Disco of the Dead performed by Crossroads Dance Indy to the song Heads Will Roll by Yeah Yeah Yeah
Labyrinths by Ndaba Sibanda Her lover walked out On her on their anniversary And left her lost in her mental cobwebs A shockwave swept away with her to a sea Of bewilderment when she was expecting Nothing short of entertainment
In The Witching Hour by Alys Caviness-Gober Sleepless, I meander, down hallways and through rooms familiar, my fingers run across beloved treasures left here bereft of you and waiting for your return; I’ve no need for lights. Pausing to peer out of windows into the shadowed nothingness of darkness accented in moonlight, the slim tree branches holding baby leaves are highlighted softly, swaying in a midnight dance. Gathering within me, shadows and light swirl and cascade in torrents, I sit before my scrying glass, peering into the shadowed nothingness of darkness, my gaze becomes anxious, desperation filters in; I seek accents highlighted softly. Exhale, let go. Stop seeking, let go, Breathe in, let go. Shadows and torrents, let go. Let go let go and look again. Exhale. My breath fogs my scrying glass, or perhaps for a second the glass fogs my second sight, then with swirling cascades of motion it clears, gently like the swaying of slim branches holding baby leaves; I see your face before me.
Black Cat Nights by Vivianne Belle Some nights, black cat shadows creep into my subconscious deep, mewling and clawing monsters merge in witchey cauldron stirs, invading my nightmare’d sleep; some nights, black cat shadows creep.
Not That Path Again by Ndaba Sibanda She gave the wind’s bait her back For experience was her conscience She who had heard hounds infested With rabies bark wildly all day long The wind had a way of being fulsome Its tongue was sweeter than honey But then it hid rabies and rubbish She had trodden that path before
Shadows by Alys Caviness-Gober In a flash, I turn, but a flash is too slow and it’s too late; there’s nothing left but shadows.
Demons Against Demos by Ndaba Sibanda rolling stones from high giving democracy no sigh police brutality against blacks in the US, police brutality in Zim crushing demos in Zim instead of crushing demons criminalizing peaceful protests caring for the corrupt and cruel rolling, rolling stones from hell hence health institutions are not well
The Bus With Bags Of Bugs by Ndaba Sibanda A cyber stalker lost the plot when he stumbled On the net and screamed the hell out of anger He was thrown under a bus of voracious viruses