I am starting to, get over the Facebook buzz. Yes I was all abt FB until recently when personal circumstances made it necessary for me to go offline and to be honest I quite enjoyed my absence. Surprisingly so for someone who was a passionate advocate for FB. While I do appreciate its benefits, at the same time its like a gossip feed. You know, who was on there, doing what, saying what and sometimes it's all just a li'l too much. It feels claustrophobic and invasive, in fact. It's not just the people you wish you hadn't befriended but also genuine good friends; I really don't want to know who they've just argued with or their ever-changing relationship status. And so to keep my friends as friends and not have an audience everytime I express an opinion (yes even though I love a gd argument, sometimes, jst sometimes silence is golden!) I think blogging is the way fwd. No one to keep tabs on the time you logged in or whose pics you liked or where you'll be Monday evening, just simply talk about the business of life and whatever interests me without rattling someone else's keyboard.
much love....one
Sunday, 7 June 2009
Thursday, 21 May 2009
these salty grown eyes
salty grown eyes by konwomyn
hollow floors speak of lonely footsteps,
ghosts shaped like the shadows of yesterday
linger in the hallway,
longing for a body to inhabit,
or a body to visit
but no bodies do.
so i’ve resorted to playing ditsy love-songs,
and long memory games
of ‘remember that december when’
that cause tears to slip into a tea cup
sweetening it to bitterness.
like a child these salty, grown eyes must re-learn
to read without your name
to spell my alone-name again,
and remove the hyphen from the bloodlines
of history's unchartered lives
these salty, grown eyes, wrinkled by love,
must learn to forget memories of moonwalks
and plant an icebox where the heart lies,
and grow a new pair of steel, salty grown eyes,
impervious to love.
hollow floors speak of lonely footsteps,
ghosts shaped like the shadows of yesterday
linger in the hallway,
longing for a body to inhabit,
or a body to visit
but no bodies do.
so i’ve resorted to playing ditsy love-songs,
and long memory games
of ‘remember that december when’
that cause tears to slip into a tea cup
sweetening it to bitterness.
like a child these salty, grown eyes must re-learn
to read without your name
to spell my alone-name again,
and remove the hyphen from the bloodlines
of history's unchartered lives
these salty, grown eyes, wrinkled by love,
must learn to forget memories of moonwalks
and plant an icebox where the heart lies,
and grow a new pair of steel, salty grown eyes,
impervious to love.
inhabiting the sun
inhabiting the sun by konwomyn
when earthern stars point to the sky
look to where the moon stands behind the sun
and there, there you will find me,
spitting tales of fire and making rain
to fall as sun drops of memory on those unborn
so they may remember from where tomorrow came.
when earthern stars point to the sky
look to where the moon stands behind the sun
and there, there you will find me,
spitting tales of fire and making rain
to fall as sun drops of memory on those unborn
so they may remember from where tomorrow came.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
29 Today
Today, the 18th of April is the 29th anniversary of Zimbabwe's independence and I'm proud of being Zimbabwean, despite the political and economic turmoil we have been through in the last nine years; home is where my heart is. Pamberi neNyika, pasi ne vavenghi - and no I'm not a nationalist but a patriot; loyal to the country not the changeable political beliefs of the men who lead this country.
Saturday, 14 February 2009
February's Business
February 11 was the beginning of a new government in Zimbabwe; opposition leader, Morgan Tsvangirai was sworn in as Prime Minister by the country's President Robert Mugabe. Reading Tsvangirai's speech I wondered whose voice was I hearing in all this? A dreamer who prefers to bury their head in the sand or a realist with a skewed image of reality? He promised civil servants would be paid in forex, human rights would be respected and no Zimbabwean would ever go hungry. Mr Prime Minister; promises are only as good as their deliverance - how and when will the public sector be paid in forex. From where will these funds be sourced when already the forex reserves are insufficient to do everyday business? If human rights are to be respected when will this come into effect - when the State is done with its ludicrous detention of Jestina Mukoko, Roy Bennett and many other brave, innocent citizens? Of course I've no wish to rain on Morgan's parade, I just wish to point out a few things he might's happily ignored in his speech - if it was Barack Obama he wished to emulate in his words then he might have been more realistic and told the Zimbabwean people the work to re-build Zimbabwe will be a long and hard job that requires the effort of everyone. There will be no instant solutions and more sacrifices will have to be made before stability can be won; more will hunger, more will be oppressed, more will go poor because change does not come overnight in a house run by three fathers, each governing with very different mandates. Whether these mandates can work together remains to be seen. Needless to say there will be casualties as these parties attempt to work out their differences, and there will be greater sacrifices demanded of all three stakeholders. Its a question of their willingness to sacrifice their political differences to work for the common, greater good of the people.
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