the yellow moon sank lower
and looked like a wan flower
as with gritted teeth he struggled
against the compulsive urge consuming him
and driving him towards something dire
at the dawn of day crossroads
where shadows and shapes danced
to silent tunes in gleeful abandon
this was his day of morbid harvest
and an ancient debt was about to be paid
with the sweat and fat of ebullient resolve

You want nothing and crave for nothing
only to be by the side of the one who chooses you
That's what happens when home is where the heart is

The sun may shimmer, singe or sear your flesh and your ego
and the rain may fall, patter or pour in heavy sheets cold
You stay because that's what happens when home is where the heart is

When they travel to far-off lands you're in their hearts where it's warm
You're in their  being where you need  no visa or residency permit; and
that's what happens to all and sundry when home is where the heart is

In time the great divide that has pleasure in keeping lovers asunder
silently stalks everyone without favour or discrimination
and creates the one time that the heart cannot be home

the moon tonight my darling
riding the fluffy clouds of night
its aura a lovely ethereal blue
is like the skirt riding your thighs
and i'm thinking, oh that blessed moon!

when you're bigger
are you any bigger, really
perhaps you're just the trigger
of an assortment of events
when by others you're called small
are you in truth really small
perhaps you like playing the victim
with what lens do you look at things
with what misgivings do you struggle
against all the things that in you huddle
isn't it time to dump it all in that puddle
now that the spotlight is on your fuddle
somewhere within sight of your experiences
then walk forward in keeping with your destiny

the clouds hang very low
like my heart rather sore
the distance to the depths
makes your thoughts dizzy
this is the top of the world
made mystic by a waterfall
cascading down the cheeks
of a mythical bride in tears
wetting the earth endlessly
so walk softly here friend;it's
easy to  land on your teeth
tread easy and slow friend
your shoe is all wrong i say
but that's the beauty of it all
people fall all the time here
i too fell in the mist of night
with the sound of the waterfall
lulling my unease till indeed i fell
welcome o you lovelorn people
welcome to this jewel where people
are always falling,  falling in and out
of step with the  wily seasons

young life is  quite distinct
exudes the beauty of innocence
and has curiosity without bounds
calves run about, seized by the paroxysm
of joyful life oozing through milky teats
and lambs and kids not to be outdone
go on crazy adventures on the pastures
Lo and behold, even baby lizards are
projectiles of life bursting from within
life was meant for them and you
brother, the world is waiting out there
what does it matter if after a long journey
you discover you never left the world?

Like a baby
thirsty and hungry
For nourishment
I cry for Mother
In the worst of times
Wanting her
To make the pain go away
For she's where it all ends
And she loves us all
No matter what

reclining upon the wing of a whim
i recall those days of sweet leisure
when you were uniquely a treasure
and i was fully ablaze with pleasure
the sky turned a vivid scarlet
   the wind whispered hot secrets
   and the occasional lull in turmoil
   was like a fresh breath of life
  resting upon cultivated wishes
i recall those days of dew on the grass
and new blooms opening up to the blue day
  so once again comrade and friend, join me in a reverie
spawned on one of our wild safaris in deepest africa

roll into a ball
and be on call
time to time
until the dew
snap and growl
whimper and moan
soar like an eagle
strike like a shrike
hop like a frog
and croak your
anxious moments
with your adam's apple
bobbing in your groans
be sweet as a dream
even when you tense up
your eyes hooded
in those cobra moments
then relax and smile like an angel
you're so venturesome
in your 'bedhaviour'

Does it all lead to just this,
a gaping hole in the ground,
sniffing but impatient mourners
their predictable tissues at the ready?

an all-too-practised priest in familiar garb
does the expected; his suitably tremulous voice
has the standard formality as he goes through the ritual
and those years of convolution spiced with some straight and narrow

do they culminate in this terrible charade?
Surely this can't be it, this cavalier show by fellow-travellers,
by small cliques here and there, sharing juicy titbits of gossip
- least concerned with the slowly sinking forgotten casket

in my heart of hearts i say this can't be it, surely!

