They Don’t Care About Us - Christopher Kudyahakudadirwe

They talk about us
On political podia
As if they care about us

This journey - Christopher Kudyahakudadirwe

This journey has been too long:
We’ve trudged through endless corridors of darkness
Trying to find ourselves in the maze of our lives.

Shadow - Zvisinei C. Sandi

Under the shadow of the jacaranda
She stood – waiting
Down the dark avenue a car was coming

Empty Confesions of Time - Nkosilathi Sibanda

Of lived fantasies at dark spots,
to the hard to remember night outs,
coupled with joys and fears.

The Beira Malaria - Thomas Craig

When you rise to greet old Phœbus with a booming in your head,

    And your temples throb and threaten straight to burst;

When your tongue feels like a doormat and your eyelids feel like lead,

    And your throat is dry and parched with burning thirst;

        When your eyeballs shun the light;

        And the sunshine seems a blight,

You may moan your luck, and wish you'd ne'er been weaned,

Poetry - Freedom T.V. Nyamubaya

One person said,

you are not a poet,

but forgot that,

poetry is an art and –

Art is meaningful rhythm.

At a Refugee Camp - Julius Chingono

After bouts of kachasu

we sleep drunk

to wake up in running battles

with hangovers

that seek refuge

in our heads.

The calves are everywhere - Gudugwe Mlilo

The Reverend Shepstone? Really!

The fence consumes the gourds!

Jacaranda Crown - Zvisinei C. Sandi

In the burning heat of September

Amid the rank smell of garbage

Anger, the acrid smoke of racing cars

The Jacaranda, a glorious royal crown, blooms

A lavender crown over the Sunshine City

For a Little Sister, not to Grow - Zvisinei C. Sandi

Don’t grow Midi,

Remain gold

Don’t let the passing of the years

Turn you into yet

Some more waste

Of Policies And Capacities - Ndaba Sibanda

This economy has whiskey

how can it be so drunk and risky?

Las Posadas at Que Pasa - Lucille Sambo

With our hands intertwined we walked in the frosty night,

our feet crunching the left of tortilla leaves from autumn

and I remember you opened the door to Que Pasa

and my heart began to thaw, waters flowed from my skin,

An African Girlchild - Christopher Kudyahakudadirwe

She wakes up early in the morning and works like a mother

Which she is not but only a child.

Portrait of a Water Trough - Togara Muzanenhamo

It was here the old man drank and wiped his mouth,

cupped the cool water and bathed his face with a deep

exhale – his smooth balding scalp shining beneath

the sun like polished soapstone. The day had been long,

the search forlorn, whistling and clicking his tongue,

a small sack of boiled sweet potatoes slung back over

A Healing Heart - Ndaba Sibanda

inner beauty is priceless

its twinkle is taintless

its hoot is humankind

its love is one of a kind

A poem for Zimbabwe - Chenjerai Hove

i am the only one

you are the only one.

My First Love - Chioniso Tsikisayi

Hie, Jesus

Sometimes I can’t get my thoughts to flow coherently when I pray.

So I figured that it would be better to

translate my feelings into writing.

This is my love letter to you❤

Grapes - Julius Chingono

Today I was fortunate

to stumble upon a vendor

sorting out grapes for sale.

Letter to my Unborn Child - Batsirai E. Chigama

Child

When I get the courage

When I am ready and brave

To bring you in a world

With too many clenched fists

Too many open palms

Too many potholes

And Z.E.S.Aless nights

Too many frolicking leaders

I want to make sure

You are strong and ready

Vashti - Bhekumuzi Tshuma

I came to you with my heart,
As a loving shepherd,
An innocent lamb did I come;