Image source: Flickr.

Dreams:
This hole is a grave where dreams toss and turn,
Touch the wind and sway with it.
See the taller defecate on stunted grass,
Dare peel a wall and greet the paint within.
The girl wishes to delete her scalp so hair will bud.
The boy’s mind is a breathing ghost; a man touched it and saw light yonder.
Is it time?
To chase the sea and gulp its shore?
To eject emotions and turn them into guns?
The streets are bloated with nuanced melodies of a broken childhood.
Can a man shrink to reach the boy? Raise him up and let him dream?
Can the sun descend? Beak the girl and let her dance?

Remember yesterday:
The sea brimmed with tears.
But I, your devil, shroud my defects,
Twirl your emotions up in the sky,
Like hollow batons detached from the palms of a drunken chorister.

Remember yesterday:
A gaze in my eyes thawed your alpenstock
While love departed our coven.
Your tears at night convene
To plough the broken terrains of your soul.

Remember yesterday:
Boundaries grew between us,
Paths riveted,
And I grew cold.
Like a mannequin beneath a molten grave.
I grieve not.
I hurt not.
I remain still.

 

 

About the Author:

Elizabeth Semende is a student at the Midlands State University in Zimbabwe. She enjoys writing and reading both poetry and fiction. She discovered her writing abilities after writing a letter to her mother in 2013 and since then she has found it hard to resist the urge to write. Her poetry has been published in anthologies online and in print in Zimbabwe.

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3 Responses to “Dreams, Remember Yesterday | Elizabeth Semende | Poetry” Subscribe

  1. M 2017/08/18 at 06:51 #

    I don’t know what it is, this did something to me.

  2. James Rumbabvu Dongo 2017/08/27 at 12:24 #

    wooow Patie, this is amazing. keep it up!! I liked the piece.

  3. Nkosiyazi Kan Kanjiri 2017/08/28 at 03:12 #

    Our own Dambudzo marechera

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I hold a doctorate in English from Duke University and recently joined the Marquette University English faculty as an Assistant Professor. I love teaching African fiction and contemporary British novels. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

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