Country peeling
Old crusty skin
Lovers and haters
Plucking at the drifting flakes
Blown before
cynical currents
Trying to patch tattered dreams
That still
In their gaunt eyes gleam
Like unflinching agate
In sun-blasted
Wind-blasted
Mute deserts
Monday, June 22, 2009
I Remember
A squirrel settles on my shoulder
Nibbling on a nut
It’s long furry tail entwines around my neck
I sigh, pick up the gentle animal
And hold it in front of my face –
It close’s its small eyes, nuzzles my nose
And nimbly leaps from my hands
And easily up the tree…
A short distance away
The gentle murmur of a brook
I remember one day too Gugu
We bent down to look
Into the clear depths of a pool in a valley
And two young love struck faces
Were gazing up at us
You threw a stone into the glassy surface
And the faces were broken into shards...
I stand up and turn my back to the south
Where I came from I don’t know when
And never care to know again
As a grey dove whirrs from the open sky
Settles on the tree
And coo cooe’s down at me
That it is time to start gathering dewy fruits
For my morning meal
And the doe’s are waiting in the dale
Their dug’s swollen with fresh milk
That my bloodless hands they do not fear
Shall squeeze into a gourd
The Crowning
I shall crown your waist with a bouquet
Of fragrant blossoms
I shall plead with the kind sky
Just to drop one silver star
From its shimmering bosom
That I shall press upon your navel
I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky
To lend its softest shine
To the warmth that courses through your blood
That your skin can drip milk
And be textured as the finest silk
I shall plead with the wind to be merry
And waft freshly and briskly past your dale
That I shall fill with birds
Of the sweetest song and finest plumage
I shall ask the setting sun
To turn down its fierce wick
And become a soft crimson
Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees
That you may look up to behold this vision
And O I see your angelic face turned my way
Of fragrant blossoms
I shall plead with the kind sky
Just to drop one silver star
From its shimmering bosom
That I shall press upon your navel
I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky
To lend its softest shine
To the warmth that courses through your blood
That your skin can drip milk
And be textured as the finest silk
I shall plead with the wind to be merry
And waft freshly and briskly past your dale
That I shall fill with birds
Of the sweetest song and finest plumage
I shall ask the setting sun
To turn down its fierce wick
And become a soft crimson
Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees
That you may look up to behold this vision
And O I see your angelic face turned my way
The Crowning
I shall crown your waist with a bouquet
Of fragrant blossoms
I shall plead with the kind sky
Just to drop one silver star
From its shimmering bosom
That I shall press upon your navel
I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky
To lend its softest shine
To the warmth that courses through your blood
That your skin can drip milk
And be textured as the finest silk
I shall plead with the wind to be merry
And waft freshly and briskly past your dale
That I shall fill with birds
Of the sweetest song and finest plumage
I shall ask the setting sun
To turn down its fierce wick
And become a soft crimson
Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees
That you may look up to behold this vision
And O I see your angelic face turned my way
Of fragrant blossoms
I shall plead with the kind sky
Just to drop one silver star
From its shimmering bosom
That I shall press upon your navel
I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky
To lend its softest shine
To the warmth that courses through your blood
That your skin can drip milk
And be textured as the finest silk
I shall plead with the wind to be merry
And waft freshly and briskly past your dale
That I shall fill with birds
Of the sweetest song and finest plumage
I shall ask the setting sun
To turn down its fierce wick
And become a soft crimson
Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees
That you may look up to behold this vision
And O I see your angelic face turned my way
Friday, May 22, 2009
A SOUNDLESS SONG
A frozen wave from the roadside
Between the dreamy trees marching backwards
A goat mercilessly tearing
At the petticoats of a tree unable to flee
Bloated cows crunching mouthfuls
Of helplessly trembling verge side grass
A boy-man sitting on the coiling trunk
Of a fallen tree gone dry
Plucking on the fishing twine strings
Of a tin banjo
A soundless song for you as you drive past
Between the dreamy trees marching backwards
A goat mercilessly tearing
At the petticoats of a tree unable to flee
Bloated cows crunching mouthfuls
Of helplessly trembling verge side grass
A boy-man sitting on the coiling trunk
Of a fallen tree gone dry
Plucking on the fishing twine strings
Of a tin banjo
A soundless song for you as you drive past
Friday, April 24, 2009
RECONCILIATION
(Dedicated to the FROM CONFRONTATION TO RECONCILIATION ART EXHIBITION to he held at the Bulawayo Art Gallery on the 30/04/09)
Please tell me
Is it that kite
Flying high in the sky
Out of reach
Of our hands, our hope
Whilst schools close
And our children
Learn to sell their bodies?
Please tell me
Is it that kite
Flying high in the sky
Out of reach
Of our hands, our hope
Whilst schools close
And our children
Learn to sell their bodies?
