NDABA SIBANDA - POEMS

​Ndaba`s poems have been widely anthologised . Sibanda is the author of Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing, Football of Fools, Cutting-edge Cache: Unsympathetic Untruth, Of the Saliva and the Tongue,The Gushungo Way and When Inspiration Sings In Silence.  His work is featured in The Anthology House, in The New Shoots Anthology, and in The Van Gogh Anthology, and A Worldwide Anthology of One Hundred Poetic Intersections. Some of Ndaba`s works are found or forthcoming in  Page & Spine,  Peeking Cat, Piker Press , The Ofi Press Magazine ,SCARLET LEAF REVIEW  Universidad Complutense de Madrid, Amazon.ca and the Pangolin.

Rita`s Latest Work ​

​A read that wrenched the reader apart
With charm and wit, what a work of art
Rita`s novel was an epidemic of language 
Her words a contagion, so was her image   

Aunt`s Words Versus Rita`s World ​

​conspirators and isolators   
seemed to be on a mission  
to thrust Rita into a fleabag 

she felt like an unwanted email
in spam filters, a candidate for
deletion, a masked vicious virus 

as if she had a leprosy of deceits   
she was easily avoided by persons 
she called friends ,family and bosoms   

she was in an acerbic quandary, an island 
where she loved without being loved back--
dealt justly in an injustice and a drippy sack  

she tried to talk to them but none chimed in 
and the wayward way her boyfriend acted up--
signaled one emergency away from a breakup 

her aunt told her that not every day is pleasing 
but she had to be pleased with life and its  pigsty 
that she had to be honest in the face of dishonesty       

​A Village High-flier Or Failure?

​were her goals unfeasible?  
folks fast wrote her off 

querying her intelligence 
questioning her aptitude 

querying her station in life
questioning her gender too 

querying her day-dreaming
mentioning her rustic roots
 
her goals were long-term--
what a mere waste of time! 

who the heck did she think
she was to board that train?  

for her it was a proud process 
powered by Practice & Practice 

one player was Perseverance
the goal minder was Resilience

or was it? –or perhaps never mind   
for process was powered by passion

it was not about great grades today
heavy defeats and pains played with her!

at times the train was too hot, too cold 
sometimes too slow, if not still, silly, strident   
  
her tired train bawled:  grit, grit, grit and grit   
as she journeyed her bumpy and mucky journey 

 college authorities slapped her with a mountain
of rules ,roles, responsibilities and examinations   

she didn’t fluke them, and there was no coincidence 
she didn’t achieve her grades by luck rather than skill

fees felt like forks fooling and slitting  her pockets apart
when she fell  pregnant, critics chorused: end of the road!     

she wadded in muddy waters, her intellect drowned, drained 
there was no stroke of good fortune, but ridicule & refutation   

when she held her paper, her key, Purpose gleamed a smile
and congratulated Practice , Process , Perseverance with pride