Where’s the Love?

Often, when my eyes survey the world

They see joy lost and everywhere peace is gone;
And to earth falls flat pleas as dreams lay torn

From the lips of tears and misery I hear anguish

In panic my blood runs cold at things that unfold

When I shake hands with hurts and pain and melancholy.

It’s here I asked myself, where is the promised love?

With hope bereft and despair disguised as gentle arms

I went to the church and feathers of hope fell off me

I went to the village grounds and met open betrayals

On each street corner are greed, paybacks and spite

And all that can break your back left me dismayed.

I choked on the smiles on lips and the love on fingertips

And I asked myself, where is the love we talked about?

I cannot be at peace when people are not free.

And all that come to sooth the soul is angst
I ask myself is this what the revolution was about?

I see people who cannot marry the love of their lives.
I see countries and families torn apart by war and strife.
I met the nakedness of freedom, racism and inequality,

With a wounded heart that silently weeps

I do not think this is how it's supposed to be.

Like a seed that blows in the gentle breeze,
I want to spread love and put bigotry down on one knee.
Every human and every soul deserves happiness.
They shouldn't be harmed; we must lose bitterness.
But why have we lost love in our world?

Deep within my heart, there is a scorching flame
That demands I help my fellow man and woman
They scream at me to give them my hand.

My one wish is to deliver upon the world a soothing rain.
To cast away the reign of intolerance and fear,
To deliver humanity from tyranny's pain and torture

That a lifeless soul or a faceless one losses not the self

The Divorce

Fudzikomele, who will believe this?

I walked through the front door,

And you said, “Get Out of my Face!”

You said, “Else, you will find yourself finished.”

Today, I walked through the front door again,

And you said: “Look at the time! Look at the time!”

Thank you; I stepped out through the front door again

I didn’t see a thousand flaming trees on the road.
Instead, hills fell over each other, royally, to greet me.

By daily dying, I’ve learned to be.

I hope my silences are accurate and true

Maybe, it’s true, in the dark eyes begin to see better.

I Love the Rain

Whenever it rains, I feel so free
Like a bird, that I want to kiss the rain.

I see the rain washing away our quandaries
Quenching our sun baked soul.

While others rush for cover under eaves
I let the rain beat upon my head like a song

Last night the rain played a sleep song on our roof
It made me love the rain more.

I wish it will rain every Friday

To make pools on the sidewalks and we all sleep.

Once We Were One

For once 

we were nothing, 

yet my people, we were one.

Somewhere in the forgotten world 

we both climbed each other,
cleaved and cleaved to one another.

We both heard the years hurtling past,
whirring like gears in a hulk factory.

We saw kin and kith breathing,
we gathered our thoughts like defetsui leaves

For the diviner and if some death was coming this way

it will go beyond our ears.

Even before we took Kete to Datsutagba 

there were no doubts swarming 

like reconnaissance planes over forests of sleep,

we were one.

We only heard words murmured in love.

What a grand time we were. 

Is it a grand time now?

What a grand time………………….

Where are we now?..

Where are we?

I Love Tennis

I love women's tennis

and God knows I do
but it’s more complicated 
to watch

in every shot

three balls bounce and bounce

and bounce and you get confused
about which ball to see

and my mine 

and Jesus wept

Nightmares

Every night my bedsheets are a snare

I swing, fling and punch my life away

Every night my pillow is a lake
I drown in my own tears without hope

The people I look up to are a harsh sunlight
and their smiles torture and slaughter my dreams

My pain goes deeper into my soul.
it kills my love
the Monster is asleep

I wonder why the sun sinks low
the sky above me burns every little joy I dream

I wait until morning
before my eyes close

in my tears I drown
in my dreams I die

screams woke me
oh, those are mine
I'm sorry
didn't mean to wake you
no, I'm fine
just a nightmare

just a nightmare
until you came in my dreams

The Monster eats pretty princesses when they close their eyes.

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern:

The words stood long by his side

Like a watchdog at the entrance of memory
This is how he will be remembered.
When they say the last farewell.

He stood looking as if he was solidified
He remembered his dreams for his children
On the verge of difficulties where he saw death

Where he lived without life and faced terror

And danced through profound darkness.

Yet, before the sun set coldly that noon
One walked to his window and looked at him

You are not my father, my father is God in the sky
How odd, he thought, to be blessed with a cuff

But of course, he was blessed to know it now.

To whom it may concern:

The words stood long by his side

And he remembered the journey, the tight pants
The sea-lions barking, and he smiled at her

Who saw a doctor of misery in the father.

