POEM: Life Of A Con

Life of a Con

Life IN Porverty IS NO Good FOR Nobody
It’s like a convict that’s getting old
Life in streets is no good for nobody.
Good when you are high and bad when you are down low
Treat her bad and she will treat you right
And treat her good she is pain

Life is never simple
But a labyrinth of choices and confusion
Choices
Choices are illusions that seem to flitter here and there
Is there free will and no strings attached?
Though it seems
We are all playing our roles in this play
And we play them too well

I was once innocent like you
A dreamer
A lover
A man of Peace
Until life happened
But I needed to live
I needed medicine for my daughter
I needed food for my stomach
I needed A Way Out
Was I wrong to do what I had to do?

Convict
Such an ugly word
Derogatory
Deprecating
As life unfolds you will learn to see meaning
Meaning in my words
Meaning in my choices
If I had any
Because my friend I would have chosen better
If there were better choices
That is my life as a convict
That is all we are
We go were our strings permit
We dangle and dance to the creators tune

Tatenda Mudzinganyama From Zimbabwe

Comments

POEM: COULD I BUT SHOW YOU

COULD I BUT SHOW YOU Could I but show you how a word can grow into a thorn that lodges deep within? The softest places of the hardest men, you wouldn't be so quick to let one go. In silences, defenceless and alone, security and self-esteem descend; ambitions cease and aspirations bend in the victims of a fatal verbal blow. If I could show you how a word can rise - bring laughter, bring excitement, bring rapport, bring nations out of poverty and war - perhaps your speech would seek a different guise. What problems of this world could be deterred if we revered the value of a word? By Corey Harvard

POEM: DOWN AND OUT

Down and Out Who cares to notice the penniless? Who cares how they became ripen? Griping you to their desperate chest, So jamed and bashed crossing to beg, Limps and crawls from spot to spot. . My chest flames to such doleful pleas, Clutching hooves strolling thier way, Smokes my heart to hear them cry out, ‘‘Oh how will I succeed, Oh how do I live?” “I crave you with every breath I got in me” Old and weary, young and lanky, Resting beneath bridges for warmth, Feasting on scrap wearing tatters, Without buddies, no family, nor us, No one seem to see or care little. Having nothing that matters to the rich, Pleased with what they receive with hope, From break to night, twenty four seven, Lay noisy tummys by slumpy gutters, If they disappeared who cares where to? Miserable basking on side walks, Faces pale like out of oxygen for days, Targets of hunger, cold and epidemic, A smile can warm a paupers lifetime, Let them in, they knock, share your little. By Bassem Aya...

POEM: Long Poem For Peace (PT 2)

Long Poem For Peace (PT2) D on't tell me I don't know I am awake I am here to haunt you dead child cold blue child dead destroyed baby girl shrapnel blue deep pits above her eyes a hole in her face and an arm gone ragged don't tell me any thing I am awake this isn't an idea the fires of hell are kept lit by you fools you know who you are but you did not count on me I will stop you now In this early morning hour I know I will tell no one I will sleep and gather into a force of truth afraid beyond words young and dead no lover's arms to return to only you standing at a marble headstone I wont leave you alone the chopper settled in the gooks nest high as a kite the air was bath water the smell was gasoline and swamp it was fun incoming was buzzing but the tie sticks and beer took the afternoon just hit the ground in the raging dust empty the clip run stumble and fly into the shade the world is pounding, one big heart beat still...

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