The Confession

By 

Tinashe Muchuri

Forgive me, Lord

For all the lies I said

When

Before your congregation,

I testified lies

That when girls of my age

Were getting pregnant

Or eloping with some old men

You were keeping me safe

I lied,

I was using pills and condoms.

© Tinashe Muchuri, 2011

All rights reserved.

Swan in Flight

By

Adjei Agyei-Baah

Swan in flight, 

Lufthansa, 

A copycat. 

Adjei Agyei-Baah (C) Copyright ~ 2011 All Rights Reserved

My Father

By

Phillip Chidavaenzi

  

From the gold-tainted pulpit,

You preached,

From your voluminous Bible,

Still you preach – love, respect

Love,

With passion,

You preach

Respect,

With compassion,

You teach

 

But at night,

To me

For a ‘treat’

You come

You whisper like a snake’s rattle

As I cower under your battle

 I am torn,

You groan

Between my legs

Your stiffness licks

Even as I weep.

Jesus carried his cross,

But are you my cross?

Jesus bore its weight,

But night after night I bear your weight

But you are my father

But are my pastor

On Sunday from the Bible you teach,

Yet midweek ‘satanic verses’

Between my sheets you preach. 

© P. Chidavaenzi,

Sunday July 24, 2011.

Jewel in the Mud

 

By 

Francis Chidavaenzi 

You found me 

Like a jewel in the mud 

A pearl of great price

Like ngoda from Chiadzwa 

Out of the miry clay 

You brought out the finest gold 

A crawling worm 

You turned into a butterfly

From the vilest of sinners

You brought out a saint! 

© F. Chidavaenzi, 2011 

All rights reserved.

Death Threat

By

 Tinashe Muchuri

I am not afraid

When you threaten me

With death

I die once

And you

Forever!

(c) T. Muchuri, 2011

Menopause

By 

Francis Chidavaenzi 

Menopause!

Men-o-pause 

Men oppose 

The woman’s lustre now lacking

Her body systems their bags now packing 

For more love and attention she starts begging 

The party is over now 

The bottles have run dry 

 Through the window romance flies 

No more monthly drippings of that red wine 

The music has stopped 

How hard it is to play loose strings

Of an aged cracky love’s guitar

The show is over now 

On stage the performers bow

And the curtain comes down

 The curves and all flesh to gravity bow 

Like a flag raised halfway 

In mourning of a fallen hero!

© F. Chidavaenzi, 2011.

Be Grateful

By

Sympathy Sibanda

We spend our lives

Pouting

Complaining

Shrugging

And blaming

Weigh the reasons to mourn

With your reasons to smile

Give thanks for the little

For another,

The little is not even a dream away

Stop pouting

Give thanks

Be grateful

To this baby and many others,

The left overs,

We throw in our bins

Are a heavenly banquet

© S. Sibanda, 2011

Untitled

By 

Francis Chidavaenzi

My life is brilliant 

My love is pure

  I saw an angel 

Of that I am sure...

(c) F. Chidavaenzi, 2011

Untitled

By Sympathy Sibanda

when love is hot,
you think it will never wax cold
what happened to true love
celebrate if you have it
preserve it if its in your haven
welcome it if its at your doorstep

(c) S. Sibanda, 2011

TORN APART

By
Phillip Chidavaenzi

Since you’ve been gone

Like a crater,

Of its volcano relieved,

I ache –

Profusely,

Bleeds my heart

Like a political pamphlet,

With worn-out slogans,

A part of me,

You tore away.

(C) P. Chidavaenzi, July 2 2011 

All rights reserved.

Recollections of Domboshava

By Tichaona Zindoga 

Sweet innocent youth,

Broken by some moments uncouth. 

Growing in a village 

Where fires of dry season rage 

Not with malice; 

Perhaps to prepare the land for a summer chalice 

Of cool summer rain – the long wait has not been in vain. 

Plenitude. 

Poverty. 

Plenty. 

Want. 

Seasons: a life’s course 

Bobbing back and forth with natural force.

A people owning all: 

The mountain, the valley, the waterfall. 

Caves. 

Paintings: some great times past 

A history in and on stone cast 

Mystery. 

Drums beating in Ngomakurira 

Free booze in Musungwa. 

Not red not black: 

Something in between, 

A rock, a dome so coloured: 

Domboshava. 

© T. Zindoga, 2011. 

All rights reserved.

NDIANI?

Na Francis Chidavaenzi 

MATSOTSI aya,

Achasunga ndiani? 

Vemitemo,

Nechioko muhomwe,

Zvovorarama

MHONDI idzi, 

Achatonga ndiani?

Vemitemo,

Zvovoda dhora pamberi?

MBAVHA idzi,

Achamhangarira ndiani? 

Vanoona, 

Nechigunwe mukanwa, 

Zvovonyaradzwa?

Vhura muromo, 

Achabhadhara ndiani? 

Vanhu vese, 

Mate mukanwa, 

Zvavaomeswa nematsotsi?

© F. Chidavaenzi, 2011.

MATSOTSI

  Na Phillip Chidavaenzi

Usadenhe vakomana ava

Siyana navo

Kwavanobva haukuzive

Vanokunyudza.

Siya vakadaro,

Vakomana ava -

Vane mangoromera

Usatambe navo

Mumatope,

Vanokuzvuzvurudza pasina mvura.

Rega zvako

Rikabaya pfumo ravo,

Rinotyokeramo

Woziva pako papera

Hondo yavo haina mugoni

Saka rega vakadaro

Matsotsi

Hwako hupenyu,

Vanotiza nawo...

(c) P. Chidavaenzi, July 2 2011

All rights reserved.

BROKEN

By 
Phillip Chidavaenzi

The poignant loneliness, 

In your eyes, 

With sadness I read 

Like the biting lines, 

Of a poet so heart-broken

The silent tears, 

Throughout the day I see 

Your sobbing, 

Throughout the silent night

Like glowing cigarette stubs, 

Jab at my heart 

Give me your hand

Through the night

With you, 

I will walk. 

(c) P. Chidavaenzi, July 2 2010.

REST IN PEACE

By Phillip Chidavaenzi

Written in memory of Julius Sekai Chingono

You looked ancient,

Not that you were ancient.

The blaze of youth,

Burnt away the years you carried.

The image of a sage,

Like an old glove,

Comfortably you wore.

Like that hat,

So familiar a part of you,

In the literary corridor,

Forever stand tall you will.

In the corridors of my mind,

The echo of your heartfelt laughter,

I still hear.

Too soon you went away,

Before we had fully partaken

Of the riches of your wisdom.

Yea, mine blaster,

Our straight-jacket conventions

Away you blasted,

With the satire of your tongue

With the needle-tip of your pen.

May your dear soul rest in peace,

Jolly old fella,

But forever young at heart.

(C) P. Chidavaenzi, 1 July 2011.