Fresh as a hot bun out of the oven
Buoyed by the glee of a bubble bath
Dying to put the best foot forward
Warm tongue of the sun on my nape
I saunter to greet my fate of the day

See how the jealous clouds frown
As they creep in like a jittery thief
Hear the twitter of soft, sad bird song
They know for certain, sultry winter's in
And we must soon be shaking cold

The sons of man are frantic I tell you
Day gone is another chance lost for good
When will they make their mark in life?
Sweeter halves are disillusioned now
They've lived too long on dreams and fantasy

Moon above as daily you court that wily old sun
Teach us the art of relentless patience and labour
Show us how grim persistence matters most
How reward, elusive as ever, comes one sweet day
Though hope diminishes day by day each day

i'd struggle to see anything funny
in a world that was no longer sunny
we'd be penguins on some cold shore
dawdling stiffly in the icy indifference
of those who stand by and watch
they hope in their hard hearts that we slip
and maybe lie there, broken forever, and sleep
the sleep of those who go away and never retun

dancer that you were, you embraced the breeze
and rode its draughts like a lyrical butterfly
but soon your little dance too was done
and your dazed children wailed in the ill wind.
you succumbed to the unknown call of the cosmic bound,
thus lost and stunned we stared at the unfathomable void:
as the erudite sage said, life is about gains and losses
but your going was like a sneaky blow below the belt
now that you're gone i've come to know the bitter loss
of a gifted life nipped in the bud before fruition time
and just how bewildering possibilities erased can be
i know too the cost of it all on torn and tattered mourners
but life does proceed in this way sometimes

the quiet whispers aroused a gnawing doubt
that was insidious, surreptitious and incessant
and spoke to him well above a timid shout
that said verbal power lay in being conversant
with what the heart is and just how brittle it is
when callous heartbreakers are abroad at ease
he pleaded himself vanquished and broken
and said he needed no eleventh hour token
to tease a compliant smile out of the shreds
of self-belief that *****-nilly everyone sheds
when belittled by the mule kicks of misfortune
from belated action when no longer opportune
thus he told his heart to be still and his mind to rest
life and experience had shown him what was best
when the world became a bitter and mazy wilderness
and that, in truth, was his unending epiphany, with
naked truths and outright lies in the dusk that had to come

i am a sorry sight for sure
heading for the grim shore
carrying nothing to show
for all my pain and labours
just a tiny frown on her brow
and i'm reduced to a wreck
just the suggestion of a smile
and i'm in heaven, that fabled
place of purest joy and ecstasy
she plays me like a kora, ethnic
and magical in its call and timbre
and i respond like a typical disciple
and say it is well even when i suffer loss

quivering joystick
mellow honeypot
perfect blend!

fantasies
exciting hues
life is kicking!

huge dreams
coupled creations
cream puff realization!

dimples and smiling eyes
pretty gums drooling
sunshine babies!

art on the clouds
mad shapes
psychedelia anew!

o the futility
wishes were horses
flight and dissipation!

the flier in me is not a fly in the ointment
the flier in me daily basks in ambient glory
the flier in me is a hopeful at your door
waiting to be puzzled by you, the enigma
and betimes be indulged with some attention
the flier in me glitters and sparkles truly
because you're the source of my highness
i rise into the sky and soar into the universe
propelled by the image of your birthday suit
that reminds me that that's the natural thing
to be; naked and noble like a new creation
so there i go again flapping flimsy wings
that nobody sees; feeling like old-time magic
i want to thank you prompt of my quests
i want to thank you agitator of my longing
i want to thank you lovely seer and siren
i thank you for these blossoms open in me
i thank you for teaching me to fly like a bird
straight into the shelter of your cuddly nest
where i shall be anchored in calm waters
and soon rinsed in a cascading shower of bliss
my sweet seer and siren, i promise you this:
i shall be true though my wings should melt
as did the wings of hapless ikaros the greek

he was scarce
like goodwill
and she was forgotten
like an old world story
till a chance meeting made them gather
crumbs and snippets to weave a fresh ditty
and follow a new dream to the ends of reality

mouth
  minty and fresh
     neck fragrant
           like
lavender in season
         navel
poesy of surprises
    cascading
        gently
into the valley below
where her tulips are
       a bulbous
       perennial
rain forest of ecstasy
profusion and fruition
    after the peak
        later
    his raisiny eyes
and smashed heart
        drool
   at the sight
        of
        her
lilies in the valley

