A Love of Life – Vincent Edward Manda

It’s like long trained fingers

Striking at piano keys:

I want to stop

But the music is too beautiful;

Like a disconcerted Shostakovich

A demented Paganini,

Grieg’s unsatisfied Gynt,

Or a frenzied Rachmaninoff.


Perhaps it’s  a mad Bach,

A troubled Mozart

Through Vivaldi’s progression,

A deaf Beethoven,


All without that calming Chopin.


It may be Oliver Mtukudzi’s sombre pleas

Or Thomas Mapfumo’s consternation,


It could even be,

A soothing Billie Holiday,

Howlin’ Wolf,

That rock and roll

I don’t give a FUCK



It could be

Screaming Jay Hawkins’ demeanour;

Or Bob Marley’s wisdom

Guiding through endlessly rough seas…


Perhaps it’s an angry DMX,

A longing Nas

A hilarious Red n Meth,

Or it’s a Poignant Tu Pac,


But without this, and more;

Oh so much more,

I couldn’t live another day.


his name rhymes with ‘mince’. He’s rarely without a notebook and can usually be found next to the closest bottle of red wine. Previously a writer for The Roehampton Lane Journal.

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