Comus Poems

For Lord’s exultant installation thou Singest for the performance at Ludlow, Of greatest Virtue that high Heav’n bestows On mansions virgin demoiselles doth house, That no temptation could utterly soil, No evil spirit ever durst to foil, Nor Circe’s son

At that time I was thinking something else when you gave me a half-kiss, my winter naked moon. A souvenir left by sun for the sake of night. I remembered pink roses unpetaling green thighs- for quest of shelter in

Never Do Enough You will never do enough for some people in this world cause there being blinded by sin, self & Satan just be the best that you could be you take out the garbage & fold the clothes

Black hidden deep within a forest A focal point leading outward Strides that repeat friction brings heat A heart filled with hope inspires the beat Atmosphere with hoofs intense Trampling over the reasons to avoid Existence stark to compare Through

I dipped my hand within my soul To stir the ebon ink And placed a smear upon the scroll Where loathsome mem’ries sink And write the script of heart’s lament With words from blank abyss In colors mixed with aged

The old wooden rocker was rustic and worn; no one could remember the year it was born. It rocked with one partner for decades of years but now it was silenced, and all were in tears. Its faithful old rider

The world is cast under darkness, That’s what the earthly theme goes; A living heart goes the same And so on a Rose. Truth has charred off, With fraudulent leading the way; “Make us free from Darkness”—— Couldn’t I hear

Far away in a world of my own, lost and can’t be found Gone in a moment with the wind,top speed, heading for a brick wall A war in my mind as I try to unwind with a bottle of

Living in a cyst, it would explore the breast. The black ethics goes beyond the bounds of mystique of non-movement. A while away a conflict comes out of the body. Melts into a face. There is no flesh, no skin.

we were one when together whole complete eye gazing until the wee hours of the morning no sleep just happy hearts beating together longing to be with him ache in my heart living 10 minutes away but worlds apart both

I live to kill the storm from the inside out, some may choose to walk Through it but I surrender myself to the fact that in order to make the Storm itself vanish, I must become it, in reality I

Love is like an aroma of flowers, Stimulating the senses, Waking the ravenous hunger, Of an insatiable thirst for, Unhurried passion. A love lies beneath, That’s a light from within, With glowing embers of passion, Hearts racing in unison, Emotions

Photograph by “Alan Mackenzie” He screamed helplessness and fear, Anger arising in a depth of raw emotion, His exasperating anxiety and despair, This cruel mental decay of Alzheimer’s. Acceptance hung in the desperate air, Petulance always only a breath away,

Which time is better? Which season is better? Which companion is better? Which age is better? Were some of my thoughts as…… I carried my drowsy cherub on my shoulders cautiously walking in my garden so that innocence is not

Nothing was beholden. Colony counts were perfect. You were never guaranteed and exit. I am stalked by lips of a black tulip holding a moonbeam. The world moves wearing a shell of emptiness in a cosmos, inviolable. Aggrandizement beyond the

And I won’t cry, When you will come…. Peacefully I would lie, Waiting for my turn…. Don’t hesitate dear,as there’s so much noise, Just concentrate…., and listen to my voice. Though I know,More precious to you I would be…, Than

Enraged we stand in this broken country still living an old brown paper bag blues. While newsprint vividly tells the story but you might not find it on the midnight news. And I weep again, I weep for all… my

prisoner of retribution, he was buried under a salt lake, elusive, his crotch, not far from stings of wasps, the blood spills, he would wonder how to catch the truth in black river, wrapped in imperforated causes, leaking with curses,

People who care Are always there They come and go To plant to grow Hope for the captive To break free and active Active indeed Is every seed Irrigated by A freedom cry The seed is a tree That will

On a cool evening, With sun shining, And wind breezing, Waves in the sea rising, I was alone walking Along the beach improvising the thoughts of simple living And high thinking. I saw a woman and child passing chatting with

So my absentism will prevail over presence; I will talk to you in space between the moments of autumn red when nothing else was moving. In classical pursuit, I straignten the equation and we understand the complexities of life, and

Sitting in my room at night, having a drink and a cigarette Wondering about my life so far, haven’t I grown up yet? If I still like to do, all the things that I did When I was younger and

You have to know how to properly dance the tango To win the heart of the most handsome lady that you know But just learn the tango to take a girl to bed And you will disqualify as a real

An evening primrose glides, on my rough hands. I pluck a laugh from the lips, of a parched face. It knows the meaning of death, kissing the pink eyes. Of the lost fidelity and the innocence of the dying sun.

hand the colour of sand tries to bury itself into the concrete as if it were sand the grey slab lumped is not going to lie though, tonight, he will lie on it under corrugated pre-creased sheets the bumps a

Dear someone, somewhere soon the presence of the breath you inhale would always be too far away to reach and the smell of your perfume or eau de perfume or eau de toilette or even the way she reads the

Oh God, you amuse us, you are ever so funny You take pains to make our day warm and sunny; Then you give us the night, soft and soothing as honey Prolific gifts you give us, without charging a penny.

Zimbabwean by birth, Zimbabwean by color, Zimbabwean by beliefs, Zimbabwean by culture, Bred a Zimbabwean, I love Zimbabwe! I love peace! I love unity! Ishe Chibvunza If Zimbabwe could recall that eventful day in 1980 at Lancaster House, I bet

The north wind blows cold and dreary, Shrouding trees like snow-white bridal gowns. Streams once murmuring and gurgling, Now mute in deep ice till spring’s meltdown. The night sky shimmers in the steely glints of distant stars. Below an owl

I am the burning star the beacon you have been looking for I will show you the way, every day and I will never complain just burn all day, every day give away my light so that you can see

I heard about a lost island once. The sea-god had taken it back. Yes, I’ve heard that story too. They are taking us to the east This time, by sea and by land, To the land of many a wonders!

Ever gazed my eyes, to look, as grabbing as a hook. The secret beneath, what lies are vast silence and cries… Happiness always remained there, as a mask but you never dared to ask. Ever seen my face to see,

Oh rose, in which sweetness evolve my dreams, Aspiring boldly, praying to find ways, To live ideals, which a heart esteems, Which might last longer than expected days; So let the thorns by your charms be out-shined, Your bony stems

Rainbow-colored butterflies fluttering around- And shades of spring, are the kimono girls Dark like blackbirds and ravens are their hair Fair is their skin, round like the full moon Their eyes like stars of Arabian nights glow Their dance gentle

I walk down the bridge Whispering to my restless mind About your last night’s talk And those unfeeling hands of innocence The night eglantine smiles In its usual way At my timid inexpressive desire And the love filled eyes of

Brazen glass moon like ice eyes Fever in the chill of her gothic mask Bitten by a creature of moonlight Bitten and stung by her fire and touch I am in the corridors of wet pain Covens laugh in the

My heart is happy Even when I can’t be there My heart is happy Even when you can’t see me My heart is happy Even when you can’t hear my name My heart is happy Sometimes I am lost in

Everyone waits for good days to arrive Nobody knows where are those days Hope is only the melody of life Behind the horizon of sky Expectation is enriched in every heart Sufferings are overcome with distance of happiness Nobody knows

She was the blessing, She was the smile. She was the much awaited, From my womb into my hands. She was so tiny, Yet so appealing. One said–so red, fresh & blooming, Yeah, she was my little rose! For the

A harlequin parrot as free as a butterfly Flapp’d her rainbow wings in the azure sky Boasting her grandeur and flamboyance To mates devoid of charm and elegance She settled on the fecund oak tree’s bough Whose bare branches in