University of Zimbabwe Author's Club UZAC

Rookie - 81 Points (18 September 2015 / University of Zimbabwe)

Noises Of A Silent Cry - Poem by University of Zimbabwe Author's Club UZAC

Charles Mungoshi Jnr
That deafening noise in silence
The woes of existence
With her eyes shut from life
But open to the troubles alive
Crying out loud but to no avail
Her tears telling a story unheard to many
Feeling strangled by the way life is unfolding
Stranded and pinned down by the loudness of her problems
Blinded by a thick darkness
A layer of unforeseen activities
These noises bottled in the tissues of the brain
No need for tissues her tears are like rain
You can do it Jane
Yes you can
Tune into those noises and make them organized
It's like that rock and roll song you like
Jane there are all organized noises
Turn those tears to tears of joy
Let them be the constructive noises of your silent cry

By Handsome Madzonga
Mother!
It was more than unreal than real
It was more than unacceptable than acceptable
It was untrue than true
It was more than unbelievable than believable
Henceforth, it was unbearable

A large lump of sorrow gathered on my throat
Only leaving me gasping for life
And a black cloud covered my face
And at that moment,
Tears just started flowing down my cheeks.

I asked myself,
Where was she going in the middle of night?
What if she was stabbed to death?
At that moment my mind was thrown in a mixed bag

Surely for this month carrying the 'unacceptable'
Because of the 'unacceptable', life became sower
With the 'unacceptable', she became mentally disturbed.

My lord have pity to those mothers who have been divorced
Reason,
The disabled child she bore
Wherever they go
Wherever they are
Whatever they do
Remember and bless them.

By Progress Chiwawa
Your soul is paralyzed
Tears turned to dust
A vagrant slated for ruination
A loss of reputation
They see truculence in you
Yet their ears have turned deaf
They cannot hear the noises
Of your silent cry
Your bruised heart
Stains your repute
Their eyes have been blinded
They choose not to see
You start to speak
But no words come out
The noise of your silent cry
Stifled by deafness
They remain resilient
Blinded, deafened
To the noise of your silent cry

By Monica M Rupazo
Leaves rattle in their death beds.
Winds rush in contentiousness.
The sun quenches the roots aghast,
As they crack the earth in time that last.
Its’ nature is quiet to us we predict,
But when you listen closely you depict,
The silence is too loud.
The quiet has a sound.

Mute in their content villages,
They live and die like savages.
Condemned to be tiny they are unheard,
But being unheard is not to be condemned.
All sizes have a voice, they all speak.
Large or small, it’s to be heard that they seek.

In tender years that they ride in horrible abuse,
They will not cease to cry for defeat they refuse.
The bowls of their sound quench, their voice is empty.
Yet mute as predicted, noise shall escape their silent cry.

By Simbarashe Murondoti
They speak through their eyes
Each communicating their anguish-filled cries
He looks at the salt shaker
She hands it over, artistic slacker
He grimaces at her food
She feels good
Silence dominates emotions that militate,
Battle for attention and reaction,
He grabs the neck he used to kiss
She lunges forward, and says “I miss the bliss'
A firm grip and violent coughs
Frothing gaggling and guttering
Faint cries heard from a distance
Eyes exploding as Junior's eyes look on
Eyes filled with rivers of years of silence
Eyes gushing with regret and sorrow,
Eyes that finally found the courage
To cry out the noise of silent cries,

By Farai Masiyambiri
Another cut,
Another sip,
Another reminder.
Enjoy the pain of your days,
For your nights shall be poisonous.
Settle in with the noise of the masses,
Take a look into their mundane lives to quieten the pain.
Thank your gods for painkillers,
For the oxycodone that you no longer take as prescribed,
The pills that taste better with the alcohol,
For the cuts you make with the razor,
Along the fleshier parts of your upper arms.
To let the pain out.
Thank your gods for the long sleeved t-shirts,
The soul covering fabric you call clothes.
Thank them,
And your ancestors
For the moment of clarity where you wake up screaming.
Where your lungs show the life that your prescriptions cannot suppress,
Where the fear of death replaces the obstinate presence of life.
Where you scream as nature intended, from your stomach.
Where the noise jars everything else awake,
That moment of clarity.
Where the lethargy of success is defeated
By the primal need to survive.
You shriek as you awaken,
Expensive sheets thrown to the side,
Body drenched in sweat.
At least that is how it goes in your head.
No shriek has come, your silent cry is that.
Silent.
It has the oppressive quiet that only the deaf know
And only the dead comprehend in the last seconds of life,
That only the dead can create.
And the rich pursue.
The quiet that tells you all is vanity,
That death is the only true master and victor.
That you shall not escape, regardless of how much you have amassed,
How much you have given
That you too shall die, and all these cries that have been silent
That have invaded your every thought,
They too shall pass.
So open your mouth, let the pain out.
Scream.
Scream until you feel your lungs bleed,
Until you burst an eardrum until you stop not because of shame,
But because of exhaustion.
No more silent cries,
No more indifference.
Death shall come for you as he comes for all of us, but for now,
Scream.