He’s gone flying
Across the azure skies
While in your juices you fry

He’s gone paddling in the lake
Where tiger fish are jumping
While you lie in a puddle

He’s gone wan and solid
And remained stolid
While you wilt like a dying flower

Up Cliff Road I go
steep and taxing beyond compare
Cliff's only claim to fame
is giving a name to this incline
At Cliff's apex I'm at the peak of my endurance
The resident monkeys swing across the branches
This is their last stand; no more running from grasping humans
The rottweiller at the corner is itching to clamp its jaws
around a hairy monkey thigh, but it won't be
Mike the monkey is a survivor even with half his tail gone
I turn right and down the road I go; Simpson Road:
this is the green and leafy part of town; the sprinklers are running
and heavy duty generators are whirring
These mansions are meant for comfort and effect
and the people here have money to spare but never do
Nobody talks audibly here; it's uncivilized to broadcast your conversations
I walk on past the heap of imported top soil -
someone here means to get someone to toil
to create a monumental fad to make posterity eat its heart out
The birds are whistling outdoor tunes, generic as always
There's a grumpy old timer by the corner, but today I'm not in the mood
for his nausea and his nostalgia; everything is disgusting
and nothing measures up anymore
Retracing my steps I go back up Simpson Road
and turn left into Cliff Road where the sight of the jacaranda blooms
is like a breathtaking sight of purple showers of rain
I'll walk this lane again and again till I am sated

Jeannie
is off to the bus
Jeannie
waltzes to the bus
Ooh what a drag
the conductor says
Jeannie
the bus is full
Jeannie
has a heartbreak
it was
all for nothing
the perfume
the high heels
and
the walk on air

talk to me directly, **** you
look me in the face and see me
see me smile an authentic smile
talk to me directly,**** you
you have a silent wall around you
your gripping app has you enthralled
everything you do is choreographed
and you get your kicks from the selfies
you're at sea when it comes to real humans
warm, tender and wanting your attention
real people with brittle hearts that break
real people that you cannot programme
for there are no icons for such phenomena
so look at me and talk to me, **** you
lest we get lost in a world gone mechanical

your words are like soft pattering rain
falling upon multiple consciences
on the day after nasty weather
and the predicted heat wave

your words drip from invisible funnels
and sweeten the air that we breathe
verily  verily you're the voice of doom
lulling our beings into a deep slumber

there will be pangs and passions galore
in this world of moneyed automatons
who smack their pale but avaricious lips
that spew stale drivel from dead hearts

lo and behold the bell tolls indeed
and we stagger forth in compliant unison
and wait for the confessions of the age
words about how we slid into turmoil

swallowed in an abyss of sticky froth in bubbles
and a cacophony of dismal largo choruses
that say it's time for another thorough round-up
as the skies darken and the rain comes down in sheets

forever a curse and a blessing unavoidably certain
so friend and brother from another place and another time
let's do this thing together and crush this flea that won't flee
generous givers are beckoning frantically from the horizon

every walk that i take
every gaze up the avenues
exposes every low lie
about human progress
the glamour and the glitz
muffle the hungry cries
of bewildered no-hopers
the litter and the clutter
tell a story of decadence
and broken down values

