Two peas in a pod
she’s so hot
both showing off
branded shades and shoes
his arms circle her
a prison so secure
how could she not
want some more
from her flat belly
dramas emerge with Rasta son
this mother with belladonna daughter hum
a priestess or princess
he does not know
it is all part of their show
Two peas in a pod
she’s so hot with potato
koeksusters on Sunday morning
legs like pegs in African colour sprawling
Woohoo ! both peas were soldiers with MKs
one from Zimbabwe
other from Mzantzi
sharp-shooting was their skill
in past for a kill
now their drama is
for paying fat bills !
~~~~~~~~~~~
I wish I could speak Shona fluently
Trace the paths of old Zimbabwe
From the ancient cliffs of Chinoyi
To Nelson Mandela Avenue’s concrete.
But wishes, like dreams
Are shooting stars across the night
Lighting the sky with fleeting grace
Yet slipping beyond reach.
So I dream still
Of the misty beauty at Victoria Falls
Of a land where children laugh and learn
Well-fed, and free to roam.
I dream of Zimbabwe
Where no hand needs greasing
Where healing is a right
And greed is but a forgotten word.
A zany Zimbalist from Zimbabwe
Stopped me on Calcutta Road with a, “hey!”
We are not the same
For I am quite tame
I liked the fact he was merry and gay.
I am the potato every pig covets,
The circus every Woolf dream to perform in, and
The toddler every phidophile crave to live with
But non will ever have
I am the uncut gem that will ever be rough
The golden egg that will never hatch
The promissory rain that never falls
I am the Oasious mirage in the Sahara sands
The hope that will never happen
I am the prodigal son who never returns
The Fallen Angel bound in purgatory
The pain the world will learn to dance with
The puncture that will never be mended
The unbleached indelible black patch
A patch of black on white linen
I am the darkness that out shines the light
The negativity that permeates every decent heart
The fear that every brave mind wimp at
I am the harlot sleeping with Kleptomania
Tranced in the blood of innocent souls
The cries of the poor is my sole music
I am the bread cramps of africa
The pagan spell that can never be undone
The sacrifice for the world to see
I am popular in every continental tabloid
I am the joke every embarrassment laugh at
I am a lot of things but nothing
I am nothing else, but Beloved Zimbabwe
30 possible destinations.
Outstanding in a variety of ways.
12 stood out immediately.
Kindness meant we would listen to everyone’s ideas.
25 women thought they might go.
Did anyone think of Belgium? Their chocolate is amazing!
7 dropped out right away due to the cost.
Paring down countries fast now, due to news reports.
22 women are still serious about a trip.
Wiggling with excitement.
45 days until we leave.
New to traveling, one is nervous. We reassure her.
9 grown women have tickets now.
Giggling with enthusiasm.
31 days until we leave.
Unusual trip is what we wanted.
51 brochures on the table.
Victoria Falls sounds wonderful!
3 of us wanting to bungee jump.
Zimbabwe here we come!
My mother to have known her a bold lady
Till this sad night she sneezed sneezingly
Puffing out the chocking gastric fumes of
Strong perfumed odours diffusingly off
Note that her tardy voice pitched so loud
Brought distresses and inflictions in odd
With her speech, grief it did brought awry
Disgraced amid masses, Mama I groaned
Comprehending the breach breathe claim
And left a lifeless being to question most
On her lameo. Damn to acknowledge being
The son of soil for she hast spat upon it.
