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"chimanimani" poems
You can tell by a pale shadow of former self And  shape of the scattered pieces You can tell , From the pieces of the once bread basket of Africa That someone is slowly And artistically looting the store  I can see, The trailing blood and the aura of warmth That there was once, Electrical pulse of the heart As povo cry, For broad-based   and inclusive Dialogue to rescue, Yes! I could hear,increasing  calls  for  precipice And wails to  avert further  implosion    And the winds of memory floating by The crescendo in the calls for sound talks Yes sound dialogue, In the wake of an  increasingly restless citizenry struggles Still dustbin  of a golden history You can sense from the tremble of the chambers The undying pulse and the scent of a beloved That the heart once danced to a dreamers' beats To them tears are, The horse pipes they use to water their worth To multitudes,tears are words the heart can’t express As the black cloud  sheds  rays  of hope   Still leaves “imminent light” behind As the mass bank hope In our eternal message of hope Ushered by Martin Luther King, Jr.   "One day  dawn will come". I can see  traceable  traces Of corrupt foot prints And  traceable track record Of 'prominent' looting finger prints As the influential turn aside the needy from justice, Rob the poor Chimanimani people of their right, Making widows  their spoil, And willy-nilly  making the fatherless their prey! Dear LORD! Why  your wrath  upsets not these moral monsters? Who are by no means worthy of following Those that deprive the afflicted Those who because of their  hard and impenitent hearts Attract your necessary reaction to objective moral ill Dear Lord why has your  wrath not fallen On rightful  time? How can hell be just?
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Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 6:07 AM UTC
PALE SHADOW
You can tell by a pale shadow of former self And  shape of the scattered pieces You can tell , From the pieces of the once bread basket of Africa That someone is slowly And artistically looting the store  I can see, The trailing blood and the aura of warmth That there was once, Electrical pulse of the heart As povo cry, For broad-based   and inclusive Dialogue to rescue, Yes! I could hear,increasing  calls  for  precipice And wails to  avert further  implosion    And the winds of memory floating by The crescendo in the calls for sound talks Yes sound dialogue, In the wake of an  increasingly restless citizenry struggles Still dustbin  of a golden history You can sense from the tremble of the chambers The undying pulse and the scent of a beloved That the heart once danced to a dreamers' beats To them tears are, The horse pipes they use to water their worth To multitudes,tears are words the heart can’t express As the black cloud  sheds  rays  of hope   Still leaves “imminent light” behind As the mass bank hope In our eternal message of hope Ushered by Martin Luther King, Jr.   "One day  dawn will come". I can see  traceable  traces Of corrupt foot prints And  traceable track record Of 'prominent' looting finger prints As the influential turn aside the needy from justice, Rob the poor Chimanimani people of their right, Making widows  their spoil, And willy-nilly  making the fatherless their prey! Dear LORD! Why  your wrath  upsets not these moral monsters? Who are by no means worthy of following Those that deprive the afflicted Those who because of their  hard and impenitent hearts Attract your necessary reaction to objective moral ill Dear Lord why has your  wrath not fallen On rightful  time? How can hell be just?
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50
*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*
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Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
a place where people are always falling (Chimanimani Blues)