All She Wanted Was To Be Right her stories buried under an edgy chest, they rioted, rumbled ,seeking to reach a crest inside her silences, her moments of aloneness an interplay between her calms and their rowdiness though untold, they told and retold their sorry stories of moments in time loved, lost into an ocean of memories she feared telling her best friend or her aunt that each time he passed by or she caught sight of his photo, it was a crime she couldn’t find ample pluck to articulate, act on and bare her unheard words housed in hurt and too chocking to share that on boundless nights she turned and twisted on her bed the scars of loneness and longing brutal, heavy, hot and red she turned to her pillow for comfort but it was tough and tight she wasted ages navigating a past that failed to make her right A New Capacity a love scared of past scars of brutal break-ups & bruises of wounded and winding deeds ended up seeking to run away from itself , its past, its shadow stuck in self-dislike, in self-denial a love cynical of delight & devotion fell in love with itself into restoration and treasured its company and its body from self-loathing to self-esteem, self-love it converted and cruised into another capacity a capacity to love another soul without anxiety Deliverance Wand In Their Hands ull of despair , they dreaded it what if the other candidate was evil too? they feared possible unpleasant occurrences after having languished in bondage for forty years they had lost trust, the spectre of brutality and bungling haunted them, persecuted them, their life was a nightmare stripped of humanity and human rights, their road was rutted they were their own victims as well as their own emancipators Bulawayo`s Benedictionif ever there was a beautiful brook, then she is the one she is a brook whose waters are destined to deal once and for all with Bulawayo`s perennial droughts & dupes our royal city has a capacity to produce game-changers and Busisiwe is one of them Busisiwe is Bulawayo`s pride a philanthropist whose work speaks a lot about her love for humanity and the city what lurks within her soul is not a malady but a melody exemplary is her track record: orphanages, scholarships, jobs a sleaze-buster, a bold builder of homes ,hopes and horizons her song is a doer and a dancer hers is a song that plays & floats within the depth of her heart it inspires, stirs, and galvanizes hearers to become nothing else but heirs and heiresses, humble heroes and heroines what dances within her heart are the metaphors and mirrors of souls whose lives & dreams and destinies have been touched & transformed & blessed for posterity her name solely means The Blessed One a selfless beauty, she is a blessing to the city a superwoman, she is human ,solid & afloat for Bulawayo`s blues to be overcome, ownership has to be reclaimed, concerted efforts applied as far as Busisiwe is concerned, sleaze has no home in the city if residents want it to be magnificent again The Hooligan In Hell his name was Nice Native all he wished for was neatness his body sprawled on nastiness at the very height of his stupor persistent punches were packed punches that preyed on his person on his private parts & precious peace a booted backside , lined little limbs the thug felt like he was punching what?-- a phantom, hitting a hollowness in hell the hooligan was not a prisoner, hell no! he was notoriously known as For-fuck’s -sake the lout lived large, looted and was let loose for the punched being , being there was hell his crime was his inertia & insentient innocence Little Hills Of Esigodini fabulous sight landforms snake up and down in extraordinary humps of Nature’s poise and pride, breasts of land projecting into charged saddles- midwifed to gush out milk of purity and tranquility; the hills- though small in size, short in height- lug and beam a beauty that towers the sky of my sensuousness; their warmth appendages the body with a nobility priceless, like a cup of undiluted water, they stand out undisturbed, unchallenged by the ever-jerky wheels of seasons and weather; during gusty days their music makes love to my ears with a rare calmness- l feel altogether like abandoning my journey for them, crowning them my beautiful infinity, during sun-drenched days- their seemingly little panorama, drowns and dazzles my eyes into captivity; an image of snug oases- unparalleled greening of my soul, they snuggle me all the way to the apex of amity and stimulation… they vacillate between ideal and real, l relish to no end their serrated depressions and passages that feel me with a passion beyond mere touch and tour, they captivate my touch at will l cannot give them a cursory look- the harder l try to scuttle away the further and so further l gravitate into their cuddling glare; they confer upon me the throne of Nature’s dutiful and indebted admirer of the stupendous dexterity of our Creator; the little hills that dominate my dreams- those that epitomise a hustle-free haven for the breezy incubation and birth of a romance and a love of a lifetime; those are my little hills heal that my soul, they will define and refine my life so that l get to appreciate the meaning of dreams and days- l am not surprised to hear that the these hills are lovers’ haven, the scenery is just compelling, the shrubs and trees ooze a lively life; the serenity is so delightful that it promotes a refreshing union of hearts; they are like alternative therapies- the remedies of matters of the heart, the birds` chirping –mellow mends troubled souls- melts bitterness and rancour- nurses and mesmerises the ears beyond any measurable fears! the shrubs and trees beget an aroma that makes a mockery of artificial perfumes, those hills heal my soul in a high manner! Her Ward And His Ward is there anything better than waking up to bliss in one`s house and heart? I`II transform our ward into a real record luxury with heavenly gardens the aspirant councillor thought she had swayed him into voting for her the male resident laughed till tears showered down his cheeks before uttering: that`s more like finding virginity in the maternity ward, aspiring councillor! Mask Up Or Else…a teen got fed up with looking out of the window and down he glided and out he dashed without a face mask he broke Covid 19 protocols, touched his face twice ,thrice once inside the shop he wandered through its aisles till he was told by an old store worker to wear a face mask or to get the hell out he tried to justify stuff I got bored with staring out of the window at home It shouldn’t be an issue that I`m not wearing a mask I don’t even wear an under… but the worker would have none of it, get the hell out or else, I`II call the cops! The Trials And Triumphs Of The Word Nerds A bumpy path for their pens and papers Alas they gathered gloom, acres and acres Busani and Bongile`s friendship thrived, Born of a shared love of poetry, it lived Busani ruled, inhabited the haiku universe Bongile situated her blend of free verse Into the lived experiences of her readers Both grew and gloried into nerds` leaders That Is How High He Was He said he was praying in tongues When he was taking hard drugs “I ask not to be disturbed please As my court of fun is in session!” Snubbed And StabbedLayelaye grovelled at her feet Pleading with her to be his sweet Yet Ngiyeke kicked him where it hurts By virtue of his history of broken hearts When The Watchful And Fearful Was Caught |
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