Thse two poems are just a sample of the Collence.T.Chisita collection of poetry works

1..IN MOTION

Strange how days swell
Morphs our world,
Through age ‘n’ place,
Yesterday winter had us helplessly incarcerated,
In the deep freezer of tropical winter,
Till this blazing summer heat,
shook away the, wintry pressure,
Only to have us scorched,
In the radiating summer sun.
Yes we are, dwellers in transient seasons,
Where dark vapors gather,
thundering ‘n’ brooding with rumbling echoes,
punctuated by outbreaks of lightning ‘n’thunder
Intermittently shaking’n’slicing mother earth,
into little islands.
Earth waltzes ‘n’ squirmishes,
To the celestial beat of heaven,
Knitting’n’weaving our dreams to nature,
From hotland to everglade,
Raindrops trickle erasing foot-prints,
Till the soil douses heavily soggy,
Ready for the hoe to muddy its edges,
In a new planting season.
On the bedside of hope,
hack it !muddle through!
No option but to cope,
yes every hoe must stick a plant,
regreening Africa for the future.

2....Long legs on it again.

Thirsty to the throat,
elongated legs took to the ambush,
with a nose dive,
like a rocket shooting upwards,
she swerves acrobatically,
in an orgy of frolics,
despite blank volleys
to her failure is never a preference,
irritation effervescently shoots to the acme,
through spectacle, smell ‘n’heat,
her radar picks the helpless victim
drilling’ n’ sharpening her stylet
another fly down,
another bite,
sinking the nasty duo of maxillae,
deep! deep!! deep!! into the dermal tissue,
quick! quick!! injecting the anticoagulant,
the floodgates are secured,
have you ever felt?
how blood surges out of
the poisoned dermis,
bringing in a chilling fever.

3.Rise Up

With the crow of the cork,
My feet tingle for a flex,
Ready to ferry a weary frame,
Through pedestrial rides in
Summer-baked ‘n’ rain drenched earthly soils,
Till footprints speak loudly,
Of endless journeys,
through desperate hounds for direction.

4.Benign pain

Life goes,
Light smolders,
Blood surges,
Through rivulets ‘n’ spumes of blood,
via twisty avenues of intersecting veins,
Slicing up our corporeal being.
Still we feel, this benign agony,
Stealthily pricking its way,
From our fatigued soles,
through clogged artistic corridors,
of mental industry,
to broken hearts ‘n’spines.
Yes , the sting is me ,
We are the twinge,
The crude dung,
makes life into shape or shapelessness

5.Build ability

In the pantry of my mind,
Assorted tones of mental –
stock ,
Instituted their way.

Daily piling up one after the other,
Gunning corners ‘n’ contours
Till my oval cranium,
Swelled with mountains of gray matter,
As ideas sought an internal anchor,
All in the build up of a mental castle,
Stronger like the walls of Great Zimbabwe.

6.NIGHT OUT

Night out in a frenzied city,
Where florescent glows swallow darkness,
While sparkling glows pierce their arrow-heads,
slicing spaces of endless time.
Flash-lights! Towerlights!, Disco-lights!
Scintillate their sharp rays,
Beaming phantom glows across indulgent faces.
Till they scorch laden fizzy space,
Choking your breath ‘n’ filling up lungs.
Meanwhile drum sounds roar,
sending my bones into antical fidgets ‘n’ jiggles,
paralled by the coiled posture of a desert snake,
Yes I dance the night away,
I dance the time away,
The Nocturnal reveler trapped,
in a spiders web of joy.
Where joy greedily swallows night,
It is the city indeed,
A place were the sun never sets.

by Collence.T. Chisita