Poetry

November 18, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

By

Kumbirai Kupfavira

 

 

Reparation-Impairment

 

 

When you envied me

You saw it that I become your own

You nourished me

With all that a new born would want

You flourished me and made my arrival

Not a revelry but a merriment

You admired me and all came for advice

On how you conceived such beauty

A beauty which is not descriptive

Which words and actions fail?

I was your own and you were my protector

You daubed me

You hosed me

You nourished me

My master, who was my friend

For a period and then became

One who neglected me

One who became ignorant

I am the one who shelters you

I am the one who protects you

What did one do to be treated as such

I am that housed you

I am disappointed with how

You have ignored me

How you have blamed

Someone else

For not taking care of me

Whilst you busied making extra on the side

 

 

 

 

 

Lost ones

 

 

Are they forgotten?

Are they even lost?

Was it my verdict?

Was I forced?

Did I want too, or it was…

That which I wanted society

To look at me with the view of an angel

That soul which never saw the light of life

Was I saving or was I killing

Did I help myself or I created a wound

That which today is ever hurting

That which is ever sore and with tears

The pain which I have caused

Not only myself

But the lost ones

Are they even lost before they were found?

That which I halted that life

Which could have brought change in me, you and us

The lost ones

In that which a nation

Has been cheated with that tomorrow

Imagine you being the lost one

A generation betrayed, a generation slayed

The lost ones

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rare Species

 

 

We rejoiced as He came to us as a blessing

Little did we know that twas a flower which will wither soon

The will of the Lord was done

But we magnify His name

For the time we shared

A rare diamond God put in our hands

Furnished with all essences and love

But God loved Him more

We proclaim this earthly wonder in God’s righteous kingdom

Let your will be done

Kudakwashe our Angel

A RARE SPECIES SILENCED

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lord Shading

 

 

When I came to be

I was innocent and pure

A saint glowing in His Blood

His love shaded my hate

His peace shaded my war

His innocence shaded my guilt

Lord Shading

He did it from when I was unknown

His love has exceeded that I have said to be

He embraces me past my wrongs

He calls my name even at my darkest hour

He smiles and anoints me even if I have wronged

He sees past my sins

He acknowledges me as His child

His pure shining star

Lord Shading is His ultimate Love for me

Lord Shading will never come to cease

It lives until the day I meet my Father

He has given, taken and comforted me

His shading is my shadow

He protects me always

Lord Shading

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flying Without Wings

 

 

The thought of you brings a smile on my face

I glow when I dream of you

I hurt when I miss you

I have never known you to be like this

But am flying without wings

 

My heart desires your affection dearly

You entice me, with your words

You are a Blessing, Flower of my domain

If words would say. I would have failed to express it

I long for that day the day I would cry nomore

 

I fly without wings because you make me…

…You breathe in me like a mother,

I smile, I cry, I love, I…

But am flying without wings

 

Every kiss, every touch…

The waters run dry

It is you

My knight and shining armour

I love but…..

Am flying without wings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pain of holding on, The Power of letting go

 

 

It’s what that has made me

To be that which mourns

Because the grieve

Not easily forgotten but

Is still fresh in me

My joy which was

Will always be in him

That nurtured me

To know the true

Meaning of being myself

In this, that seems to be ever changing

Full of pain and sorrow

The memories of the Love

I have and will also treasure

Will I ever be that?

That appreciates and loves

Never to compare

But embrace and live in that moment

Is there power in letting go?

The pain of holding on

Is what has made

To be me in this present

 

 

 

 

 

 

He Gave His Own

 

 

An only son given to us

To cleanse our sins

Only He could do such for a race

Not only of His but….

For others who were to come

His Love overshadowed everything

If He gave His only

Why should I be bitter?

He knows why, but I will not yet understand

I thank both for loving me

And being my sanctuary

God’s love is so pure

It never chooses

It embraces and loves

He gave His own

To save mine

Took His own

To save me

He Gave His Own

For me

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seasons

 

 

In which we cultivate, plant and harvest

In which we mourn, rejoice and triumph

In which we copulate and conceive

In which we enroll, study and graduate

In which we see envy and admire

Is this what make us, groom us

To be that in which, inspiration

Is derived from

In which when you see my beautiful figure

You so much engrossed with admiration

In which I have maintained, because it’s

In the season in which when I

Think deep and look back

It’s not only but deja vu

A season…

In which we cultivate, plant and harvest

In which we mourn, rejoice and triumph

In which we copulate and conceive

In which we enroll, study and graduate

In which we see, envy and admire

It blossoms and withers

But through love and faithfulness

Seasons come and go

But that mark they leave

Is what, we cherish

Compliment the seasons

In which …..

….seasons….

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Agony

 

 

 

This is what has

Taken me a stride

To be what I has set me

To be able to put

The thoughts

Which I think are mine

Which some relate to

Some which assume is a pain

Which can be buffed away

A pain which is what

Drives now

My everyday passion

A pain which is not pain

But what has become a part of my being

A life which has now an auxiliary to me

A phase which I recall

Wish it could be someone else

But to whom if I am to choose

My pain is not chosen

My pain fell on me

It was inevitable

My love is my pain

The pain which sees my attitude

Which has groomed

My belief

My pain befell on me

My pain will it ever go

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kumbirai Kupfavira 

Kumbirai F C Kupfavira is a field officer of one of the strongest and most remarkable artistic theatre and civil rights organizations. She completed her Honours degree in Film and Theatre Arts at Midlands State University and has since worked with the Midlands Arts and Cultural Festival. She is the current artistic/cultural, creative Artist Liaison for Protests Arts International in Zimbabwe. She also holds a certificate in Arts Management from the University of Zimbabwe and another in Food and Beverage Services from Phumelo Academy South Africa. She is passionate in sharing her thoughts and feelings through poetry in which she believes showcases the depth of what is prevailing around her and her inner self.

4 Comments

  1. Marcus November 26, at 07:59

    Good work Kumby keep writting I love your poems.

    Reply
  2. Eve November 24, at 05:14

    Touching poems thumbs up to you?????? keep it up

    Reply
    • Eve November 24, at 05:18

      Sorry It's supposed to be thumbs up not question mark

      Reply

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