MUSIC PLAYED ON DEAD PIANOS

A Thousand tales
Who’s truths were never revealed
A Thousand letters with words
Never to be heard by intended ears
Gathering dust in forsaken shelves
Roses in a dead man’s palms
A blind Man’s vision
Wishing you never knew Astronomy
Before the stars graced the heavens

Gods playing sick jokes with one’s heart
Inflicting pain in the name of character building
Ignoring that it takes ages to heal
Dark thought plagued minds
A melody to the dead
Memories filled with cardio torment

A Lullaby to a breathless child
A mother’s soul flooded with tears
For a child she never got to hold
God took back his gift
A Soothing lie they tell
Feeling undeserving of mini giggles
Goo goo gaa gaas
How can a simple silly sound
Carry so much weight
Fill souls with so much joy
I guess God is cruel
Noah’s flood now lives in the hearts of wailing mothers

Ballads with neither rhythm nor soul
White keys, a bygone feast for termites
Black keys, tuneless as a cordless banjo
Nothing but a heap of forlorn everything
To the Gods, merely or peharps simply
Music Played on dead pianos

Lake Kariba Beach, Siavonga

FORLORN GROUNDS

Painting by Patrick Chilaisha

She left
Despite having all she yearned for
Deep meaningful affection
True friendship
Companionship rooted in pure intimacy
She left it all

The love came from a place of pain
It was rooted in Forlorn grounds
Fertilised in Anguish
Weeded with despair
Watered with hate

She sheltered under an umbrella
To keep it from raining on her
Wore amour to stop cupid’s arrows
Walked towards the light
With a deep sorrowful sadness
But with a heart full of content and satisfaction
Approved by her inner soul.

CLICHÉ or WEIRDO

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who are a shoe that people can tell whether or not it fits without trying it on and those who are a shoe that people have to actually try on to know whether or not it fits.

It’s okay to be either. Just remember that if they know whether or not the shoe fits without trying it on, makes you a CLICHÉ.

Clichés are good because they are predictable hence easier to deal with; Familiar and not scary. They are something people are used to. Expectations are always met.

If you’re a WEIRDO, good luck. You gonna need it in this world. People don’t like strange. Unfamiliar is scary and most of all unpredictable. If they can’t predict, then they don’t know what to expect as the word itself states. This translates to unmet Expectations and people don’t like that.
They always want their fantasies satisfied. Its the way of the world.

So chose which shoe you want to be if you can. If you can’t like some of us, well, you gonna need way more luck than those who chose to be Weirdos.

Shoes

Goddess

I sat next to a goddess
Her kind smile filled me with joy
Her adoration washed my pain away
Her eyes saw me for me
Her touch calmed my storms

SCARS LAST AN ETERNITY

Pen your pain and joy
They say
With age
You will forget these little things

They forget
Ink fades and paper burns.

So I engrave my pain and joy
On my heart skin
Because scars last an eternity.

Silence

Your silence slowly drowns the memory of you in my heart

Like the ocean washes away a message scribbled on the beach

Yet a part of me holds on like a message in a bottle floating aimlessly hoping to reach the intended.

Question is, will the intended respond or simply tossing the Bottle back into the ocean

Left to float to world’s end or perhaps forgotten to the winds of time.

BEAUTY FOR THE EYES TO BEHOLD

I have seen beauty that makes man and beast alike drop their jaw and lose their footing
I have seen beauty that turns wisemen into fools
I have seen beauty that makes white man want to enslave himself to a cocoa skinned beauty

I have seen cocoa coloured lips that drip honey when she speaks
Making wisemen speak like fools
For their minds were lost in desire for a kiss

I have seen curves that when swung side to side
They make the waves of the ocean seem unamusing
I have seen curves whose vibrations make earthquakes shy back into their hollow dark ground
When she walks, the ocean waves imitate the swing of her hips,
Earthquakes take notes

I have seen eyes that make stars shy away into the blue night sky
For the eyes were more marvel than the milky way
I have seen eyes so beautiful and bright
They make the moon seem like a candle under sunlight
Dare I say the moon bow down and plead that the eyes be the light of dusk and night

I have seen kinky locks that make the wind feel honoured to blow through them
Locks so dark and beautiful,
They the make the black panther wish it was darker and silkier

I have seen legs, long and beautiful
They make angels and gods fall from grace with lust
I have seen legs, so cocoa and smooth
They make angels and gods wish they were human
Even for just a moment
I have seen beauty that makes kings squander their treasures and lose their Queens and Kingdoms
Dare I say make kings go to war
All for a moment of forbidden pleasures of the flesh

Such beauty is not worth it my son
For true beauty comes from the soul

Eyes grow weary and blind like flowers wither and die
Lips crack and gather dusty like tree bark
Curves collapse like walls of Jericho
Locks grow grey and fall off like leaves in autumn
Legs tire and walk no more
Beauty fades with the sands of time
With the winds of time they are blown to worlds beyond

But beauty of the soul grows sweeter and graceful with time
For it is beauty of the soul that breeds love
And Love makes Time pass
As sadly Time makes Love pass
For beauty of the eye is just that,
BEAUTY FOR THE EYE TO BEHOLD

WATER UNDER A BRIDGE

Water under a bridge
A thing the legacy of us will never become
For we flow ceaselessly
Like the river runs from the mountains
And bigger we shall get
The further we flow
Like a river grows into the ocean
So will our legacy be
A force of nature untamable
For we shall grow into a vast reservouir of all things life.

Quotes

A man who dies without a broken heart has not lived.

But foolish is a man who dares speak of what aches his heart.
👴🏾

TREE OF WISDOM

He cut down the tree
From where it was rooted for ages
All to feed his greed
It’s leaves he trampled
Like dirt on a grave
All for the gold and diamond beneath

But the gods would not be denied
A duty to pass on the wisdom
It’s root may be gone
Trunk burnt
To keep His cold heart warm
But it’s bark
Became paper
On which wisdom
Was inscribed
For it’s a tree of life
It’s wisdom will not be denied.