REI MA GIN ED
GINEDREIMA GINED REI MA GIN ED QUESTIONING THE ISSUE
REI MA GIN ED REI MA GIN ED REIMAGINED REIMAGINED 00 0010 00 THREAD OF THE ISSUE 05 IN THE THICK OF IT 08
Published in July 2025 by The UCT Poetry Society
Edited by Kobamelo Pule
Copyright contributors:
Logo design: Naledi Siluma
Pictures: Tumi Mogari & Kobamelo Pule
WEBSITE:ISSUU.COM/NKGWANA
As I bless the soil before planting the seeds, I would like to open by welcoming you to our reimagination of Nkgwana.
The Poetry Society is reviving its magazine and I am proud to be the one carrying the duty forward. We look forward to now publishing the magazine in quarterly segments(Jan, Apr, July & Oct). We invite you to join us on this journey, you just might find what you are looking for.
This is catered to feed your mind with poetic beauties and muses. The poetry shared, is our way of saying: We hope these pieces put a smile on your face - whether from joy or bittersweet realization.. Either way is beautiful.
The magazine selections are put together by the executive, and I have the honor to curate and structure it. I take no credit for the beauty within; I am merely weaving the bouquet together. The thread of this issues is strung by our members. We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we loved making it for you. Welcome to the beginning of this new chapter for us all.
Love, Kobamelo Pule Nkgwana Editor
UCTPoetrySoc holds weekly poetry meetings where our members share their thoughts and pieces on the given theme.
This room is where we gather to share what we noted from the theme The meetings are biweekly, that being on Monday and Friday at 1pm Our space has been Hum5B over the past semester. It was in this room we would open our ears and our pages, to hear and share what the theme inspired that week.
We would wave through the ‘motions of these themes as the seasons would the times, each of the them tending to their different ends.
Up next is the “Thread of the issue” where we share the pieces shared in this room we go to every week we garnered more from our members and share their voices here with you These pieces are glances into our gatherings and the conversations we have in them.
Themes over the past semester: - waiting - your choice - solitude - realising - renewal and transformation - becoming - dreaming - focus - “I am hungry for“
Artisnevermerelypigmentorverse itisareflectionoftheartist, aportraitofthesoul, swingingonthevinesofanoldtreewhichcarriestheweightofdreamsyettobe realised.
Thisiswhereitsbeautylies
Artisaweary,barefootedmarchacrossdesertdunes; anendlesssearchfortheelusivegold-litgalleriesofmemory, wherewritersandpoetsalikeexchangeprosearoundalargestonetableinanancient Greekbuffet
Thisiswhereitsbeautylies…
Ineverystrokeofthebrush,thereisaninescapablevulnerability; deep,distinguishinghuesoffatigue,fury,hopelessness,andloss
Thisiswhereitsbeautylies…
Ineverylinerecited, there'safainthushofdesperation; apolitescreamfromdespair, amanicuredsorrow, aglassofwhiskeydashedwithanguish, sippedslowlybeneathchandeliers
Thisiswhereitsbeautylies…
Dancersglidegracefully!
Theirlimbsarefluid; theirbonesquietlybreakingbeneaththecostumeofgrace.
Thisiswhereitsbeautylies
Artistheveryreasonforoursuffering Canyousee,itaddstexturetoourportraitandpurposetoourtestimony?
Webleed,webreak,webruise, wefracturebehindsmiles
Andstillwepaint,wewrite,wetwirl Forwhatisartbutthegrandmasqueradeofpain?
Trustnottheman
Trustthemasterpiece
Thereinliestheconfession, thesharedsolitude, thefinal,glimmeringtruth
How stiff became my pen - Celestin Nahimana
How stiff became my pen
That its own ink had turned to lead
As my own words laid themselves to bed Tired from being tossed around and spread
As they seek a means to end The unrest of emotions
Blocked by my inability to pick up my pen
How stiff became my pen
That it struggled to muster a word Or courage to face my drought
And as its victim malnourished and thin
Do I face my plight or do I struggle to swim out of the necessity to grasp at this whim to breathe the air , to exhale from within need I suffocate these syllables and form a coercive scripture hoping that my poetic poverty entertains you
Use Words - Lesley Mpemba Jnr
I use words because I must, just as a man uses breath to live, to shape, to survive. I use words as though they were champagne in a fluted glass, a glittering waltz echoing through the stained-glass windows of some forgotten ballroom of the heart. And when I meet someone who hears the same rhythm - she who glides like silk through a dream - I speak of a magnetic longing, as if the universe were conspiring to bring me to her gravity.
I use words because I must, just as a man uses breath to live, to shape, to survive. I use words as though they were champagne in a fluted glass, a glittering waltz echoing through the stained-glass windows of some forgotten ballroom of the heart. And when I meet someone who hears the same rhythm - she who glides like silk through a dream - I speak of a magnetic longing, as if the universe were conspiring to bring me to her gravity.
The echoing beats of a heart, incomplete, Fills the void, of a beast, who in solitude, Seeks, the touch of a muse, REFUGE, From delusions of a love that’s concrete,
Rooted in confusion, the scribe, describes, His own demise, his lonesome side, Needs to die, light the fire for the sacrifice,
Petals of rose, cinnamon, and cloves, The scent of love, torments the soul, That’s prone to not let go, Of oceans of emotions that make no sense
The notion is bipolar, a fiery desire, The frostbitten wind, Stops him from climbing the spire,
Where the damsel awaits to fulfill his fa , Embracing the fragmented heart That shaped, ME!
Thankyoutoeveryonefor yoursubmissions.Your piecesthreadourissues together.<3
