Intuition

Everything is exaggerated for Intuition. 

She feels everything –

in every membrane of her skin 

Even when her eyes are shut

She knows the face within

Intuition knows the sea from many miles away

Bundled in its changing tide

Breathing in with every sway 

When the sun is low, she’s low, 

When it’s up, she’s high

And in speaking she separates every truth

From every godforsaken lie 

She knows many souls, Intuition

Not by status or by name

She knows them by their colour 

And by the shadows of their shame 

The disturbed ones have dark marker 

Drawn round their face and arms

Seeping from the skin

Like black ink from fallen jars

Many walk upright in shades of grey,

In confines of pencil brush

With the world expecting greatness of them

And Intuition not expecting much. 

The red figures, they move awfully fast –

A future summons anxious feet  

And they forget to feel the world go past

Blinded by the world they want to meet

There are some; those who have hurt and healed,

And loved – and loved again

These are the bravest of all:

Healed women with their open hearts...

And open hearts of healed men

Like sunshine in technicolour hue

Sequins flapping at the seams 

They glow with hopes of turquoise dreams

Holding in their bosoms hugs of indigo moons...

Quiet, powerful, Intuition

With a knowing of all the unseen spaces

Thank you. You taught me all there is to know 

About warm people and warm places

Poem from, "From Dust" (book launching soon) Artwork by the talented Maggie Stephenson https://www.maggiestephenson.com/

Passenger

Truth first came gently on a cold school night 

And said, “all that’s living will die. To know yourself, first know I.”

For a bit I thought of death and cried

And then stopped quickly. Abruptly.  And said,

“Go away, I’m fine”

And shut my heart so truth couldn’t come back 

And put stories of myself in an old backpack

And walked out in the stars to that place trains would chug 

And pushed down pain

With a confident stare, 

A shrug 

And clambered on the carriage

And raced out fast into the night 

And celebrated in vain: I was a passenger to life

Years passed; the bag stayed close and grew,

Outside was passing in a whirr while we laughed and drank spirits 

Where we didn’t know our own

And bonds with money and people

began to feel like home

Life grew louder as we filled it right up

And only left space for the things 

that we called grown up

And we were nice mostly, because it seemed like the 

right thing to do

But when vulnerability came close

We would laugh, “Fuck you”

God came back in a moment of quiet and asked,

 “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I said. And no tears came.

And denial carried on.

I kept telling myself then, 

“You belong, you belong”

And people I thought were permanent left. 

And when my health was bad, I shouted – “theft”. 

My heart broke too, but I stayed somehow windswept 

And filled a void with new glitter 

Though I cried to one I loved, who lied,

And heard an echo with no reply

And in the quiet, god said

 “you won’t find forever on this ride”

And I said, 

“Go away, I’m fine”

Life moved. I kept my eyes off truth 

And the ground became noisier

The carriage became busier 

And my thoughts became louder, 

and someone died

Sitting right beside me. Mid sentence.

Right at the comma,

where you were supposed to take a breath

And people near me 

Who I called dear to me 

All seemed to subside 

Just a bag of bullshit stories at my side...

And god said, 

“Do you want to know me yet?”

I said, “I’m fine”

but I began to lose my mind. 

I held; tried to cling

To every fading worldly thing 

Like confetti – 

You can’t build a home on confetti. 

And finally, at the final straw 

I had everything I could have wanted in the world –

But loss kept coming,

and the train tracks kept drumming,

I cried, “Get me off this goddamn ride”

And god came back and stopped the train

I clambered out then in the pouring rain, 

And truth spoke,

“Leave the bag behind. 

All you are is not your mind 

Come with nothing and follow me

And we walked

And at that slow, slow pace.

I could suddenly see

The cosmos I had never touched

and the star grass I had never brushed 

I saw the moon again and it saw me

And I knew none of them would stay 

Neither would night when came the day

But I was here

And death seemed close and far 

And it was beautiful and intimate:

That we were nothing but an inch apart 

Truth held me in a big, big wave

As I opened then my hollow cave 

And let god pour right through my ribs

Between my lungs, right to my hips and

My feet felt the ground that seemed now strong 

And god said, “you know me”

I said, “I do”

“I am nothing but a piece of you”

Poem from, "From Dust" (book launching soon) Artwork by local Zimbabwean Artist, Phineas Chisango