THE FAIRY LANDA BROKEN WING

By Monica M. Rupazo & Gaylord Munemo

Monica

If it were the touch of his hands upon my shoulders,

The guest was longing and serenity.

If it were the whisper of his voice into my ears,

It was the excitement of love that collided with my hopes.

All that was gone when he went away.

When the winds took him and the cool air evaded

If he was carried by the waters, with it hopes went dry.

When I am left alone, I miss it all.

The place in my heart that could never be so lonesome was ridiculed.

.

I miss all that we heard, that I disguise myself,

And try to do every feeling again we ever had.

I kiss but feel nothing, touch but feel disgusted.

However could I fill that space in my heart?

For nothing like your love have I seen again.

I fail to erase the memories, by making a new history

But it never occurs to me, I always think of you.

.

Moreover

The thought of it all, that I hurt but still survive,

The thought that I fail to forget, that keeps me in the past.

The moment that I accept it all, that I loved and lost,

Gives me courage to believe in love again.

For with yours I did not struggle to love.

GAYLORD

There she stood alone on flooded cheeks,

Thinking on how she lost it,

That she thought she has been looking for,

She remembers how love became calculated hate,

She remembers how life became a death in motion,

She remembers how fortune became a strange omen,

The shivering hands of hers in anguish and pain,

She forgets her strength but remembers her weakness

Soldier up brave girl, he is not the only man remember that,

.You may seek and never find love

Take a stance, make a smile, love will find you anyway

You may look and never see the comfort,

Clean your face, wave your hips, comfort is yours anyway

Looking beyond, the world not beautiful anymore,

Make up, stand akimbo, you are so beautiful anyway

Thus you clothe your fear with garments of joy,

He sliced your heart, yet we will mend it anyway,

.

In your darkest hours, there we come with a summer sunrise,

Cheer up, remember the aspiration you possess,

The misfortunes of your untold past,

The omens of the lonely hour,

The hidden pain of love long lost,

Drop the tears and cry, I will catch them anyway,

Spoil your lips and rub the make-up, you are kissable anyway,

They broke your heart, yet you have the pieces anyway,

Let it be, look behind you I will be there

MONICA

Is it true that a time passed is already history?

Is it true that a love once found can be lost and forgotten plainly?

Is it true that a friend in need, can be a friend indeed?

In tight jeans we converse, laughing out of what we have left.

In thoughts of our accomplishments we dwell.

Proud to raise our trophies and ornaments.

Yet at every time one goes to bed,

They remember the most hurting organ, ‘The heart’.

.What is inside nobody can tell, yet in that commotion is this

manWho dares call me beautiful in my tears?

There comes a man with guts to call me brave and strong.However could I have fallen and lost it all

If I was brave enough not to hurt.If it is true what he says?

How can a hurting heart heal?How can a troubled soul settle in solace?

How can a lost love be found again?How can a broken promise, could have ever been called as

one?

.

What keeps me believing is not the sun that sets every night.

But the sun that rises every morning.

What makes me hold on is not the weakness I found in loving,

But the strength I found in loving at all.

What gives me the sense that you might be right?

Is not the common lie every man wins a woman’s heart,

But the heart in you that speaks to me.

GAYLORD

I have fallen in love with your diction,

Holding on to that prior blurred thought,

To worry not the broken wing of a struggling dove,

Rather the song it sings as food to my ear,

Yet here I stand holding its wing and rubbing the feathers,

Not a masculine routine to seek favor from the fair,

But heartfelt considerations of a falling man,

To carry an injured bird, to let it fly again and cage it not,

.

Your wings were hurt, yet you can fly again sweet dove,

Remember your strengths, you are not a duck,

You were hurt but not utterly doomed,

You were betrayed but not utterly gloomed,

Forsaken in the midst of terrifying milieu,

Have I found a dying bird but singing fine melody?

Have I found a testimony of a bold dove among eagles?

And yet I am a man in love with a rare melody

MONICA

Where were you when the war broke?

When bullets unveiled and the aids injured.

Where were you when the clouds gathered?

When the heavens threw stones and arms.

Where were you?

When I searched and thought I had found?

Where in the bewilderment of my understanding,

Where you?

.

Was I not in the room of factual meditation when you came alone?When I cling to hope and memories to survive my quest?

But here I am as I open my eyes,In the midst of knowledge and understanding.

Here I open my eyes at last and realize,It was all just a fairy tale in my mind.

I bit upon my chest and think, ‘Had I open my eyes earlier;

I did not have to rest in fairy lands.’

.

Moreover that I awake from misery

Shall I never close them again?

For in the paradise of discovery I dwell.

GAYLORD

Lo and behold, I saw the clouds yet anticipated not the rain,

I saw the man with gun, but anticipated not the war,

Folly, my mind was quick to see yet slow to judge,

History placed me odd to your evens,

Placed on the next page by the author,

Purposive, my heart believes it was the wisdom of my Maker,

Finding no place in the guns and bloodshed,

Perhaps a role in post-war reconstruction,

.

Lo, I was fashioned perhaps a here thereafter,

To wipe away the remains of the gloomy bloodshed,

And yet discover the surreal of the enigma,

Reflecting reality too good to be a fantasy,

And thus I searched myself lost in a moment of trance,

Yet behold, I found you and lost myself

MONICA

In my moment I strive to give and not get.

In my moment I strain my ear to listen.

In my moment I say, you come like a whisper in the wind.

Hard to blame and soft to familiarize.

In the moment of ordinary life tears cleanse the soul,

So long I denied with my soul it is well.

Trumpets escort in my serenity

In the presence of all denial it unveils.

.

Collective tastes in non-insanity we gather,

And speak of the greatness of our Father.

To forgive not only our brethren yonder,

But begin from our cores and feelings rather.

Time to wipe off tears,

And remunerate for our fears.

Let us get back to our dears,

And harvest in our hearts love with our peers.

GAYLORD

And so shall it be the anthem

of our once fading voices,

Beyond the hills they shall say

they heard our sigh of glory,

For we went to war

without guns nor shielding amours,

Yet our footsteps recorded

on the path walked by survivors,

.

For long we searched the right thing

in the wrong places,

Dreaming vengeance and retaliation to the bad dears,

Yet we find benediction in the palm of those peers,

There we stand amazed

as heroes who conquered our fears,

So shall be the tale to your younger ones

.COLLABORATION

IN

POETRY

BY

MONICA

MUNASHE

RUPAZO

&

GAYLORD

MUNEMO