How do I love you?

(For You, on Mother’s Day)

Since the morning of that day we met

I’ve seen the moon refusing to set
Nature itself has declined to go to bed

I’ve seen the rainbow play long on the sunlight,

As if there is something going on in the universe.

They all saw our love as supreme in the veldt.

Ever since we met, I’ve told myself,
You will forever find me waiting for you,
Painting pictures of us on every single moment of time
I’ll always be joyful with you and no one can understand,
Why I love you so much since the morning we met.

Each day, I see minutes take so long to drift away
They just want to catch a glimpse of us in love

And dream of a season like ours when they’ll know love
Let them wait, when in the evening I fly you in velvets
They’ll stare at the ceiling of the sky and smile at us.

I’ve promised myself that wherever I'll be

I’ll let the sun of an unequaled love shine on you
We’ll carry that forgotten fire of love across the universe
To kindle yawning spirits with the language of love

Which you taught me since the morning we met.

The Jewel

This morning you and I are being toasted

In every alley of the village because you are mine. 
The day I met you was a wish come true for the women. 

Grandma says: your smile brings out the best in the village,
The women also say you are the greatest gift ever.
It’s the way you smile and laugh and show your love.

Ever since you came, the sky shows a new shade of blue. 
It is brighter, like the gods are revealing their feelings;
And we melt every day when we look into your eyes. 

With you we will make it through every thick and thin;
As long as you are with me like the pea is to the pod, 

Our heart will grow together to weather every storm.  

One thing do I ask of you: can you never say never;

Can you always be loving and kind, so gentle, and so sweet, 
And with you by my side, life will be simply complete.

Phone Calls from Home

I still receive phone calls and emails mostly from

cracked-up friends caught up in huge dreams, with no hope,

just booze and crazy American madness.

Most of their calls are flashes—“Call me back.”

They want some recognition of where they are

and it’s true, I was there, worse off than most of them.
but I wonder if they realize when their callS arrive?

When I’m dead in the library, when I am frozen in asleep.

They talk of a long driveway leading
to a four car garage, rose garden, blue skies, fruit trees,
beautiful women, a new car each month, red carpet freeways

and dream of fairy-tales in America the beautiful.

I’m 69 years old now and can’t go on retirement;

Oh! How much this flesh had to suffer, yet cannot die;

Hmm! How much this heart had to bear, yet cannot break;

raises questions that these painful tears cannot tell.

I still receive their phone calls and emails.

One came this morning when I was shuddering

At the surgeon’s knife, searching for quivering life
but death chooses its own time; not till all evils are borne.

Is the Price Right?

Marry in gray, and you’ll go lost far from home,

Marry in black, and you’ll wish yourself back home,
Marry in brown, and you’ll live out of town forever
Marry in red, and you’ll wish yourself dead
Marry in pearl, and you’ll live in a whirl every day.

Marry in green, and you’ll be ashamed to be seen,
Marry in yellow, and you’ll be ashamed you did,
Marry in blue, and you’ll know he won’t always be true,
Marry in pink, and your spirits will sink and stink,
Marry in white, and you’ll know you have chosen alright.

Marry on Sunday and you’ll feel sorry forever

Marry on Monday and you’ll mar thy days

Marry on Tuesdays and you’ll twist your life

Marry on Wednesday and you’ll wed the ignorant

Marry on Thursday and you’ll turn blue

Marry on Friday and you’ll fry your heart

But, marry on Saturday and you’ll be soaked in something.

Is the price right?

Do the math.

What Is Dying?

What is dying?

I am standing on the seashore alone
Like a ship about to sail this morn.

But the morning breeze is far from me.

How do I sail? Am I not a dead man?

At the seashore I see many ships sailing freely.
Mine is an object and I stand watching her
Till at last the sun fades from the horizon.

What is dying and am I not as well dead?

I looked up across and someone at my side said,

“Your boat is gone!” and I wondered “But gone where?”
“Surely, it’s gone from my sight,” I thought to myself.
What is dying if this is not death?

Today I’m a mast, a hull and a spar to all ships,
I bear the load of living freights to their destinations.
But soon, I’ll be diminished in size and I’ll be

Lost to sight, totally lost to all faces, to all voices
If there were love, someone would say, “Where is he?”
And other voices would take up a glad shout,

And they would find me alone in the hay-store.
Without a love, I’ve been dead many years ago.

And God said: who can bring these dead bones to life?