Bob Marley will remain proud
In the peace that has survived
Despite years of being a target
In a world whose power is tilted
To a few who claim to own all
The most brilliant of military interventions
In a country deemed unable to think for self
Yet it took the military to make Africa proud
The most peaceful transition of power ever
From one generation to another with respect
God must be appreciated for these times
When the superpower(s) is busy with self
Struggling to fight the obvious from being
Same discord they sowed in many Nations
Chaos that comes with negative intrusion
While they hunt for anti-Christ the third without
Adhering to the scripts of Nostradamus himself
Yet the anti-Christ has sown his seed within
Leaving time to take its course as is natural
Karma pays a Nation as it does an individual
Perhaps the golden Yuga has come to be
While the Karli lives out its toughest times
The great light has broken into the darkness
From the very distant far end of the tunnel
In time the light is bound to spread to gold
You can all breathe now Zimbabwe
Rejoice freedom from repression
lift yourselves out of depression,
new president, no wannabe
so democratize your Country
repulse anything contrary
be pleased, say goodbye to Bobby
he has had it too good, too long
those hard years all terrible wrongs,
rule with fear is surely shoddy
so enjoy, sing, dance and party
now start your new lives, be hearty,
worlds much better without Mugabe
this evil man of ill repute
who no one will ever dispute,
you can all breathe now Zimbabwe
new president, no wannabe
be pleased, say goodbye to Bobby
rule with fear is surely shoddy
worlds much better without Mugabe.
11/21/2017
for contest Constanza
Sponsored by Craig Cornish,
Iambic tetrameter checked on how many syllables.
I was on top of his head.
An answer to a hairy I a dumping space.
I have seen him.
An answer to blind eyes.
I have heard the voice.
An answer to deaf.
Even if we woke up, we can testify.
Words from the dead.
All around the world are watching.
For the ears around to listen.
You are surrounded by degrees.
school can testify about you.
I sweat just to save you.
What does my tears mean to you.
I have written on the stone, for you to remember.
That's my words..me Robert Mugabe.
By munyai ndidzulafhi patric
Plucked i am,
From the flowering mopane
By the mother of the mischievous ones,
Only to be reduced
To a reproving stick.
Safe and secure i am,
Or rather i think i am
In my seemingly fortified pod.
Later disposed into the arid savannah
Where the hooves of migrating buffaloes
Forcibly crush me out
Seeding me into the infertile sands.
Scorched by the tropical heat
Patiently i wait,
For the refreshing summer drizzles
Giving back the hope of life.
Braving the blazing heat
I struggle out of the soil.
So that i can start my own.
Facing the new environs with the naivety
Of a chick just out of a shell
Trying to stand on my own
I become food of antelopes
Returning back to mortality.
Learnmore Nyoni 2014 (c)
Plucked i am,
From the flowering mopane
By the mother of the mischievous ones,
Only to be reduced
To a reproving stick.
Safe and secure i am,
Or rather i think i am
In my seemingly fortified pod.
Later disposed into the arid savannah
Where the hooves of migrating buffaloes
Forcibly crush me out
Seeding me into the infertile sands.
Scorched by the tropical heat
Patiently i wait,
For the refreshing summer drizzles
Giving back the hope of life.
Braving the blazing heat
I struggle out of the soil.
So that i can start my own.
Facing the new environs with the naivety
Of a chick just out of a shell
Trying to stand on my own
I become food of antelopes
Returning back to mortality.
Learnmore Nyoni 2014 (c)
Grey smoke of burning limbs
A burnt charred flag of
patriotism flying
In the June 27 democracy
Zimbabwe we hear your country screaming
We're powerless to help you you're at the mercy of a party thats murderous and
scheming
Robert Mugabe and his thugs the Zanu PF
They deny you free elections instead they dole out death
The world see's your pain but hears only one mans voice
Your human rights violated he's taken away your freedom of choice
The United Nation's and the peacekeepers won't intercede in this mess
If it was me that was in power and the balance i could redress
It would'nt take an army
6 men
3 letters
S.A.S
Z ulus and Shonas possess the lands
I ndependence placed it in their hands
M ugabe dictates his corrupt demands
B abies starve in the streets eating out of empty cans
A ids is rife amongst women and man reducing their life spans
B eautiful country reduced to desert sands
W eeping nation paying with every drop of sweat from their glands
E ternity it feels as they are slaves with new brands
Zimbabwe
From shimmering oil
of ebony still
will come flailing of limbs
will come hacking
quick slashing
of hands now untied
tattooing no pattern
not even a maze
depriving gray walls
of their stone
will come spittle
wild churning rivers
agush from slack jaws
of blanching gray hounds
till one day at dawn
will come quiet
Donal Mahoney
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