Poetry Bulawayo

Image - oaklandnorth.net Half were on Facebook a quarter were asleep the rest were feigning alertness whilst waiting for tea break The ones on Facebook and the ones sleeping were also waiting for tea break.

Image - flickr.com Dear Comrades Welcome to our congress We are not here to impress As in order of introductions Not the list of sanctions Here there are dogs, Chickens and pigs Elephants, awls, lions and you Yes, you Dogs have no respect They bark at our esteemed visitors Bite our private partners They fuck in public They leak the dirt of other dogs They find joy in eating leftovers

Image - 2morecents.wordpress.com Once, Somewhere in the loss of true memory Our black was beautiful You must remember US, When being black was the most vivid of dreams Raindrops wetting to life those landscapes within An idea brightest in the blackest of times Because it was then, that point of creation And then light Now being black is a nightmare A lonesome memory trapped in third world politics Education systems that blind our ability to dream Arrested development as we slave in modern day plantations Structured to seem to mind as our salvation A nightmare from which if we sleep We may never awake Black was a feeling once A mood dressed in the most moving of music When drums would sound the pulse pace of warriors Mbiras the guidance of those alive within us When the most eloquent of tongues exhaled words to life A young man’s guitar Would sound to the Heartbeat of the most virtuous sister As they moved within the rhythm of l...

I will as I promised, Attach your poetry to a kite, And let it out of the window, ... ... So it soars, high above our heads. I shall, As I promised, you my little cousin, Paint it bright, your poetry, So that we will gaze at it, Floating in the sky, And we will also be seeing, Beyond it, The blue sky, Where the heavens are, Where eagles play, And swallows fly. I shall, Dear young Primrose, Fly it on a bright and sunny day, When everyone can breathe, The crystal clear morning air, And see the sun shine, As brilliant as it could. I will fly your poetry, On Christmas day, Maybe it will snow, Or it may rain, Whatever the weather's mood, I shall fly it out, Bright and happy lines, Smiling onto our faces, Celebrating the birth of a baby king, And you my cousin shall smile, Together with a million other smiles, Oh what a happy day? To see the works of your hand, Floating in the works of the Creator's hand, And then we shall sing, A hap...

Photo by Mgcini Nyoni As the dollar rises Each day I count the rays of the sun Piercing my grouchy skin To blackness it has never before seen As the dollar rises Each day so do my hopes and dreams Dreams of a proper meal A day A slice of bread, with the Morning rain And morning tea In a fragile cup of porcelain frivolity Yes, a proper dream Of a hope for my children’s children... As the dollar rises Each day I do dream of a cool day Of morning dew touching my clear skin As the morning rain Pit-Patters on the little horizon A proper dream A slice a day A hope for my children 's children Just a proper dream.

Image - quintessentialfeline.wordpress.com I missed you- the very moment you turned to go into that Harare train, I saw the cold night already – the racked night red and empty I shivered put my hood-on my hands in my pockets and walked away from warmth …with a broken heart!

Image - mota.ru 1 How beautiful your sandaled feet,    O prince’s daughter! Your graceful legs are like jewels,    the work of an artist’s hands. 2 Your navel is a rounded goblet    that never lacks blended wine. Your waist is a mound of wheat    encircled by lilies. 3 Your breasts are like two fawns,    like twin fawns of a gazelle. 4 Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are the pools of Heshbon    by the gate of Bath Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon    looking toward Damascus. 5 Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel.    Your hair is like royal tapestry;    the king is held captive by its tresses. 6 How beautiful you are and how pleasing,    my love, with your delights! 7 Your stature is like that of the palm,    and your breasts like clusters of fruit. 8 I said, “I will climb the palm tre...