploitation of labour;

its battle-cry’s highest morale,

come to be fervidly sounded;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to clamour for people to share in their country’s wealth;

Who shall bang the gong of true self-determination?

Left without humble gifts of his liberation mantras;

as, anymore shall freedom songs,

their rebellious anti-domination verses

and egalitarian slogans for fraternal causes,

come to be popularly rebounded;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly clamoured for health care and welfare for all.

Canto VI

Who shall young lions look up to?

Left without humble gifts of his unflagging courage;

as, anymore shall pastoral heeders,

autochthonous grazing lands and crop holdings

of their robbed homage and reaved* forages,

come to be vindicated and revalidated;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to agitate for everyone’s right to human dignity and life;

Who shall hold high the bunting of disenthrallment?*

Left without a militant son of the downtrodden majorities;

without none-racial Kid of Africa’s abandoned masses,

left without a democrat from the teaching and training turf;

a counted fighter upon dusty straights of rural Mankweng,*

left without a pledged fighter alongside students of nations;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly agitated for the right to education and culture;

Who shall challenge the scourge of poverty?

Left without a people’s Compañero,

without a comrade-in-arms of a subjugated African grassroots;

left without fighting coffers of a people-loving compadre,

without an ally-in-struggle of an ignored and crownless royalty;

left without an allied fighter along indigent classes of nations,

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North;

to agitate against slavery, servitude and forced labour.

Canto VII

Who shall young lions learn their soldierly mottoes from?

Left without humble gifts of his progressive principles;

as, anymore shall proletarian revulsion,

as ploughed for with hammers and sickles;

under guilds of its collective and collectivist vision,

come to be strategically led;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly protested for the right to fair labour practices;

Who shall defend the ribbon of unity?

Left without humble gifts of his mediating inspiration;

as, anymore shall banners of anticipative crowds,

bearing rank-and-file totems of common agitations;

from hearts and minds of ordinary masses,

come to be hoisted aloft protesters;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to protest for the right to assembly and demonstration.

Canto VIII

Who shall young lions campaign alongside of?

Left without humble gifts of his proven integrity;

as anymore shall anarchy’s mob rulers,

their misguided rebellions and agent provocateurs;

into revolutionary units of disciplined cadreship,

come to be orderly galvanized;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had tirelessly slaved for the right to believe and opinion;

Who shall mount the ensign of working class aspirations?

Left without humble gifts of his proletarian partisanship;

as anymore shall shouts against blue-collar exploitation,

from shop floors of its bantam wages;

with marches of a scarlet October activism,

come to be urgently optimized;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to slave for the equality of all men and women of the world.

Canto IX

Who shall young lions advance their units for?

Left without a soldier under the Mass Democratic Movement;

as, anymore shall ordinary multitudes,

by street committees of congress men and women;

into constructive forces of change,

come to be urgently conscientized and politicized;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had untiringly toiled for the right to trade and occupation;

Who shall uphold liberty’s emblem of optimism?

Left without humble gifts of his selfless sacrifices;

as, anymore is an organiser against apartheid propaganda,

as anymore is one-of-a-kind toyi-toying Mokaba Kid;

as anymore is a once-in-a-lifetime warrior from the kind Mokaba kith,

to consolidate gains alongside farm labourers of nations;

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North,

to toil for the rights of children, prisoners and accused persons.

Canto X

Who shall young lions entrust their convictions upon?

Left without a nation’s resolute and popular young trooper,

without a worthy antagonist under racialism’s darkest attritions;

without a frontrunner of a suffered people’s ungovernable rout to freedom,

without a leading stalwart in the resistance against total onslaught;

without a beacon of the first African liberation movement,

fighting against arbitrary evictions, fighting against demolitions;

for, gone is revolutionary Kid of the North,

had revolted for people’s power and the right to self-determination;

Who shall carry forth the motif of meaningful sovereignty?

Left without a political prisoner who fought to free political prisoners?

revolting for a people’s Republic, fighting to liberate his people;

resisting against separate development, hostile towards landlessness,

leading skirmishes to free the poor, fighting against unjust laws;

in combat to liberate his country, clashing to free his countrymen,

for, no more is revolutionary Kid of the North;

to revolt for a truly equal, non-racial, non-sexist and unitary society.

Mater

To Nnani Mabel Elizabeth Matjila (Nee Maloka)*

Canto I

Scintillate!

My princess of luminaries;

may rays and rainbows

of your golden age and silver hair;

glow élite shimmers to glorify,

your mater, your spine;

your nurture and strife …

To lionise you,

perfect Elizabeth!

My first beat’s jumpstarting;

my bare nates’* napkin,

my toddle’s nibbling;

my lullaby’s serenade.

Canto II

Fascinate!

My