napowrimo
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Today you shined, today you defined the thrill of the unmaligned mind and love, returned in kind. Time itself unwinds and I am of one mind. Spirit and body aligned, love for humankind I feel as well as find. Am I of sane mind? Have I joined the kingdom of the blind where oppression is…
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of a bed that’s unsleepable until egyptian cotton sheets are removed balled together in a bamboo hamper to be fumigated by the washing process the time-worn couch is untenable as well until I remove the sheets covering what was twice his resting place and replace them with freshly washed ones. then I can curl myself…
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Back then, moans manifested through walls like copulating ghosts making morning after sightings problematic. I bound myself to my room until the sounds and subjects dissipated into the mist of a Monday morning. Now, when I hear sounds through the walls I remember my own moans and how they climaxed into this life where I…
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a generation of violets spreads into english gardens formerly manicured with the precision of the queen’s english. exigent circumstances leads to a silence which tries but fails to silence desperate desires for cassava and groundnut in love (secretly) with sister killjoy’s black-eyed squint they spread not their language to their seeds who travel far on…
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wild is the wind which torments screen shields. i am witness to the anomaly of april snow showers which, while not rain, will still bring may flowers.
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four am thunder and thoughts: fear. strong glass/soft water. electronic impasse. no memorializing mother nature’s fury while early morning media tows the line. five am thoughts of thunder and the battle that has come. scrimmages between mohawk boy and me about the mohawk dropping seeds: isn’t it interesting? everyday i direct you to comb your…
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I am way behind with Napowrimo but here I go, attempting to catch up! An Indian man and woman who I think are a couple until the distance between extends beyond what is proper for a woman must walk five steps behind her man scenario. Moving in the opposite direction is a well-hipped white…
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The poet can make a barren woman pregnant; can give her, known for her pretty smile, a pair of pirate eyes; yet cannot write in a land blighted by drought unless he puts his instrument down picks up the vase, places it square on his head, leaves his house and walks with the millions seeking…
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He is not the one and yet I love him inordinately. His virginity was mine and so is his oldest child. He is America and I vacillate between love and a frustration that wants to lodge in hate but can’t because I grew up in him. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs…
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She cried me a river which I populated with salmon. She then fished up my nose for coke fiend dreams to tell her unstoried friends but I was unpowdered like puff the magic dragon. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Tichaona Chinyelu 