THE GHOST OF BULAWAYO

what do they really mean…

when they say we must unite?

and what do they mean,

when they say one day we should fight?

for now all I see is a tattered white flag,

sad disfigured country flag

it blows sadly, like a withered scorched kite

once proud,

once might,

now shattered by the winds of change,

cheated of its pride and might

instead, I now see a sea littered,

with its myriad sands of doubt

silver lined with mirrored

clouds of clout

 

but yet they say we must speak with one mind…

and they taunt and haunt us in our daily dreams 

and yes,

we must never be blind

for the road is wide and is full of winds

but yet,

all I see is the self hanging noose

the pull him down syndrome

the old goose,

the one that can never lay that golden egg

the unfair piece of the cake

 

for have we not build quick sand palaces?

become homesick at home?

found fading hope in those same hollow places?

made foundations in places that only our minds can only visit?

made houses that only our shadows can fit in?

for we continue to wander up and about,

seeking things that seem high for our plights

 

so what do they mean when they say unite with each other?

and how?

how, when man sticks a needle in your good seeing eye?

how, when the sun blinds

and makes you eat your humble pie?

how, when ghosts and green goblins,

when these scream and taunt you at the whim of night?

how, when your life is a fly by night?

how, when you are not a tiger in the forest night?

 

is this what they mean?

that maybe,

just maybe,

the little bird can learn to fly early

break its egg, wet its wings with air,

then maybe it can roam free it under the hot sun,

and just maybe it may learn how to fly down

fly down

and swop with might

maybe it can learn to fly away

fly away from the ghosts of my town