I could write a thousand words about Zen
But then three or four words
Would be sufficient

No doubt.
The piece of gum
Naughtily stuck under a school desk

Instead of thrown in the dustbin
They say smoking's a disgusting habit
But gum is messy
Gets everywhere if you
Aren't careful

Nicotine gum?
The bane of smokers
They say it tastes
Foul

But gum
Either way
Comes in all varieties
Sugarfree I favour
Bad for the teeth
Otherwise -

Raspberry, strawberry, mint, spearmint
The never-ending flavours of life
On this planet

One would think of Aswan
Or the Three Gorges Dam

But here we are discussing
A dam a few metres wide
And a couple more metres long

And barely up to your waist
If you stood at the deepest part
The African rains
Were plentiful
This year

Even with the best rain
The dam doesn't spill
It's always a point to be made

This is a family dam
On the family property
Strange in a city...

But still pretty
Surrounded by grasses and reeds
Covered in water-lilies
The occasional heron
Stops by

Its slender grey neck -
A sight

Gameboy versus home-made
Amplifiers

Computer games
Before the desktop
Took over the world
(laptops came later)

King Kong and Worms
Idly passing the time
Of Day
Of Night
Games, Games

Gameboy - a child's
Victory over adults
Who never take the time
To play, play

Pots, pans and plates
Pots, pans

And the larder
A ghost house
Trembling

The larder
Stocked with oats and rice
Pots

And when it is time to cook
And then the gas stove is lit for
A feast

Pots, pans and plates
- Rows of jars line
The windowsill

Preserves, chutneys, jams
Preserves, chutneys
- and mango atchar

That reminds me
Of India
Oh! Lord Gandhi!

Tumbling down a hole in the earth:
Alice and her wonderland

(but that was just a mistake
of writing)

I was talking about the bushes in my garden
And the open skies
Of the lowlands;
What of it?

There is a colourful little finch
in the shrubs of my garden

There is a majestic eagle
(they that live here call Chipungu)
A self-contained buttress against
The blue heavens

Africa:
It is a lost place
One thinks of sunny
Blue skies
And then thunderstorms

Of running through
Vast, vast, vast
Open grasslands

Of cooking on a fire,
Of looking out
Over the hills of our
Homeland, homeland, home -
Land, land, land