By Victoria Tapera
I can hear the echoes of our silence.
It is deafening my ears right now.
I am fed up.
I can't promise you anything right now.
I can't really explain what has come between us.
I can feel it.
The coldness that has override the warmth that existed between us.
The gulf is too big for us to fill.
Here it.
Feel it.
The noises of our silent cries.
There is no need to deceive ourselves right now.

I can feel my chest burning, ready to explode.
Through the realms of my third eye I see the same in you.
In the shadow of a lie, we are living.
The silence speaks louder than words can tell.
Nothing exists between us right now.
I won't tell you in words.
Just hear the noises of our silent cry.

By Anita Mukiza
I thought all it took was a needle and some thread
Sew up my lips, keep the words inside
Buying the closure would have been accepted
Only the eyes looked and never saw
The cut was deeper
Nothing could stop the bleeding

The silence spoke volumes
Shook the room and cracked the windows
Face was rearranged
More like a preparing to audition for a horror movie
Legs dragged, left the path marked
Brought closer to the shadows,
Next stop was the grave
So low, the silence increased the volume of the noise

Never a way out
Truth always finds a way to come out
Good idea burying the decaying bean
Stupid to forget it would germinate the next day
Sun always rises after darkness

Speak now, avoid the harsh waves
Sea will never be calm
Birds will always fly, that's how they are
Let it all out
Silence cripples and betrays
The noises of a silent cry
More visible and felt
Louder than the trumpets of truth

By Rufaro Mhembere
If I say I know what to say, it would be a total lie
If I knew what to do I guess I would have given it a try
But all is vanity, because it’s a silent cry
The tears of affliction, a sad silly love story with no one to buy.

My heart is full of words but my mouth utters none
It’s my crime of emptiness, slapped with sadness find
I try to remember the moments spent together
But the mind is now weary of this torture

As I try to explain the meaning of my story
You would think its wasting time praising faded glory
But it’s my own treasure of unforgettable history
With the wish that it would repeat itself

All is hidden in my heart my love
And all u hear are the e echoes of my silence
And as they say, silence is the loudest sound
Those are the noise of my silent cry

By Handsome Madzonga
I am not tired of raising hands to you
Tired is what I am of talking positively about you
My ears are now deaf to your false promises
I thought life with you would be a bed of roses.

Look around my children are jobless
Starvation has left them helpless
And tattered clothes are now their fashion
Yet each one of them dreams of living in a mansion

You closed my mouth when I wanted to talk
You shackled my feet when I wanted to walk
When I needed your umbrella you left me to soak
Look now am food for vultures of earth
So why should I wait for you?


By Praise Khulani Moyo
I miss you, I crave in wallow.
Where are you my shadow?
I'm drained, I can’t even swallow
Your absence is a sharp arrow,
An arrow piercing to my marrow.

You promised to marry me,
You promised to make merry with me,
And you promised to make Mary with me
Oh my love return to me.

Am I a widow before marriage?
Am I a divorcee before union?
Am I a used glove worth dumping?

Did I give myself in limbo?
Did you take my pride to zero?
Does that make you a hero?

My fellow girls in Dotito make fun of me
Please return and take the shame from me.
They say you hit and ran
They say you are just like all men.
Is that true my silent love?

I pretend to be strong yet I care.
My heart is bare, my confidence is rare.
My wailing, my yearning is silent,
Come and remove this scare

Handsome Madzonga
When I was a child I thought the world was equal and square
Yet, it is full of laughter's, joy, ears and sorrow
And each morning I woke up,
My relatives embrace.

I once smoked and coughed
I once drank and was drunk
Neither smoking caused me lung cancer
Nor drinking caused me liver cirrhosis
But, having unprotected sex doomed me.

Am now an AIDS patient
Am no longer popular
I sometimes ask myself
Is this same world I lived before?
An idiot in a daze is what I become.

They keep me locked indoors
They scream and refuse me to use the utensils
My brethren, your love is what I need
Because, it gives me strength to live

Topic(s) of this poem: cry, noise, silence


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 28, 2015



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