Blue Sunday-Poem by Victor Mavedzenge

There are words never forgotten

Suicide and aliens, slashed wrists and a boring name

Bar-b-cued tales of a love forever lost

I am a grave yet born to much celebration

Dusk and Dawn bear darkness in common silence

I wonder why violence is the key

Lost within myself

Knocking on my own door, my key dead of turning

Unleashing a pessimistic rage

Yet, with a sigh of hope, bid this day goodnight

Barren innocence, lays delicate marks on my conscience

As I watch the decay of yesterday seep into tomorrows fragile mind

Let floats betray the fisherman, and never bop to report the catch

I stand in silence-as stripped innocence stretches out a shaky humble hand

I stand in silence

Hopes and dreams, approach in ballistic rage

I wake to the same slow reality

The story gets monotonous, so, please, turn the page

He I stand in charismatic penmanship-dog biscuit in my mouth

Out, out on the far stretched beaches-there lies love

Only recollected in the corner of a mind

In a far away, landlocked island

When the sandman leaves, there will be dreams to tell.

The morning dew dissipates

I stand in silence

As innocence’ shaky humble hand stretches out

Victor Mavedzenge 2001

Blue Sunday speaks of hopes and dreams lost. Lost to the economic and political struggles. As much as one would like to help, sometimes it all adds up to hopes and dreams. Injustice before our eyes but we are too meek, too afraid, too weak to help our fellows. Such is the “Human condition” . View Victor Mavedzenge's artwork here