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.

​Just A Jostling Village

​they live in a village far from the city of madness 
they have only ever been to the seaside 
next to the city twice  but their lunacies 
and absurdities  far  outnumber
those of ten crazy cities 
one can ever imagine 

they say they do not want to live in a city 
where police stations are robbed every day--
where marriage counsellors are in the habit 
of filing for divorce, where working is not working for many--
where flameproof fire stations have an appetite for burning down--
where purity is as clear as mud, where love is cash, poverty is worthy!
where normalcy is as sweet as seeing pregnant virgins high on the pill! 

​A Tale Of Abuses And Lies And Ruins

​When lying is pathological and pathetic 
Redemption is an inaccessible destination 
When the sanctity of life is an unsung song  
Whilst repression runs hell-ward on the guitar
And women are raped by security personnel
Detect the odor of disorder and damage there!
When citizens are sacrificed and sliced into silence 
Alongside with the country and care and the constitution 
Know that such impunity is the hand of decay and doom  
Higher is Humanity because it cannot shed tears that are fluent
In pampering and patting and sugarcoating wickedness and folly  
Deception dines with pride and lies and absurdities as if it has the licence
To fool or ruin forever but such delusions cannot lull loving Justice into silence
For such savagery typifies gross violations of human rights and civilisation itself 

​ That Too Shall Pass Or Be Tamed

​the water rarely flew slowly, softly,  sweetly or soothingly 
often the stones were rummaged and roughed and rolled on  
many a time they were hauled along, and if ever they shrieked
no one heard them, or cared or the voice of the flowing water 
did what it did—danced and drowned their pleas and whispers 

now and then they were covered in sand, singing in silence 
pebbles were like positive people progressing and pleading   
in spite of lives ‘staircased’ with slippery dryness and soreness
their bodies subject to disease, decay, decline and even death
but the magnificence and resilience of their hopes roaring on

the stream sang its way across  the hills and anthills after a torrent 
the shrubs and grasses bustled with life, their smiles merry and exultant 
at night the lightning had leered at the village, sending shivers down its spine   
the wind had stalked and hissed through yards, driving sheets to gripe and grieve 
bullied by deadly droughts before ,the souls were set to thread the path of plenty   

Let Today Smooth Into A Ruddier Tomorrow ​

​he confided in me and confessed to you
that you added salt and herbs 
to his life on this earth

he admitted that you added flavouring 
to his thoughts and dreams
and made life spicy and worthy

you once told me it was your wish 
to spice up his walk on this earth
and crown him your happy hubby

you ululated when he arrived
your heart had wings that flapped
without fail into your own realm 

you did because you turned
his nightmares into reveries
his frowns into oceanic smiles

a king and a queen the two were 
there was a streamlet of grace
and a rainfall of glee, go girl !   

you were a fantastic twosome 
together you cruised & conquered  
with your love you climbed scenic peaks   

in you I caught the sweet music of a river
its water flowing, crooning, coddling 
a tributary , a torrent, a watercourse 


when his happiness greeted your heart 
I caught sight of your salt and pepper 
in action—your oak of love seasoning 

that was my take, my reasoning then
till he claimed you turned his dreams
and thoughts---his walk into a horror! 

now you tell me he too turned
your therapy into tragedy-- 
your walk into a wasted war!

now who wants to be in the shoes
of this shrink who is probing this puzzle
till his head is a hairless horror itself?!


part of me says :walk away from war girl
yet another tells me to tell you:
let today mellow into a rosier tomorrow