Ndeipanda Aindongo

Find I. Buried in heaps of Gore
beneath once revered allegorical lore.
pull I. out of destitute wells, with pulleys of sinews
the length of which is the price for your serenity.
...

At dusk the Horizon turns fiery iridescent brown,
a wonder to behold but scarier than Deimos' frown.
It is rare to find fear intermingling with Beauty
but daily, the dawning of night presents it as our reality.
...

One could liken a neighbors heart to a landlocked island.
paradoxically,
Loving yet orchestrating evil the same instant.
...

Life is a Humanitarian Journey
not give, is to not live.
Tempestuous as it may be,
there lie ahead yet bigger storms to see.
...

I do not write so you can dub me the pied piper,
I do not intend to be more cryptic that a shift cipher,
Neither do i write in attendance of those hungering for buffoonery.
I WRITE, so cataracts can fall from every third eye till it sees clearly.
...

A pessimist mayest life describe
as a continuance of prisons;
its many troubles and woes ascribe,
Without much proof or reason,
...

Bright walls in dark rooms,
Bright… walls in dark, wait
Bright walls in dark rooms?
Bright walls in dark rooms are like,
...

A mum castrato,
A song-less virtuoso
he has neither the balls to do it
nor the grit to erect it.
...

I awoke with a burning desire to give life,
to birth into the world a treasure.
An incarnation of my will to keep growing,
To defy the norm of living for the here and now.
...

How to be, without being beside my being.
to bond without my individuality, losing.
Depending and not independence waiving
and perhaps through self-actualization,
...

you are the girl that lives inside my poems,
you roam freely on the veins of my heart,
your place of rest is hoisted up by my stanzas
you are singularly verse more pure than whole chapters.
...

how dare you be afraid of pain....?
when you are descended from people who climbed down from crosses and walked away from burning at the stake.
people who lost entire lower limbs and still stood tall.
entire upper limbs and still gave full hugs.
...

I really wish i had an optical backdoor
so my tears would flow up and not down to the floor.
so they wouldn't form on one side a depth-less valley
and on other..strangely
...

save me a seat at the opera of your heatbeat,
let it fill the canyons of my ears;
with troughs and crests of deep pulses.
attenuate the beat of my heart until with yours it will finally resonate.
...

I dream of a past I never lived,
Memories of another life,
Where people stole diamonds and got short sleeved.
And this story may not even be about me
...

I dream of a life I may never live,
Memories of another kind,
Where if i even saw bread crumbs I was relieved.
but this dream may not even be about me
...