NDABA SIBANDA - POEMS

Sibanda is the author of Notes, Themes, Things And Other Things, The Gushungo Way, Sleeping Rivers, Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing, Football of Fools, Cutting-edge Cache, Of the Saliva and the Tongue, When Inspiration Sings In Silence, The Way Forward, Sometimes Seasons Come With Unseasonal Harvests, As If They Minded:The Loudness Of Whispers, This Cannot Be Happening :Speaking Truth To Power, The Dangers  Of Child Marriages:Billions Of Dollars Lost In Earnings And Human Capital, The Ndaba Jamela and Collections and Poetry Pharmacy.  Sibanda's work has received Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. Some of his work has been translated into Serbian and German.

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!
 
 

Bulawayo`s Benediction     
​

​if 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   
her 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
   
 

A Short-lived Incursion Into A Cave
​

​As dusk set in he set out on his trip
in line with the orders and directions
of one local lady prophet and herbalist. 
 
 In one of her burping trances, she stated,
“Listen, I unlock the secrets of the universe,
the mysteries that defy logic and science”.
 
The seer advised him to tread into a nearby cave
and tug any creature he finds by the tail before
sprinting out whilst touching his troubled body part. 
 
 
He wondered what cave dwelling animals he would find,
as he entered he discovered that humidity was high due
to low evaporation rates, oxygen levels were low as well.  
 
During the day the entrance zone usually receives sunlight
but it was already shrouded in complete darkness as if he
had reached the deep cave zone—which is the deepest part.
 
The true cave dwelling animals, the troglobits live in the deep zone.
In the dark he drifted and strained his eyes and guess what—came
across an accidental, a visitor or an animal that seeks a brief shelter.
 
Was it a real person? If so, was the person running away from a predator?
Was he or she a speleologist? Was he looking at a wandering ghost?
When the shadowy thing edged toward him, he shrieked and sped away!     
 
 
 

A Headlined That Converted Her

​On being asked why she decided
To become a feminist and a spinster,
She pulled out a front-page with pride,
They concluded her decision wasn’t sinister
A sense of justice said to them: lend an ear
By the way, the caption cried like this:
WIFE TRADED FOR BEER
Surely, for beer, wife, goodbye you kiss?

Behind Peterson`s Case Was Sentimentality ​

​The Bulawayo man courted a controversy 
Please beautiful bottom: he pleaded for mercy 
The stunned magistrate said: I crave your pardon?
Behind her big beautiful behind is me: was his submission 
The divorcing man pleaded with the official to grant him
Custody of her backside, saying he would give up any claim 
The divorcing wife would have none of it: to hell with his claims!
She added that probably the sentimental man had weaning problems!

You Are On Your Own
​

​Upon determining that definitely
motherhood was mutely motioning
she mumbled, moaned and moaned 
about how she would put up with it.
 
The young man who was responsible
for her condition was irresponsible.
Hadn’t he told her again and again
to be an impermeable goalkeeper?
 
“You had better be a good goalie,
if you grant me-- a great goal-getter--
 a free kick or worse, a penalty kick,
you`re on your own after a score!”  
 
Her friend told her of a procedure,
it was not only an excruciating one
but the physical and mental damage 
led to lifelong health complications.
 
She wouldn’t go down that painful path.
How would she ever live with herself
after committing such a chilling eyesore?
Perhaps parenthood is pretty, she decided.  
 

A Delicate Delivery ​

​rows of white cotton balls roared  
delicate, feathery, they swelled 

up in the sky, dark clouds spread
out their legs, hidden was a seed,

little whispers about their abdomens
were that they were hasty distensions

but the pregnant clouds were heedless  
heavy with rain, they were ready & reckless

maybe there was love, they went into labor
there were prayers for a delivery that was sober