Poetry Life Africa

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25/03/2026

One mistake cannot make a woman lose a good man.
A single mistake is an alarm, not yet a warning.
It sounds simple, almost too simple,
yet the truth breathing beneath it is ancient and enduring.
When a mistake comes only once,
it does not darken the daylight
nor silence the warmth of what has been built.
But when mistakes return again and again,
they are no longer innocent;
they become disrespect,
they become negligence,
they become a language of ignorance.
And every man shaped by the hard laws of nature
begins to fracture—
slowly falling into unbearable pieces of himself,
until even his own humanity feels heavy to carry.
It is tragic that in such a state,
many men begin to die
long before death arrives.

MaQ Mudyanadzo

17/02/2026

You are a big fellow.... can you like and follow

17/02/2026

Nestling Storge
The Glory of a Woman — Something Fathers Can't Bear to Give

*MaQ Mudyanadzo*

Mama’s songs were much acoustic.
When she sang,
I felt the holiness of her chores-like a chanson.
She made herself a kitchen chansonnier.

I found my heart chanting back
A chorus of greed-
The desire for her kitchen glory
Breeding deep in my gut.

Her face gave every gesture of love
It could express.
I fell in love with her
Each time I sat at her cooking table.

She was interpreting the magic of kitchen herbs.
And I felt-
If I had to kiss her,
Surely the kiss should have a name.

Her dishes were fat in seasoning.
Like the warmth of a hug,
I felt my heart engulfed.
The passion she poured into cooking-
I ingested.

I had every reason to love Mama,
But even those reasons
Couldn’t match the love she gave to me.
Still, they linger in my mind.

If I were as old then as I am now,
I would have thrown on her
A guinea of merit,
Not just a shilling.

Mommy was a charm
That made every morning cush-
Wonderful like the city of Barcelona.

The *Nestling Storge*.

*The Perfect Jabber*

17/02/2026

In poetry, nobody chooses; the right to choose is not part of poetry, because poetry chose all of us first. It owns us. In every sense of every being, poetry rules... If you're a genius, let me know one aspect of life that you think is not poetic.

Valentine–MisledMaQ Mudyanadzo And they had rosesall in red.I stumbled,chewing what I couldn’t swallow:a word.I did not ...
17/02/2026

Valentine–Misled

MaQ Mudyanadzo

And they had roses
all in red.

I stumbled,
chewing what I couldn’t swallow:
a word.

I did not spit it.
No.
I wrote it down instead
on a borrowed piece of paper.

This time,
I will not show it to anyone.

Whose day is it,
the one that makes them buy roses
instead of Bibles.

Whose?

There is a Mass of Christ.
A celebration of liberation.
Saints have their days too.

But this one..

Who designed a day like that?
And why red?

They say pink is feminine,
blue belongs to men, masculinity.
Then what is red?
Crimson conscience?
Dumb devotion?

Valentine..
an excellent demon’s companion.
A parade of praise for those who adore it.

A narrow lane, disguised as purity.
A breast
that simmers poisoned milk.
We may not know the art of worshipping
Yet we do.

I'm just a poet.

The Adventures Of MaQ

The Adventures Of MaQ.... let a word be heard, for it to be a message.
17/02/2026

The Adventures Of MaQ.... let a word be heard, for it to be a message.

*"Sorry me"* *MaQ Mudyanadzo* There is never a blind heart,Yet those that cries least may be those that hurt most.All I ...
15/02/2025

*"Sorry me"*

*MaQ Mudyanadzo*

There is never a blind heart,
Yet those that cries least may be those that hurt most.
All I longed for was a map to a world of sorry but,
But the nightmare was longer and drafted in sorro,
Maybe for once a grieving heart may experience a healed world if a lamp of love lights up truthfully.

I had to look down to my toes and share a shameful greeting to the ground,
The ground in which love would let me graved into.
Then i felt a wish-wind blowing my mind and I begged the world to give a hug from a true lover.
Only one tinny kiss would mark an endless sign of peace to my mind.
That would be my favourite art,
But the world is selfish.

I blamed myself for worrying to much,
Yet the only reason why I kept worrying was me being the worst loved person to ever been witnesses by love.
Im walking the path so slow yet it is so much of an adventure for less.
Every story of it is ignored, not even the most patient heart can endure it.
I'm just too Lazarus for a bet that love can hit.
I had to get an "I'm sorry"
For the less.....

The Adventures of MaQ

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Read for free on amazon *The Perfect Jabbers and The Adventures of MaQ*

Home is when you ain't at your place and you have a good bed very comfortable and the environment is so calm. That's hom...
08/10/2023

Home is when you ain't at your place and you have a good bed very comfortable and the environment is so calm. That's home .....let me know the kind of accommodation you want...it's cheaper like it's free.... we offer you a broad choice of lodges

17/02/2022

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26/01/2022

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14/01/2022

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