NJELELE
(Dedicated to the FROM CONFRONTATION TO RECONCILIATION ART EXHIBITION AT THE NATIONAL GALLERY IN BULAWAYO 30/04/09)
Let all those that have desecrated
Against the sanctity of humanity -
Let them all come forward
To the all-seeing shrine of Njelele
Let them kneel at the alter of forgiveness
So the spirits might exorcise from their nightmares
That eternally accusing eye and the screams
Of all those helpless victims of yesterday
For a better today and tomorrow
Let all those that have desecrated
Against the sanctity of humanity -
Let them all come forward
To the all-seeing shrine of Njelele
Let them kneel at the alter of forgiveness
So the spirits might exorcise from their nightmares
That eternally accusing eye and the screams
Of all those helpless victims of yesterday
For a better today and tomorrow
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
The Green House Effect
The mighty God
By divine hand
Beams us His blessings
From the heavens above
That they can warm our hearts
And drive out all those bad airs
Back to him for incineration
Before He can beam us
Another dose again
In answer to our daily prayer -
And,
Before those bad airs
Can get up to him
The rogue politicians
Trap them in the atmosphere
And bounce them
Back to us again
To play havoc
With our mental climates
Reducing us
To their fools
And utterers of hate speech.
By divine hand
Beams us His blessings
From the heavens above
That they can warm our hearts
And drive out all those bad airs
Back to him for incineration
Before He can beam us
Another dose again
In answer to our daily prayer -
And,
Before those bad airs
Can get up to him
The rogue politicians
Trap them in the atmosphere
And bounce them
Back to us again
To play havoc
With our mental climates
Reducing us
To their fools
And utterers of hate speech.
The Green House Effect
The mighty God
By divine hand
Beams us His blessings
From the heavens above
That they can warm our hearts
And drive out all those bad airs
Back to him for incineration
Before He can beam us
Another dose again
In answer to our daily prayer -
And,
Before those bad airs
Can get up to him
The rogue politicians
Trap them in the atmosphere
And bounce them
Back to us again
To play havoc
With our mental climates
Reducing us
To their fools
And utterers of hate speech.
By divine hand
Beams us His blessings
From the heavens above
That they can warm our hearts
And drive out all those bad airs
Back to him for incineration
Before He can beam us
Another dose again
In answer to our daily prayer -
And,
Before those bad airs
Can get up to him
The rogue politicians
Trap them in the atmosphere
And bounce them
Back to us again
To play havoc
With our mental climates
Reducing us
To their fools
And utterers of hate speech.
Monday, March 23, 2009
What?
Have you ever seen a baby doll
Black in colour, hair kinky?
Where have you seen its eyes roll
Up and down real winky freaky
And the hilarious squeak when on it I fall
My neighbour’s friend doll inky
Pinkie inky that’s what we call
Her that got splattered it’s a pity
Rosy pink cheek by black ink like the wall
Small nostalgic red bricks scarred and weepy
Streaky white from the black birds on the broken top
Where have you ever seen it
A baby doll black in colour, hair kinky?
Black in colour, hair kinky?
Where have you seen its eyes roll
Up and down real winky freaky
And the hilarious squeak when on it I fall
My neighbour’s friend doll inky
Pinkie inky that’s what we call
Her that got splattered it’s a pity
Rosy pink cheek by black ink like the wall
Small nostalgic red bricks scarred and weepy
Streaky white from the black birds on the broken top
Where have you ever seen it
A baby doll black in colour, hair kinky?
The Crowning
I shall crown your waist with a bouquet
Of fragrant blossoms
I shall plead with the kind sky
Just to drop one silver star
From its shimmering bosom
That I shall press upon your navel
I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky
To lend its softest shine
To the warmth that courses through your blood
That your skin can drip milk
And be textured as the finest silk
I shall plead with the wind to be merry
And waft freshly and briskly past your dale
That I shall fill with birds
Of the sweetest song and finest plumage
I shall ask the setting sun
To turn down its fierce wick
And become a soft crimson
Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees
That you may look up to behold this vision
And O I see your angelic face turned my way
Of fragrant blossoms
I shall plead with the kind sky
Just to drop one silver star
From its shimmering bosom
That I shall press upon your navel
I shall ask the sucked out sickle in the night sky
To lend its softest shine
To the warmth that courses through your blood
That your skin can drip milk
And be textured as the finest silk
I shall plead with the wind to be merry
And waft freshly and briskly past your dale
That I shall fill with birds
Of the sweetest song and finest plumage
I shall ask the setting sun
To turn down its fierce wick
And become a soft crimson
Above the wrought boughs of ancient trees
That you may look up to behold this vision
And O I see your angelic face turned my way
Blood Rain
Look deep into my eyes
and see those dark clouds
Incessantly pelting down
this afternoon blood rain
Glittering as the sun saintly
Shafts its way down into this fray
Of shameless looters –
Zimbabwe, land of my birth!
He makes the hole in the heart grow bigger
The stomach grow weaker
and see those dark clouds
Incessantly pelting down
this afternoon blood rain
Glittering as the sun saintly
Shafts its way down into this fray
Of shameless looters –
Zimbabwe, land of my birth!
He makes the hole in the heart grow bigger
The stomach grow weaker
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)