Naked Parables

Good evening blessed earth,

I stand naked though dressed in your radiance,

In your presence, I, lost in moments present,

I find your curves haunting,

My words are wanting they lack proper content to express this, to express you, goddess before my iris,

I used to commune in thought patterns, born psychic with an intellect beyond what genius thinks, addicted to meditative habits,

Sophia’ first born, I was blessed with esoteric and ancient knowledge,

I spoke with Solomon on Masonic precepts, he wrote his songs as I recited poems for my princess to a court full of queens from all traditions,

We burnt incense and sat with the transcended, they spoke of your pureness, you, the vessel of gods children,

I traced my thoughts back to my hearts intents, I found a void within with traces  of your scent trapped in that emptyness,

I searched my surroundings but Gaias environments left no record of your creation,

In truth, my souls presence felt connected to your essence,

Your spirit hidden past the ages, so ageless, a beautiful infinity with the creators graces, my sweet Isis,

A creator in all sense, Love personified in curves,

I have stood on this stage and memorised men’s many plays, my mental state socialised all doctrine,

 

Tired and broken I sat on Mount Zion and watched civilization as I dulled my human found emotions,

A craving for the unknown, I found pain in my wanting, searching, from caves to lunar stone paintings,

I watched Venus past Mars as the stars aligned, her falling light caught my Eye by surprise, at blind sight I found your hideout beneath the night skies,

I nearly cried out but my Joy was already too loud,

I learnt your paths fast like these arts patiently learnt while pacing most Lives in their last tracks,

Then, as the morning fog cleansed my Dusty eyes…

I saw you,

 

Felt like I’ve always known you, always loved you as I remained loyal and true, like royalty do – you saw my crown and smiled, that’s when I smiled too…

We found our eyes meeting,

Conversating on how long we’ve been waiting, how long should we wait still and why do you remain hidden?

Why is our union forbidden?

What is this we keep feeling? I mean, look at me lost Love: you’ll find my spirit as I in you find my meaning,

We left without leaving, floated past all that is thought living,

We embraced the cosmos teaching of our humble beginings,

Lost in ideals that defy reason, how did we find meaning in such a connection,?

Logic lacks in philosophy- We live faith constructs,

We Defy gravity as we undress sailing on a slow wind as it blows,

What beauty is this? Beyond the iris as you capture my every intimate thought patterns,..

God I want this,

As you appropriately respond to this, moan sounds that awake the sleeping heavens, these intimate trumpet sounds to awake the sleeping conscious,

‘Make an angel blush’ sentiments, and we haven’t even touched yet,

I stand lost in your iris trying to break eye contact, hypnotic, I see us beyond all that is, beyond all this and all that has been- I just want to hold this… moment,

A distant noise erupts the silence into chaos, I stand and meet you half of the hallway,

We walk in silence, you bite your lips to my shy advances,

Flirt with your breath patterns as your heartbeat sweetly beats a rhythm so tantric,

So abstract, the colours of your radiance so vibrant, it has to be magic,

I caught my first flight and we found us only in each other’s presence,

Alone amidst them, daughters and sons of a fallen creation, we engage in creative rituals,

I find my brushes touch on your canvas so colourful, so fine this art we create, priceless engagement in this lesson of hearts and this flesh’ functions, with these minds- Our Souls elevate into a spiritual resonance…

What beauty is this…?

Past mornings to these evenings,

Good night blessed earth.

Written by Samson Mandhla Moyo, a Student at the University of Livingstonia Malawi. Visit Samson’s blog for more

Eyes of Age

Youth waxed us with ideals

But age has shown us the real

 

Love is a maiden’s song

Of an eagle beyond the clouds

 

Beauty is a boy’s dream

Of a dove beyond mountains

 

Generosity burns to stumps

Fingers trying to stretch out

 

Charity is the arrogance driving

Those who keep others indebted

 

Unity is a shadowy pool where

Minorities are silently drowned

 

Truth is what lions posit

And that which guns guard

 

Lies are the bulwark of power

Crowned with a veneer of gold

 

Equanimity is the diamond tip

Tapering arrows of suffering

 

It draws out poetry from anger

Coiling out of incinerated hopes

Bruce Zondiwe Mbano (Mzuzu, 1984) is a lecturer in the Department of Language and Communication Skills at Chancellor College. He has authored short-stories, plays and poems, some of which have been published in The Fate of Vultures (BBC prize-winning poetry), Heinneman and The Haunting Winds (published by Dzuka). His poem The Viphya won second prize in the 2000 Peer Gynt Literally Award.