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Dryford Chimutu Poem
Donning sable spots on buff hearts:
With all the resolve an’ brutality
They pursue their prey;
Stopping at nothing but the
Quarry’s final gasp for a breath
They’re the pillaging African wild dogs:
So unflagging in the heart an’ rigid on feet
The ultimate hecklers of
He who stitches for others,
The one who gets lost on the way
They’re the invincible African wild dogs:
In deadly packs an’ persistent in manner
They grip their prey an’ rip it apart -
Preferring the budding an’ the hapless
That’s how they are; ferocious!
The resolute African wild dogs:
Heartless an’ inexorable, though
Oft their kill in no time they devour whole
Or a hunk excruciatingly torn off alive
Such ruthlessly merciless, so they are!
The cold-heart’d African wild dogs:
A time pinn’d down with an ample boulder
Or other piece with an equally sound weight
For now, the frenzy snappings an’ snarling
Render fleeting peace in the mottled hearts of theirs
Devouring an’ feasting like they do
On the now putrefying sworn enemy!
Copyright © Dryford Chimutu | Year Posted 2023
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Dryford Chimutu Poem
Of scapegoats
Who in cold walk without coats
For they have been neglected
And left unprotected
Of human race
Whose freedom is less
And whose efforts;
Meanwhile labelled ‘faults’;
Are nothing, but the burden
That which they do not deserve
Of mankind
Who for nothing labor for the unkind
And toil to no avail for a free mind
While their speech
Is and forever a somber pitch
Copyright © Dryford Chimutu | Year Posted 2021
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Dryford Chimutu Poem
Soothing, lissome; render the facsimile of its
Heart; Such a spright with adore imbued.
‘Er pelt’s so sleek; as petite fry’s
In its nurse’s, gentle and suckling:
The only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Realism in its mettle glints joie de vivre,
As doeth molten chaste gold in the forge; a
Knoll of whose acme other inamoratas feign. Such
An Alkebulan nymph of finest of lustre imagined:
The one and only on the heart.
Nymph of great splendor so priced,
Guarantees anew that adoring even more I stay;
Or peril I at rivals shameful losses, awaiting
My heart’s intensely pricked – broken:
As if it weren’t the only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Beauty as embossed on it and in
Every milieu envisioned, of itself no ill utters;
Making it the solo etch on this conquered heart,
And of those who in split or full, fray pro-reign
Over the one and only on the heart.
Hells all abhorrence merited, it deters!
Anti-doting each time desolation's endured,
Thus, it insures my glee agst perils viable;
Agst rivals in places – a reassuring haven:
The only Cutie-pie on my heart.
In its blissful eye’s such an unfaked
Love that soothes like no cool draft does;
Optically reassuring in such ways it’s my
Venus, the finest of icons in the realms of adore:
The one and only on the heart.
Every songbird that hums its tune,
Yens for the arpeggio worthy the hymn for
One sylph in a million – for its admirers reverie;
‘Until fatality do us part’, in their self-deceited yen
For the only Cutie-pie on my heart.
Copyright © Dryford Chimutu | Year Posted 2021
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