AM (12 /09/1985 / Harare zimbabwe)

Brain Cuffed

Brain Cuffed

Strangled but not suffocating.
Sensitive like an alien although clasped in love of mother earth.
Where are my companions and beloved ones?
Their company was worth-a -while.
I am imprisoned but not in substantiality.
Why did I pick this feeble life?
A significance depleted my amusement.
Hurled away like a stone but landing in the wilderness.
My outcry, now an echo that listens to itself
In tears, the scorching sun heat them dry
Facing trouble, It is my own to solve.
Defunct is my affection that occupied my soul.
Extinct is my way I am now used to.
Thoughts are back but settled in the past,
Not the vision of present and future and to them I spit the phlegm.
Dwelling upon present and future you will not watch summer springs making streams
Who do you tell when everyone seems too busy?
All is in my head but I am helpless
My brains are cuffed

Imagine getting everything as resolution
I want logic to be there at exact point.
Sink or swim, nobody here to command my ways.
I am drunk with my own opinions,
I need new ideas.
Read between the lines.
My blunder will assuredly leave my head in bandages.
A mad man on his errands now describe me.
A prince, the same way I am a slave
Who to lead and strive for, who cares?

This is him behind shut doors.
A man of people once called.
Cherishing all to utopia to serve purpose,
Yet languishing in these memories with vanity to pursue.
Think of an idea no one recognizes
Alit is pouringinto the head but thereis nothing to show for it.
The brains are in chains.

Who can scratch when everything is under nuts and bolts?
Who can laugh with you when everyone looks serious
What should I do when I feel the nerve?
Look on and make eyes do the talking.
How? The can expressmy feeling.
I am feeling the taste of salt in stew with my forehead.
My mouth is zipped and glued.
Tongue-tied, I have to use legs to handle a bowl of porridge.
Hands are in chains hence useless.
Chores need to be done.

Think, meditate and ponder again.
Bring the solution to the head
Let them come to decay
Nothing but a feeling though nagging.
My brains are cuffed.

by Alison Mujati

Comments (2)

Thanks Clackson i appreciate it
What a prolific poet... Thumps up