Poetry Bulawayo

Image - fashioncentral.pk We kept dancing long after the music had stopped while all receded to seat we danced and swayed like drunk weeds to a noteless melody  strummed by the hands of love a dance of souls entwined that makes music the fool a dance where all you do is stare, stoke and breathe deep I’m in love with the beautiful nonsense we do the slow dance that always fades to a messy steppy toes or to the sad bump of noses I’m in love with the beautiful mess we are! The pathetic potbellies that bump and collide… How cupid mourns at the nonsense we call 'us' I’m in love with the mess she is kinda heavy is my girl but with every crease and wrinkle comes the profound truth that love is not just an intense fondness but a sick thrill in embracing the nonsense in the clumsy kiss

Image - freedomcurrent.com Muammar my son! You were so young then When I taught you ways To make you human From a tender age I thought you would listen How you used to chase rats Kill innocent rodents Chasing them away From the compound with cats I warned you my dear son Let them live peacefully Lest they regroup and conquer Now look at yourself son You run away like rats Into dungeons  Will you die like them? Saddam or those rodents? All honor & glory gone, Besides you are now a rat Hiding missiles in a hole I thought you took heed then, But you wouldn’t listen Eish! Gaddafi my son!