Poetry

By

David Mungoshi

 

 

A Walk Down the Lane

 

 

Up Cliff Road I go

steep and taxing beyond compare

Cliff’s only claim to fame

is giving a name to this incline

At Cliff’s apex I’m at the peak of my endurance

The resident monkeys swing across the branches

This is their last stand; no more running from grasping humans

The Rottweiler at the corner is itching to clamp its jaws

around a hairy monkey thigh, but it won’t be

Mike the monkey is a survivor even with half his tail gone

I turn right and down the road I go; Simpson Road:

this is the green and leafy part of town; the sprinklers are running

and heavy duty generators are whirring

These mansions are meant for comfort and effect

and the people here have money to spare but never do

Nobody talks audibly here; it’s uncivilized to broadcast your conversations

I walk on past the heap of imported top soil –

someone here means to get someone to toil

to create a monumental fad to make posterity eat its heart out

The birds are whistling outdoor tunes, generic as always

There’s a grumpy old timer by the corner, but today I’m not in the mood

for his nausea and his nostalgia; everything is disgusting

and nothing measures up anymore

Retracing my steps I go back up Simpson Road

and turn left into Cliff Road where the sight of the jacaranda blooms

is like a breathtaking sight of purple showers of rain

I’ll walk this lane again and again till I am sated

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Father, See Me Build

 

 

With the furrowing of my intelligent brow

With my glistening muscle and brawn

And my rhythmic thrusts in shrouds of mist

Father, see me build a home for the young

 

With my smile and my agony alternating

And formidable forces galore frustrating

The creativity of my persistent yearnings

Father, see me build a place called home

 

With pangs of regret and sorrow banished

In moments of temporary accommodation

And with joy unlimited in the ascendancy

Father, see me build from a fusion of desires

 

Spurred on by the mellow essence of femininity

Wrapped like a surprise in garments of pleasantry

Blown gently to float like soap bubbles in the air

Father, thus see me grip an opportunity come

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

David Mungoshi

I’m from Zimbabwe and was born in Bulawayo (Zimbabwe’s second largest city). I speak and write ChiShona, IsiNdebele and English. I am an applied linguist with vast teaching experience throughout the education system, from primary school, to secondary education, teacher education and university. I recently retired from university teaching and I now live in the City of Gweru in Zimbabwe.

I am a published short story writer, a novelist, film script supervisor, editor, copywriter and poet. I also act in movies on occasion. I love life, I love people and I enjoy reading and travelling.