A Perennial Stream

A blessed morning to you, family. I’m so sure that in this morning your soul is dancing in glee as you have been granted the chance to be part of 2022, regardless of the battles you faced along the way. As this year unfurls, I dare you all to guard your happiness. Here is my new year gift for you:

***

It only breeds if shared.
Like a talent,
if concealed
beneath the ground,
it won’t manifold.

If coming from a sincere heart,
It doesn’t cost anything;
It’s a perennial stream
flowing in the garden of love.

If planted on fertile land,
well it grows
and many fruits it bears;
it can feed a thousand souls.

***

Thank you for taking your precious time to read this. Stay happy and be blessed throughout 2022 and even beyond.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Poet: Born Bright

All rights reserved

Image copyright: http://www.istockphoto.com

A Blessing And Curse

Good morning family.

How are you this morning?

Well. I, myself, am fine and grateful for this life God has granted me at zero subscription.

Even though I have been silent for the past weeks, I still had you at heart and that’s why I have decided to share another poem with you today.

Here it is 😊:

***

A blessing from God, which if not planned for may be a curse;
A matter of achieving
the best out of the least
Only made bearable by execution
rather than idle theorising it is.

Happier it becomes when you forgive
When you bar the past from defining your present
When you bury everything in unfathomed depths
When you extend kindness and love to everyone;
Even to those you claim don’t warrant it.

Unpredictable it is;
But it offers the best shots
that can escape like wafts –
if not contained.

Lesson

It’s simply a blessing to be alive, but if misused, that blessing ends up being a lifetime curse.

***

Poet: Born Bright

You can follow me on social media through the following links:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

https://twitter.com/MadzivaBright?s=09

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The Abnegator

A blessed morning to you all. I hope you are doing your best in keeping yourself warm. Well, today I’m giving you another piece to help you refuel your tank as you work towards achieving your goals. Here it is:

As the sun cut the eastern horizon,
I saw him walking down a dusty path
Carrying a shovel and a pick on his shoulders
Then I thought, maybe, he’s a miner

Just as he approached the big tree
He stopped and froze for a while
He took off his hat and also his coat,
He began to dig, sinking down.
Then I thought he’s seeking some treasure

People of different ages passed by,
Gazing at him with a contemptuous look.
Some even stopped and jeered at him
And he thought he was the master of fools
So he packed up his tools…

The next day, just after dawn
I saw him walking down the road again
But he had no tools with him.
Upon reaching the pit he had dug,
He yawned and laid torpidly on the ground.

Hours later, the barking dogs woke him up
And he thought he was day dreaming
It was only after pinching himself,
That he realised the moment was real;
the hidden treasure had gone.

Lesson

Whatever you are doing, never get tired of holding on. Never offer attention to what the world says. You might be just an inch away from finding your fortune.

Links to follow me on social media:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

https://twitter.com/MadzivaBright?s=09

Image Credits: colourbox.com

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The Sower

Good morning dear family. Much care and warmth from me to you as usual. This week’s poem is a bit lengthy but worth reading. So please take your time to delve into it and make sense of every line. It goes as follows:

***

I met him by the foyer,
carrying a bag of seeds I had never seen.
He is a man of God, I thought
And so did my friends, as we gave him a place.

Seeds everywhere!
No land was left unsown
Seeds all over!
Everyone was hoping for good.

Was this the restoration of lost hope?
Or the commencement of a new life?
No one knew the truth except for him.

As the rains poured,
All seeds germinated in every place
Growing and leafing at a galloping pace.
That in no time we were feasting…

But, alas, a great war arose;
Melees and rows uprose.
Scrolling the pages in my mind,
Something popped;
The sower was no man of God.

***

Lesson

Be careful who you accommodate in life. Some people wear nice masks only to get your acceptance and trust, but their mission would be to steal your happiness and and stir confusion amongst you.

Poet: Born Bright

Image Credits: Free Bible Images

Links to follow me on social media:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

https://twitter.com/MadzivaBright?s=09

Sharing Is Caring

Two Bleating Kids

A blessed Sunday to you all. I hope you’re doing good and keeping safe wherever you are.

