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Tim Marks Poem
Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue
Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core
of many memories and visions of old
Lake Kariba, in land sea
full of tiger fish and bream
The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze
It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind
Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi
POURING OUT THE CONCERT
RAMMING THE RODS OF STEEL
DRIVING THE WATER BACK INTO THE HILLS
HOWEVER, THE RIVER REFUSED TO YEILD
THE WALL BEGAN TO TIP, BUCKLE, AND KEEL
NOT ONCE, TWICE, WATER MARCHED THROUGH
LIKE A FACELESS WARRIORS, DESTROYING THE BARRIER
THE FORCE OF THE RIVER WOULD NOT BE SUBDUED
LIKE ALL NATURAL EVENTS, THE WAVES BEGAN TO SUBSIDE
THE SOLDIERS OF BLUE WITHDREW
UP WENT THE WALL, COMPLETED, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME
Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide
Like a whisper on the edge of wind
was a grand concert of ages gone by
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky
A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective
The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.
Copyright © Tim Marks | Year Posted 2013
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Tim Marks Poem
Ripples of blue and silver dance
impala males jump and prance
In a land where imagination roams to and fro
and the waters of old eb and flows
Dust holds memories from near and far
The sky, escarpment, and water beat out a rhythm of
The dreams of many, the thoughts of a few,
ZAMBEZI, O MIGHT OF THE SOUTHERN HINTER LANDS OF AFRICA
GIVING AND TAKING. YOUR PRIDE IN LIFE IS LIVED
YOUR COURSE DIRECTED BY THE THINGER OF THE MASTER DESIGNER
FORCE AND STRENGTH BOW BEFORE HIS MIGHTY HAND
Deep is the current and long is the stride of Him who taught you as a child O ZAMBEZI,
where your banks and streams will go.
Were you there at the beginning?
To see His plan, hear His words, savor His counsel.
Take heed to give life as He has given you so much life.
The sound of life echoes long and hard through this valley below the falls and the open sea.
Elephants, hippos, and lions create and compose an elegant cacophony.
Animals play on the banks,Birds dance on the wind.
The escapement sits and watches. Ever still, but never stagnate
Mana Pools, place of meaning. Where water parted mountains a mellinia ago.
Escarpments looking north and south, watching, waiting, guarding.
Life here moves at leisure, no race.
The life of hustle and bustle has no place.
In a way, even time and space seem pleasantly married together
So whether you a travel from far or near, they meet you and greet you and treat you.
Here on the flood plains.
Where a recollection of memories are locked away in the safe of sentimentally.
To a feast of the soul, spirit, mind, and body.
Where you can relax and let worry be forgotten.
Copyright © Tim Marks | Year Posted 2012
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Tim Marks Poem
As dawn peers over the edge of the sky,
In a space of the lonely kopjes and cacti.
Where God roamed to the edge of a scorched wilderness,
and stared into the vast land of nothingness.
HERE, STANDS A PLACE ARID AND BONE DRY
WHERE ROOT AND SHOOT SHRIVEL AND DIE.
HERE IS WHERE HE FORMED ROCKY OUTCROPS AND SANDY STRANDS
TULI IS IT’S NAME.
IN THIS FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE, WHERE WIND ROLES A GUST
FORMATION OF BOULDERS, PEBBLES, AND DUST.
The springs of vitality forced from the ground below
Sweet honey dew, taste of life, transforms this dusty bowl
Where quenched thirsts were satisfied,
Hunger for food became starvation and slowly crippled the dreary
Only the toughest would survive, no room for the weary
As time pasted, it forgot this flat open bush
where grass and shrub became razor sharp and prickly scrub.
harsh and foreboding.
The Shashe river snaking through the sandy ground
with dust and rubble on the fortress mound
So men came to conquer and forge his own path,
What madness is this, why was he so daft.
But, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object
History is written.
Wheels of progress move steadily forward
Rocks being used to build roads, bridges, houses, and prisons
So hard, tough, and cold these objects are to house the idea of future dreams and missions.
The stubborn will to settle,
made peoples focus rock solid.
But as time marches out and onward,
the memories and sentiments pasted through like a gentle breeze.
All that is left is the forgotten memories, graves, and relics of buildings old,
Hunters, Riders, and Voortrekkers cry out from the dust and sand,
that fortress of Pioneers, Tuli.
Copyright © Tim Marks | Year Posted 2012
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Tim Marks Poem
As the light dims and dances on the horizon
A menace stirs from its slumber, slinks from the shadows.
The game move to and fro, staying sit means certain death.
The eyes of death blink with certain deadly cunning,
paws step lightly and then begins the running.
The cry goes out to all, Life is being written in tooth and claw.
Animals become scatterings in the night, dust and sand dance between their feet.
The sound resonates slowly steadily, like the first rains of the season, until lighting strikes.
The roar is deafening, tooth and claw bearing.
The cry goes out, the shadows of terror are about.
Tawny flashes move back and forth, distress and fear prowl among the animals.
Brown eyes stair into the blackness of the night.
Knowing that courage musters to challenge the assault on their fallen comrade.
STANDING TO ATTENTION IN RANKS OF HOOVES AND HORNS
BORN TO BE WARRIORS OF THE BUSH, BUFFALO STAND TALL.
FORGED BY TRAILS OF NEAR DEATH AND ESCAPE
NEAR MISSES AND SWIPES OF CLAW AND PAW
FORM SCARES AND MARES ON THEIR THICK HIDE
WAVES OF FEIRCE RESISTANCE RISE AGAINST THE TEMPESTUOUS TIDE
Bombardment of bodies against that tawny terror.
Horns heave, shove, push, and move.
The earth beneath them quakes, shifts, and trembles under hooves.
However determination of suffocating and straggling terror.
Grips, bites, and holds.
The ranks brake and scatter, did there effort even matter.
No one knows, which way the battle would go.
The battles have been decisive,
Now the law of tooth and claw,
It has been written, sealed, and decided.
Copyright © Tim Marks | Year Posted 2012
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Tim Marks Poem
Lives passing by like a mirage
Stick images move through haze
The view is hard on your gaze
Footprints embedded in the ground
Echoes of the a time when life had a sound
Rolling in on hooves like thunder
Water draws the wildlife, like flies to a corpse in this valley of dry bones.
Chitake Springs, land of valleys, ridges, ravens, and dust.
Baobabs, sunsets, and elephant bulls in must.
Feelings come in with rain and are blown away with the wind.
Water draws life to its brim.
Life without it is pretty grim.
The river creates curved contours in the land
Painted in browns, yellows, and muddy blues in the sand.
Its colors melt together, soothing, and brewing.
Windy days and water bubbling
deep down in the belly of the earth.
As the heat sets in and the dust clouds grow.
The conflict of the titans comes to blows.
Brought with tension and strife,
Like distance thunder and rumbles,
tell of animals in strength of numbers.
As buffalo climb clumsily down the cliffs and valleys into the watery grave,
Eyes of predators peer from the bush as their prey
Strides to the sweet cool relief of the water
Little do they know that they are like sheep heading for the slaughter
As the heads of weary animals go down to drink,
tough though their determination be to savor every drop.
A presence they can’t escape is luring
Nerves on edge and fear brewing
The paws of death stalk with lighting precision
Until the animals are in clear vision
With an almighty dash of speed the chase is on
The game of life and death has just begun
Chitake Springs, drama is never far
Spoken of with a breath of excitement and terror
No one is ever quite sure of what to expect
Life is a balance of chance; this is the secret that is well kept
Copyright © Tim Marks | Year Posted 2012
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