Childhood Feels Like Home

Childhood looks like dust covered feet at sunsetM

Making their way in-between the hole riddled fence

After my mother’s call for supper

Childhood smells like blood dripped from big toe

You know the one that collide with this tarmac road

During a game of hwishu

Childhood tastes like sadza mbodza rembida

Made in hole riddled pots salvaged from the rubbish hill right next to road

It taste like the freedom ushered in by our carefree ways

Childhood sounds like the laughter that rings as we laugh at silly sense jokes at the expense of the neighborhood ‘s madman

It sounds like cries over broken friendships

We all know will be mended tomorrow with the rising of the sun

Childhood feels like the warmth of soup on an extra chilly day

It feels like hugs from friends long gone, friends never to be seen again

Childhood feels like home, it’s why we never grow old but stay young at heart

Contours – A Poem

Configured into what is thought to be
Though it never was
Bent to a near breaking point
Forced to conform
These contours, these scars
Signs of victory, signs of perseverance.

Musings of An Unbalanced Soul – A Poem

Peace of the mind

And that of the heart

May coexist

In balance

Or not

– musings of an unbalanced soul

The Flooding – A Poem

Tides are coming anew

That which we once thought was done

Has become undone

They are rushing

To sweep us of our feet

To drown us

To hold us

In water

Gasping

Tides are rising

About Raindrops – A Haiku

Zhizha rauya

Rain drops pitter patter

Shanda hamawe

Sometimes Joy – A Poem

Sometimes

Joy comes

In a form

You never accept

In a little one’s smile

In pen and paper

The smell of fresh paint

Or that of a new book

Evoking feelings

That provoke smiles

Joy comes

When you least expect

It also comes

When you most expect it too

When you go out and reach for it

When you meet it half way

It WILL find you