NDABA SIBANDA - POEMS

​Sibanda is the author of Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing and Football of Fools.
Ndaba Sibanda`s work is featured in The New Shoots Anthology, The Van Gogh Anthology edited by Catfish McDaris and Dr. Marc Pietrzykowski, Eternal Snow, A Worldwide Anthology of One Hundred Poetic Intersections with Himalayan Poet Yuyutsu RD Sharma scheduled for publication in Spring/Summer 2017 by Nirala Press and Seeing Beyond the Surface Volume II.

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​Boyhood And Victimhood

​boisterous boys
in an act of mudslinging sibling rivalry
are roughhousing around in naivety
they bully and bury their differences
 
violent men
in charge of countries and armies
are different from those sharing
a raucous radio panel discussion  
 
they
invent self-defense mechanisms
lies and farcical foes and fools
and play victim to their drama

​When A Howl Becomes Handy

Hlengi was behind the wheel
Voiceless, visualizing a deal
 
Her fingers frail, itching
For a windfall, a fine find
 
Famine had been her friend
Her downfall for a long time
 
Her hopes hurt by haziness
And people`s deceitfulness
 
She had become strain`s
Playground and internee
 
She had to hustle, to act
Debt dated her every day
 
Negotiating a sharp bend  
Her eyes were caught by
 
Something that froze her
A gun was pointed at her!
 
She knew she was a kill
His game, if she defied  
 
She braked the vehicle
With a jerk, unsure, unsafe
 
  
 An idea capered around in her
Head, on the face of it was folly
 
Anger and anxiety spinning
Out of control, she yowled
 
“I`m a magic mermaid-trained
Nyanga. Let me teach you aaaa….!”   
 
Unease eased into the captor
For he fled the scene like a fly!  ​

​Those Must Fall

​Fetch your tools, let us march and avert further damage
Our gardens are under siege, their greenery despoiled
They are marching, moving en masse as they raid and ruin
They devour just about everything in their wake, in their path  
 
Fetch your tools, let us march and avert further damage
These destructive pets have no shame, silly insect armies!
Look how they are active at night, attacking our crops and grass
During the day, wriggling, hiding under our garden rubbles!
 
Come, let us take a closer inspection of our plants and prospects
Look at the armyworm eggs, let beneficial insects feed on them!
Set our caterpillars on them, hashtag:  harmful little predators
Tell our farmers to take to twitter and twit: armyworms- must -fall

A Solid Past ​

​She felt the fire
As heat surged higher
 
It was tasty and tactile
Its flames vocal and visual
 
Like a blind lover, her passage was tough
His love was designed to be perceived by touch
 
Her concrete care enabled him to be her part
And feel the warmth and bigness of her heart
 
It had a rare palpability, a pleasant presence
But now its presence is a memory, an obsolescence

For All Time`s Sake

​that`s Sir Phuzile on a Friday  
his noise  knows no boundaries
offloaded on the earth`s eardrums
every sane  soul within earshot drowns
under its rubble of intoxicants and toxicants
tonight his kids might have to retreat into their rooms
for the sake of their peace of mind and normality of ears
attached are their staggering dad`s PDF files of silly soliloquies
his head is emailing horror to his family in place of hoorays of union   
how will they format his virus-ridden USB of  foul words and breath?
 somebody needs to delete his uploaded files of threats once and for all

Never Mind Them

A few months ago Thathawena made a vow
She looked for the highest hill and made a roar
 
Never ever will I ever tuck into any kind of meat
Never ever will I wear a high heel, was her swear
Everybody said: vegetarian, do your stuff, no sweat
Found chewing chicken, cheating on her diet: how dare!
 
That Friday her high-heeled shoes looked exclusive & precarious  
Revelers’ roars of criticism meant nil, her dish wasn’t mysterious ​