Poetry Bulawayo

Poetry is... ...a prayer in the heart of a pilgrim ...a song, on the lips of a lover ...a letter, lost on the way ...a ticking bomb, in the hands of a soldier ...a bead of sweat, on the farmer's brow ...a jade, at the bottom of the ocean ...a leaf, floating in the air ...a dialogue, between a great mind and itself ...expensive wine, drip drop drip drop, down the cliff of tabletop Poetry is... ...the music of a silent guitar ...a dream so real, a reality so ethereal

  Image - sciencenordic.com An attractive Woman Stood under Neon lights On a street corner Her face Radiated Heavenly Warm tones Of rich gold I loved her Posture And the way She smelt She pretended She was Nice I knew Differently.

  Image - newlatina.net Outside, the still of crickets . Inside, petals of a cold sore foliate, a boutonniere for full lips. Looking up, I tell her two eggs, basted, hash browns, coffee now. Later on, she says the birthmark I found south of her navel   she’s had all her life.