My Love and All

Last night I fell asleep
And saw you dancing in my dreams
Just like the autumn leaves
Have fallen for you, all for you

And you changed my life
You changed my ways
I don't even recognize myself again
It must be a reflection of you, that made it

I can't remember the last time I felt love like this
I can't imagine living life without you by my side
Day after day you find a way to make me cry
Really, I can't remember the last time I felt love like this

My arms still hold you tight like in my dreams
I want to keep you warm in the coldest night
Where my hand would pull your hair right back

Away from your eyes for you to look into my face

If I knew just how to do it, I'd hang the moon,

And the stars around you to adorn the horizon
But I couldn't make it more beautiful than you
Darling nothing compares to you, my love and all

Her Journey Just Begun

don't think of Ablavi as gone
her journey has just begun
life holds many facets and the Earth is only one
therefore, think of Mother as resting
from the sorrows and the tears
in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days nor years

think how she must be wishing
that we know, life brings tears, smiles and memories
and though our tears may dry, and our smile fade
it is only our memories that live on forever

so we must think of her as living,
living in the hearts of those she touched
for nothing loved is ever lost-
and she was loved so much

so, don’t stand by and grieve and weep
she is not here nor dead
she is the thousand winds that blow in the veldt
she is the diamond glints on the sky
like the sunlight on ripened grain

she is the soft refreshing rain
that falls on a hot summer afternoon
and when we awake in the morning's hush
she is the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight
she is the star that shines at night
to bring you a smile that none can steal
when death leaves a heartache no one can heal

To my Ancestors

my silence salutes the tall Dreams

of the Dead who withdrew from here
to roam over fine mountains and
frighten hawks reshaping my dreams

sometime the sound and throbs of their breath
is a rage of blood in eons of anger with stones and axes
at times they come as Fumes of Smoke
on a Dark Noon to take me across rivers of Solitude

but I sometimes wonder if while tip-toeing

in the fog of foreign suits we have not lost sight

of the ancestors' humorous laughs

at the steps we place in the quicksand 

and call ourselves special names

sometimes I stroll around the roundabout of my memory
when carving affections for my dead soul
in unforgettable words like a master-butcher

who picks up the axe and dismembers parts of goat-meat

that tastes so good and says, tonight there will be another party
with champagnes in place of palm wine

I have grown sick of songs of sorrow
I want to cross the rivers of solitude
sing new songs of joy to celebrate the past and present
and sing and dance in gratitude for life at Home

but will my ancestors be accustomed to forgiving me
every day for the loss of my Soul
the Soul lost in the fog of foreign suits

Junkie on the Block

You want to claim the easiest spot

and drink from the clearest stream.

 

You dream of having the loveliness of the lady butterfly

and glow and glow while hanging on the green leaf.

 

So you sail down smoothly into the soft woods

changing yourself often to stay like a friar in the cathedral.

 

Often you walk the paths looking out like a pregnant lizard

from her perch calculating your moves.

 

Hmm, your judgment is tainted by movies so old,

just ride the subway to where there’s kissing in public.

  

Do you know, when the market is over

all sellers pack and head home?

 

When the drumming is ended

the drums lay quiet and the dancers

go to their homes

 

Why do you linger on the streets of my peace

after you’ve dreamt the night away

and held my dreams in flickering constellations?

 

Why do you snap your teeth like a dog waiting for a cookie,

yap and bark like a pup facing terror of smells and sights.

 

I think, I have known hundred smells

but the fresh spring air has swabbed my mental deck.

 

I’ve no calendar to tell you when spring will go,

it’s as simple as that.

 

The drumming is over

and now you want us to dance to which song?

v. Once We Were One

 

Should we have stayed at home and not thought of here?

Each question we ask on the road is answered by the echo

of our voice alone.

 

All these years of talks and laughter, what did we want

and didn’t know we can’t have it?

 

All these years to offer up our specks of life

only to be imbedded in fragile fabrics of a vast mosaic body;

 

how could they defoliate the field we live from

and talk of people caring for each other, I have no answer.

 

Should we have stayed at home and not thought of here?

 

And I paused to look for peace in the long silence

and for a moment I remembered the fields of praise

on which my umbilical cord was buried; and I saw the end

just as a straw, a feather furling slowly down to a light.

 

Should we have stayed at home and not thought of here?

 

For a moment all my tears were used up;

all I could do was use my dry eyes to draw a fabled bird

migrating away from its nest and breeds in America.

 

I can hear all broods like sparrows returning

with the common song:

 

no sweating in the dark anymore, no more dying

in the ecstasy, fumbling, floundering like a slave in fire

or drowning in the lime or choking in the crowded sea