Poetry Bulawayo

Image - http://www.sou.edu My mother spent the summer locked away in a strange place. Root wrapped and holding But we could not be certain for how long. She wasn't so unique in her occasional ineptitude. She used to walk barefoot from town to town searching, Until she had turned every corner and run into herself. Just like a dog can smell fear, She could sense the indifference, Confusion of memory and imagination. She remembered humble beginnings among dirt and stone but We are never the same person twice. She was buried in loss, Leaving only quiet desperation. Staring in dumb silence, We expected that past predicted the future. So many elusive and subtle masters that enslave us. Preserve your illusion because only the dead speak truth in this place. We are all beggars, Each in our own way, Always an incompleteness somewhere. Remember that nature is well suited for weakness, And our skeletons aren't to be distinguished from our ...

Image -    Pan-African News Wire File Photos The tree falls and winter comes The giant saviour that became the saint Is on the last journey back to his origins Time worn, like an aspiration compromised They wait on the sidelines The whole world waits For the covenant made with him is too strong a bind To snap before the tree falls Though bursting at the seams The giant sleeps….their neediness keeps the saint alive Incapacitated by the smiles of hope Spread in the hearts of little children It is easy to forget That the dream is for all Qhawe lamaqhawe Ntsika yesizwe Umhle umsebenzi wakho Uyancomeka kwaye usithwele Konke kwenzekile Uyidlalile indima yakho Ntsika yesizwe The giant sleeps Our fears keep the saint alive To save us another day http://simphiwedana.wordpress.com/