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Best Poems Written by Roger Nkhoma

Below are the all-time best Roger Nkhoma poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Habits

My lungs are black but my heart is pure
My hair is thin and falling out in the wrong places
At this point my days to live are measured with an hour glass 
The size of the smallest taxa 
My memory is a bank of a hundred and one bad choices
Two thirds look like a previous poem I wrote,
 one which I used a cigar to craft the smoke that is to swallow my alveoli whole
I am using one as I write this, and I’ll probably smoke another one after I’m done
These are the habits I have
The habits I adopted from the apple that fell far from the tree,
The forbidden fruit.

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Coffee Love

Caffeine and powdered milk to stir this amour
Who needs sugar with love this sweet?
Unbreakable glycosedic bonds in the genes of our DNA
We love to disappear and make love below the microscope
Every touch is a diabetes attack
It stimulates me.

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Feeling

I'm a wordsmith 
Painting feelings with syllables and expressions
Vowels first and adjectives later
On the tip of my brush you will find no verbs
There is no action in these words I write
Technical pillars of this poetic religion
And I believe you know I do not mean them
But that doesn't mean I am lying 
For I paint feelings to put in the walls of my gallery
And there is no practical to a feeling 
For how else can you explain passion if not with words?
You cannot do happiness
Cannot visit love
It is the touch of feeling that makes the heart and the skin sing a melody that your lips do not know the lyrics to
It is a complex model
Only to be experienced on personal heights
Touch for touch 
Smile for smile
Tear for tear 
And like good cheese a good feeling is,
When you taste it,you just know.

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Male

I wish to try paint the portrait of manhood 
Tinkle a Little
For what else except humility makes humans angels?
For being a man is hard but that's something I wish to become before my tombstone days
Manhood
The unexplained and unidentified phenomenon of etymology
I've been told real men have a salvation in their touch 
Eyes with gallons of gasoline two matchsticks short
And a heart filled with fire hoses and riot gear but yet still bonteous in the offering of love
They have a chest of a dragons lungs 
And anguish that a lady with a bowl of cheese cannot satiate 
I've known men with hearts like these 
Their minds are made of diamonds
Formed from constant pressure of the rigours of tied responsibilities
Perhaps in a thousand years
We will be diamonds from the dust 
For anyone is born male but not everyone is a man.

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Childhood

I wish to write an encomium for myself 
Paint it's hue with my mother's advice and my father's guilt
For it will dress the colour of my heart
Purple
Which fell pale to the clutter of their voices In my adolescent nights
A glance of this write will make my eyes swim to the rivers of their arguments
I wish to entitle it childhood.

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What Would You Do For Love

This one I have no title for,
All I know is it's the cries of my heart
And the innocence of her chastity,
She wears the love of Shakespeare
Atleast that's what I think,
But I never find a way to the tides of her love,
I haven't written in a while, but this here is how I breathe my confessions,
Perhaps the universe was waiting for this perfect moment,
After all there's no reasoning with a man feeling love...
This is the first piece of a million I'm writing of her,
But my chest is a heat wave burning at the rate of five thousand sun's,
So I just want burst out with the lust of my heart,
So I joke about the size of her behind here and there
I know she likes it though she denies it,
She cringes that I'm a sweet talker,
But there's no asking what gift God gives us
So I'm writing embers of next summers love story,
Of you and I
I'm embarrassed by what my future sons are to
Read!
But there's no reason in the heart of a man feeling love...
So I feel like I'm on ectasy and passion,
Ready to promise this lady the stars like it belonged to me....
'After all, what would you do for love?'

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Quarantine

This heart is on lockdown,
I am caught in a time loop
Re-living the same routine day after day,
Stuck between a hard place and a vestigial virus,
So I numb the pain to the thought of meeting you after this,
My quarantine goddess 
I have made a mask out of the sleeves of your heart..I trust you will keep me safe,
You have gathered sticks to make a place tender for our love to grow,
This we share belongs to the sky,
It knows no limits
And now I’m caught in the web of your nest 
So sanitize and stay with me
I wish to see how this story will end,
I love you shuga!

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Happy

H-ello to this house I now live in
A-coustics here are pulchritude
P-remiering the new episode of the rest of my life
P-lan to find a miss who is to turn this into a home
Y-ou agree she sounds a lot like you.

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Two Piece Band

Here! Is where another love song is born
With every touch on the keys 
An echo is heard on the moon
It's a sweet release
I am the writer of this love song
My wife says she wishes I was as romantic as what I write
She must be right
Considering our house started to dissolve right after
Her,
She is the lead singer in this two piece band
Her voice quivers like an earthquake
With every note I want rip my ears off
But I smile cause she is the love of my youth
These imperfections make us beautiful beings 
Even petals on resplendent flowers must fall but that doesn't make them any less beautiful
I remind myself
I am alive today by luck
I desire to let these sinister hands play the garros roland on the strings of what I stole from my father's house
With every touch
I give breath to a lovely symphony
A sweet release
My wife in twines herself with a vibrating Harmony
Blithely and resilient as she is 
We are a terrible mixture
Two butterflies flying in a cocoon.

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Vanity

This piece I write is forged in the presence of candle light
To show the urgency i have to breathe my confessions to the love of my youth,
So I light a stick of cyanide to relax and find the right words
Knowing I have herbs to detox the following morning,
After all, I already have a reputation for such
But today, they're is truth I wish to breath through the veil of anonymity
I find myself writing poems of her in my sleep,
And today my wrist has gone haphazard once more,
What if I was to say my love for Hera is greater than the Eiffel tower? And on this I'd bet my life
Place everything I hold dear on two odds.
This February I have ripped pieces of my heart to mend the scars waged by her passed lover,
And on some nights her lips taste like jack Daniels on rocks,
After a couple glasses I find myself stumbling to our first date,
The very first time my breathe left the room at the sight of this 5-foot promise to heaven,
What sorcery is this? One which she appears in my sleep yet speaks of free will,
Her voice is salvation and she is as beautiful as the rarest flower in the garden of Eden,
And if the sky was to come crushing down or our heads were slightly above water.... I'd swear to make a place tender for her heart in the after life.