I’m full of loud buzz
I’m a fizzy in a glass
I’ve got true class
to crown my suavity
I boast shining amity
in the seething cauldron
of a churning world
that our forbearers
would swear  always
was tossing and turning
and writhing and sighing
as equilibrium dissipated
at a time not anticipated
a time to lie down and cry
for the gory scenes in the world

day cold as indifference
needing warmest apparel
booming business at coffee houses
long-forgotten thick coats out one more time
but see this steely stranger
barefoot like Sage Mutabaruka
and ******* clad in this rabid weather
smile like summer sunshine on a tropical beach
wants nothing and asks for nothing
his warmth is inside
where passions are generated
hypothermia has no chance with him

you flaunt your glad rags
and taunt me for my shreds
you're a human rainbow
in a riot of colour and style
your shoes are from italy
a rich cobbler's work in genoa
your floral tie is pure chinese
with dainty designs and rich feel
you still speak well of pepsodent
and the wonders of fresh breath
compared to you and your riches
i'm an imitation human being
eating fruit and raw vegetables
while you wax lyrical on lasagna
chilli con carne and and tequila
at some up-market restaurant
in the leafy part of town
where your fleet of cars is a marvel
compared to my lowly fare your affluence
is almost banal in its carefree loudness
you've never worn broken shoes ever
or had a toe peep out of smelly socks
and you've never gone without food
surfeit is your other name, and everything
is a gas; your wild parties are legendary
i see all this from my hole in the ground
safe in the stench of the bad characters
that loiter and swagger in my world
blessed are the rich and famous of our times
for they shall only discover their poverty
when the party is over and it's time to go home

With the furrowing of my intelligent brow
With my glistening muscle and brawn
And my rhythmic thrusts in shrouds of mist
Father, see me build a home for the young

With my smile and my agony alternating
And formidable forces galore frustrating
The creativity of my persistent yearnings
Father, see me build a place called home

With pangs of regret and sorrow banished
In moments of temporary accommodation
And with joy unlimited in the ascendancy
Father, see me build from a fusion of desires

Spurred on by the mellow essence of femininity
Wrapped like a surprise in garments of pleasantry
Blown gently to float like soap bubbles in the air
Father, thus see me grip an opportunity come

with mouth rich like an oracle dispensing word mysteries
lips ripe and red like the inside of a juicy water melon
eyes like a laser beam searing my conceited heart
she looked my way with demeanor raw and with disdain
and the hurt came sliding into my shredded ego
that fell to the floor in a heap of abandoned intentions
she frowned like a queen on a throne bedecked with silk
and her soft velvet walk was like a bomb in my timid ears
as once more she cast a regal look at the mere human that I was
and again the hurt came sliding in with the writing on the wall
and i knew i was chasing an elusive butterfly in full flight

This old heart of mine
is a veritable mine
of experiences:
joy, sorrow and raw passion
compassion on some occasion

This old heart of mine
has served me true and faithful
humouring my every mood
with percussion sublime and varied:
       slow and dignified beats for prayer and devotion
       fast and furious when I must flee some terror
       joyful and expectant when she passed by
       chaotic and bewildered when I'm discarded

This old heart of mine
has seen me through times hard and easy
I begin to take her for granted
Though there's a price to pay
For, certainly, one of these days she'll beat no more

The fiery winds whistled
As another fateful dawn
Materialized in the east
And the east was red!

Silhouettes danced in the shadows
And the bullets swished and sang
A macabre melody to celebrate a ****
With mirthless abandon

But you came out unscathed
Your time had not come
You’d live to tell the tale
And ask the questions of the times

from my little nook
in the pale shadows
of recalcitrant time
hawk-eyed i shall sit and watch
see you fall and rise
and be a silent witness again
to life being the sly master
in whose reticence we sink
as its lessons pass us by

My usual hard-sole morning walk
My candid talk with the devils in me
My necessary ritual right on cue as always
And the images from my mental shelf
Tumble out, then push and shove for prominence

The usual stop near the tall reeds
The soothing dose of lilting bird song
The throaty baritone of the lazy bull frog
And  the rapture is complete and infectious
In this mellifluent music of the open air

The unfailing breeze whistles a tune of freedom
As the supple  green reeds dance to the elements
Freedom is all around and I am a firm believer
A willing cadre on this road that travellers tread
And for one sated moment I am Che in a beret

