Tuesday 30 October 2012

Hush to illusions, the poem


Silence I say,
Silence the wail of a breeze,
Of a mother,
Of a daughter,
Of a sister.

Silence the half done metaphors
And colloquial jargon
Of the you are mine,
Of the, I am for you,
Of the, I represent you.

Silence the slave in mutated torture,
The slave to the ideology of freedom,
To the idea of the humanity
That people so possess.

Silence I say,
Silence the slave master,
The colonialist,
The dictator,
Silence the fake etiquette
Of a tainted history
And future.

Silence I say,
Silence the slave of colonialism,
Of war,
Of the misconception of freedom,
Of propaganda.

Silence my configurations of love
And my mental war
To break down the my fear
And silence to the idea of a painless society.

So l silence
My wayward thoughts
And l silence the poisons that drift in the air,
Poisons of manipulation
And control.

© Barbra-Breeze Anderson  


Sunday 7 August 2011

Memories of the child in me, the poem

In enchanted lonely walks l recall,
Sight :colours in kaleidoscope
Sound: indistinct but familiar.

Nostalgic childhood moments assault.
When I was a child
In thought
And in everything else
The child who now is a distant glimmer in me.
As my brown eyes  follow the journey
Of green lush vines on a brown musty wall
I smile as memories cling.
The sweet scent of a green lawn
And its lasting cold caress
On my neck,
On my arms
And on my belly.
Days spent staring at the blue
Of endless possibilities
In the silent
But not so silent garden.

The Silence and the blue sky,
Silence and blue sky,
My only companion,
My only friend.
Days spent in hushed monologues.
Paces in unending dreams,
Creations deep within
Of newborn hopes
And ideals.
Swelling in neo consciousness.
In momentary Hazy afterthoughts
Of dragonflies,
The  familiar wooden,
Creaky,
Rotting bridge
And the Clear flowing water
Under it.

In enchanted lonely walks l recall
Sight :colours in kaleidoscope
Sound: indistinct but familiar

Lovely enchanted walks.
The rustle and creak
Of tall dry brown grass
on an over tread path.
Deep within mazes of gullibility,
Unheard of fantasies
Filled with  insatiable dreams.
Days Deep within hallucinations of never land
And mysteries of forbidden kingdoms.
Princes and pirates,
Castles and magic,
Fairies and goblins.
In nothingness I grew,
In solitude I became me.

Inside the barricade of a musty wall,
In an enclosed mini Eden
Of green and  brown,
Immersed in the Smell of newly cut grass
And a porch overlooking into my Eden
Is where my love will grow
And my memories will linger
Of the sweet child
Who believed in nothing 
But in everything.
© Barbra-Breeze Anderson 

Monday 1 August 2011

Poetry And...Rock live at the Mannenberg jazz club in Harare

Artwork: Tami Zizhou 

The second event for my Poetry And Music event series was Poetry And Rock. After some funky vibes at the last event l decided to go for Rock.

I wanted something punchy and energetic and l was happy to have on board a punk rock band from Harare and with a good selection of poets, it was a blast.

Check out the article that talks about the show in detail:

Wednesday 30 March 2011

Poetry And Funk live in Harare



Im proud to say that the first event for my event series "Poetry And Music" had a successful launch. The theme of the evening was funk and poets alongside musicians performed live on stage.

I chose funk because l wanted to organise a fun but groovy evening. In preparation and with the help of the venue, l facilitated workshops between the chosen poets and the funk band.

It took a bit of effort but everyone was prepared well on the evening and everyone had fun. Im really looking forward to more events and fun ideas to come. 

Check out the link to the article below which explains how the event in detail:

Wednesday 23 March 2011

Monotony of Being the poem

Hush of country
That awaits for the messiah.

Country forever frozen,
Singing melodies of pain,
Melodies that swell in the air.
Country
of once half buried faces
in the earth,
Of murky
Bloodied rivers
And unbridled cries

Hush of country
That awaits for the messiah.

In silence lies the dread
For the night,
For the descending darkness
With it idle
unresolved, nightmarish dreams.
In the hush lies hope,
Hope that bears no face,
No resemblance.
In hope and silence
Waits a once young man,
Now old haggard and wrinkled.
Who waits under the baobab
For his beloved,
Beloved who ceases to exist.
In excruciating silence
Waits the young for the bus to pass,
For the dust to rise then settle,
For hope to appear then disappear.

Hush of country
That awaits for the messiah

Silent land of dry riverbeds,
Of weary hearts.
Country of mud huts
And cattle pens.
Of the woman in the field,
On the grinding stone,
Of the man in the savannah,
Of the hoe digging,
Rain falling,
Seed sprouting,
Green then brown,
Of seasons
With reasons
Of visions.
Of the grinding stone,
Trudge to the well,
Fire in the hearth,
Of love in the savanna,
Of reasons
For seasons
With visions.

Hush of country
That awaits for the messiah!
©Barbra-Breeze Anderson 

Sunday 6 March 2011

Launch of Poetry And Music event series

So much has been going on but I am excited, I have been writing more poetry, and working on knowing my favourites by heart. To add to this I am now officially an organiser for a poetry event that will be launched in April. The idea is to organise a monthly event for a year with poets, musicians and artists of other disciplines collaborating on stage.

Im excited and l have a lot of work ahead for me, it has been a struggle bringing everything together, since l have to consider the artists l will be working with, the theme of the event and how to market it.

Its a whole new adventure for me and I cant wait to see it completed. I also intend to develop the event series into a project under the banner "PoetryMusical" which will include workshops, mini festivals and more.
Watch this space!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!