Today I have another piece to share with you, and as usual, it is an extract from that book of mine which is yet to be published.

Here is what my heart has picked for you:

***

Two bleating kids on the farmland
wander up and down in the forest,
mightily searching for their dear mother.

Climbing up and down the mountain,
they fondly miss those high moments
when they drained milk from her…

The day they escaped her womb,
it was her crying…
Now she has left;
they lament from dawn to dusk.

Two bleating kids on the farmland
wander up and down in the bushes,
but can’t find their dear mother.

Lesson

Crying is just a matter of time. We all tend to cry when fate changes tides.

***

Poet: Born Bright

Links to follow me on social media:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

https://twitter.com/MadzivaBright?s=09

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Trials

Good morning. I hope you had a fruitful week. I know we’re all going through some tough moments due to COVID-19, but please, let us just keep holding on and hoping for the best.

Today I just picked one of the pieces in my book which I think could help rebuild your hope amidst this trying time.

***

Life is a package of trials
Trials of faith
Trials of courage
Trials of strength
Trials of wisdom.

Look how far you have come;
You’ve walked miles!
Sometimes climbing steep mountains
Sometimes swimming through raging oceans
Just to overcome life’s trials.

Many times you are battered by the storm,
Overran by waves of destruction,
Befallen by misfortunes
But one thing you must know –
You are born to conquer.

Yes, trials may be painful,
But they make you grow.
Like seasons, they come and go
So prepare to always
face them with a bold heart.

Amid trials lie a silver lining;
They bring souls close together
They strengthen families
They teach to keep grinding
with courage and persistence.

Never should you let trials get you down
Neither should they make you frown;
They should make you learn
that life is not a smooth ride –
but a journey of twists and turns.

***

Lesson

Trials, as the name says, are never meant to destroy us, but to test our endurance and give us the best strength upon passing the test.

Poet: Bright Madziva (Born Bright)

You can also access the poem on my blog through the following link:

http://brightmadziva.art.blog

Links to follow me on social media:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

https://twitter.com/MadzivaBright?s=09

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Fallen Apart

Good morning family. I hope you’re having a blissful morning.

As the day is going, how many of you have already started working on today’s objectives? Are you aware of unpredictable hindrances that may slow you down?

Whatever answer you might have, below is a poem extracted from my book as usual which touches on that. Take your time and delve into it…

***

Groaning harrowingly in bed,
Sweating like a cow in a slaughterhouse,
A poignant tug strikes his heart.

Staring at him with soggy eyes;
Eyes that evoke a piteous plight,
His loving brother holds him tight.

Confoundedly standing near the bed,
His ever-affectionate sister,
Gently spreads some pain-relief cream on him.

Nothing he can do except groan.
His mind obsessed, his soul tied up,
All his plans have fallen apart.

***

Lesson

Many times, we set our daily objectives, but they tend to be swept off by the unpredictable tornadoes that life brings forth.

Poet: Bright Madziva (Born Bright)

You can follow me on social media through the following links:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

https://twitter.com/MadzivaBright?s=09

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Pressure

Because of the need to stay peaceful,
He does all things not out of sacrifice.
Because of fear – of which unknown
The actions of him are meant to gain validation.

Because of the pressure exerted on him,
He is no longer aware of his ‘inner self. ‘
Because he gave up on everything,
He wish he could travel through time.

Pressure – the fruit of oppression and injustice –
germinating from the seeds of fear planted in his heart,
has placed a laden baggage upon his shoulders.

Because of it, living his life has become a nigtmare;
He has been forced to withdraw from the race;
He has chosen to bottle up the pain
And pretend to be an obedient soul.

Lesson:

Many people in the society who are cheered up for being masters at showing veneration are not always born like that, but have been forced by the pressure that keeps building hills behind their backs.

✍🏾 Bright Madziva (Born Bright)

You can follow me on social media through the following links:

https://m.facebook.com/bright.madziva/

https://www.instagram.com/bright_madziva/

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.

PAN- 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