Free to roam and free to wish for and dream
Of a world where life is a daily festival

In that moment for mementos
When everything will stand still
We shall remember sentimental tokens
Of promises made in the heat of an embrace
And feel that we let slip drafts of elevated joy

indisposition, indisposition
you drive a hard bargain!
indisposition leave me till it's done
leave me
till I've kissed a girl and made her cry
leave me
till i've written my story in one word
leave me
till i've been to the ends of the earth
leave me
till i've died a little for everyone
indisposition dear taskmaster
leave me
till i've made amends for all the crazy things i've done
and for all the phenomenal things i haven't done
indisposition leave me be
till aching dreams have eased into being
leave me
till i have proven my traducers and detractors wrong
indisposition, then and only then
can i float and gloat like a happy ghost
forever in ethereal limbo before the next airy phase
indisposition,
leave me till it's done!

the brooding night lay quiet
in the stillness of arid shadow
and wayward shapes amidst
the soft fluffy moonlit clouds
stripped down to wondrous
pieces of surrealistic attire
sired by nights of wild fancy
these nights were made for us
we the hopelessly captivated
suns of a witless universe
we whose  entrapped light
would not glow or glimmer
even as the dark screamed
its innocence; and in all this
was none so sorry and poor
as the hapless hopeful few

Pain for you never again this side of life
All is now calm and easy and so sail on
True to this life's eternal golden rules
Rich in truth and kind you'll for ever be
If sturdy as can be, these rules you breathe
Cherishing morsel and largess in measure alike
Knowing that times move towards a zenith

you dazzled me with your antics
then mesmerized me with your acraobatics
till i crumbled before an expert onslaught
led from the front  by the mood swings
embedded in your hurtful shifting values

a sullen blue monday
can be a lovely green haven
when new profound thoughts sprout
and we know then that heaven is a state
induced by the euphoria and warmth
radiated by the creative hub on the hearth
that incubates our long-suffering dreams
let us go forward then, today a mess of hopes
and tomorrow couch potatoes venture out

a wayward wind blasted heresies my way
and i rode its juggernaut almost to dusty oblivion
but my saviour was never ever too far away
that maestro whispering ditties at my window
and just before the fall she licked my ear
with a tongue laced with a golden truth:
the poetic route is a trip to redemptive ecstasy

You’re coy and detached
Like the proud moon
Bathed in silvery light

You’re so distant
Like the timid stars
Twinkling across the void

I am hot and boisterous
Like that old sun above
Melting your reticence away

Woo me as you do the sea
Stir up upheavals in the seasons
Of my renewed yearnings

With you life is a fantasy
Resplendent in stellar light
As the ancient dance  intensifies

the haloed sun above winked like a sage
and its searing smile stirred coy memories
that sailed the blue sky like feathery petals
cascading like a shower of floating fancies

and in a shallow pond above the rapids
where the waters gurgled and roared
their call for blessings at the mystic waterfall
the kingfisher was soon to be with the grateful dead

the couple engrossed in the snares of scented life
gazed up at the sky in search of the evening star
that twinkling would witness a girl taken to wife
in the misty coolness of a spray of charmed wishes

the timid bride with latent fire in her heart and limbs
had a wet kimono wrapped around her treasures mild
she prayed that if she be preyed upon it had to be wild
and abandoned; consuming even as the sun danced its exit

a snaky trickle of golden warmth poured down like honey
coursed through the articulate body to coagulate inside her cup
and she became paralyzed with the joy and wonder of creation
enacted once again in this moment of pleasurable stillness

and the first of her petals was well on its way to necessary ejection
and a soft landing in the hearts of those who wait for signs

it is all rather insincere and futile
when you’re old and almost senile
to try doing a few  new things this late
on the premise better late than never
you will learn much to your chagrin
how your remorse and deep regret
fail you and there’s no peace ever
lesson for us all dear fellow wayfarers:
‘isikhumba sigoqwa sisemanzi’
‘tis best you tan a hide in its freshness