THE UNCANNY PICNIC

Part 4: The Breathing Grave

Spending all my time laying on the bed,
It feels like I’m living in an enclosed castle
Seeing blood come out every time I cough,
I can’t deny that I’m just a breathing grave

Fruits of all sorts displayed on my table,
Only my eyes can manage to feed on them
My taste buds no longer functional,
I’m left with only four senses

My memory now an unredeemable treasure,
I can’t remember how I got into this state
My brains totally drenched in confusion,
My intuition wallow in despair

Being called ‘a man’ is only a title now
For I cannot do what other men do
Neither can I do what women do
Because I’m just a breathing grave

If I could walk, it would be better
Maybe I could be a moving grave
Unfortunately, I can’t walk or talk,
So I’m just a breathing grave.

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

All Rights Reserved

THE UNCANNY PICNIC

Part 3: My Heroine

After groaning the whole day,
The situation turns bitter at night
Covering myself with warm sheets,
Nothing feels better but worse

Panting like a dog, I feel throttled
Every part of me in deep anguish
Sometimes I wish I could perish
Maybe the pain would relinquish

Everyone has given up on me
No longer useful, but only a poor
and burdensome valetudinarian
Waiting for nothing, except his day 

Only one thing gets me going
No matter what I’m going through
She keeps the flower blooming
Because she knows, I’m her hero

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

All Rights Reserved

Rising Poet Bright Madziva speaks hard truth against Political Decadence.

AFRICA WRITERS CARAVAN

Rising Poetry artist Bright Madziva speaks hard truth to earthly sin and evil. His verses are a bitter pill to swallow for those who use violence as a way of silencing   dissenting voices. The Poet defiantly spews vitriol at political decadence and moral nudity that has since gripped the land of his birth. He sings his bold poetic hymns to innocent daughters lost in dungeons of quandary whipped day and night by thrashes poverty. His brave and truth rimmed imagery raves the hearts of crime-less sons roasting in ovens of violence   and hunger.  He wields his sharp poetic scythe to weed out dare- devils and their evils from the land that was once upon peaceful and was once the Canaan of Africa, the wordsmith like   he is, bemoans the demise of freedom and the death of peace. Africa Writers features this mason of truth with pride that Africa still gives…

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THE UNCANNY PICNIC

Part 2: Keeping My Promise

The heart throbbing in my throat,
Grotesque hands tighten my neck
Two bold fingers block my nostrils,
As my eyes are about to squirt out

With the scarce air left in my lungs,
I hardly breathe through the mouth
Unable to utter even a single word
Nor produce any yell of rescue

Everything in her soaked eyes,
Her hands tied behind her back,
Yelling and screaming she keeps
“Get up and fight back
I don’t want to lose you now!”

This sweet voice hits my eardrum
Touches and heals every wounded part
Its charm restores my strength
With just a single shot,
I then manage to win the battle

Smiling blithely in my heart,
I crawl gallantly towards her
Upon realising those cuts on me,
Tears trickle down her cheeks

Beholding me in a piteous plight,
She score her lips on my forehead,
Flash a big smile, stroke my arms
And sing a verse:

“You promised you’d die for me
Suffer for me
Walk the wire for me
Do the impossible to save my life

“Now here you are
Hold my hand
And let’s sing
A love song together”

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

All Rights Reserved

THE UNCANNY PICNIC

Part 1: The Trap

A wild wind driving flocks of dark,
grey elephants across the sky,
Her fingers are perfectly fitted into mine
My charming eyes locked on hers,
Love is the only thing I can see

Dressed sprucely for the outing,
The colours she wears amply match with mine
The birds singing from the trees above,
A zephyr blows in a cheery motion

The sweet pecks, she deliver to me
Sweet enough to stretch my wings
Closing my eyes like a baby in slumber,
I feel as though I’m lightyears from earth

The picnic is unarguably novel
For the first time, we have chosen the woods
Yes, it’s an uncanny place
But to us, that is just a trifle

The grey clouds bursting out,
We sit inside the car and fog the windows up
Holding her hand and making some promises
A strange creature breaks in and pull her out

Running behind, following this devil
Thorns and logs rip my bare feet
As the screaming becomes unclear,
I take a second to scan the place.

Suddenly, a rod strikes me on the back
And I’m trapped in the subconscious mode
A voice I hear knocking my ears
“My hero, I’m so proud of you.
Man up and fight back to save our life”.

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

All Rights Reserved

Buzzing Bee

A million flowers in the garden

One blooms brighter than others do

Its soft petals unfurl in morning wake

Smiling blithely at the gleaming sun

The buzzing bee finds its raunchy scent

On the perigone it lands

Draws out the sweet nectar

To make the sweetest of honey

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

Rhythms of Life

Life is comparable to rhythm
It goes through phases and stages
consisting of sweet and bitter moments
One would conclude that life is good
If they are living it to the maximum
The next day you would hear them say
“Life is not fair at all”
Only because they’ve experienced misfortunes

Not all dreams do come true in life
Some are shattered as we grow up
Others vanish because of our choices
Some people would regret over their professions
All such thoughts come due to bad experiences
Others think marriage is a solution to life problems
Unfortunately, this has left many crying

When life becomes tough, just tell yourself
You are in a phase that will definitely pass
Going uphill means the next step is downhill
Life is a pattern, so it changes
The only thing that doesn’t change
Is the philosophy of change itself

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

The Secret of Life

Life is a blessing from God
If not planned for, it may be a curse
Life is a matter of achieving
the best out of the least
It is made bearable by execution
rather than idle theorizing

Life becomes happier when you forgive
Never let the past define your present
Bury everything in unfathomed depths
Show love and kindness to everyone
Even to those who don’t warrant it

Remember life is unpredictable
Enjoy every moment while it lasts
Use opportunities before they fade
Transform dreams into reality
Settle not for nothing less than success!

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

Good Enough

Everything I do
is as good as nothing
Whatever I say
is considered pointless

Every morning
I’m awakened by shouts
I wonder why they say
Joy comes in the morning

Sometimes I wish I could sleep
And never wake up again
I try to lift myself and carry on,
But the journey seems as if it’s too long

I’m just a tree by the roadside
I provide shade to everybody
But no one cares about me
No matter how good I am,
I will never be good enough

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

Letter from FUTURE

Hi dear friend!

With all lessons you’ve gleaned from the past,
Gather your courage and be ready to meet me.
Every morning I will bring you a gift;
A gift you will unfold in my absence.

Remember, you have no power to choose!
So you can’t have the best all the times.
Whatever I bring, accept with glee.
For this is the key to happiness.

There’s no best way to plan for me,
but failing to plan might cost you a lot!
Just sow your hope in me.
For now that’s all I have for you.

— Bright Madziva

© 2020

Letter to FUTURE

Hi dear FUTURE

May I have your attention?
Would you just let me hold your hands?
The hands that conceal every secret of life
I mean all the secrets about tomorrow.

Promise me you will answer my questions
How best can I plan for you?
Do you have any gifts for me?
If you have, what kind are they?

My mind is confused, but I’m eager to know
Almost every day, I think about you
I wish you were my friend, and I yours
Maybe you could tell me the secret of life.

— Bright Madziva

© 2020