Almost two years ago on this day Rufaro Chengeto Mayowe self-published her debut book of poetry Déjà vu.
Déjà vu is a French phrase which translates to already seen. Its used to describe that indescribable feeling you have, when you experience something that shouldn’t be, yet seems familiar like it has happened before, in the past maybe, perhaps in a dream or maybe even another life….
Déjà vu is poetry complilation in five chapters: Letters to my father, Telepathy between hearts, The other side of happy, Love yourself, Letters to myself. The poetry in Déjà vu covers losing a loved one, depression, love, friendship and self love.
Its an emotive compilation that tugs at the heartstrings and as the author expresses in the foreword:
‘I wish for the reader to have a sense of déjà vu when reading my poems, perhaps you have experienced the emotion, are currently within it or maybe you are waiting on the feeling. May my words relate to you and make sense to the emotions that may be running wild inside you.
Poetry always has this… je ne sais quoi… allow me a moment of self-congratulations on using that word in a sentence I guess it’s appropriate with the book having a French title ^_^
The book is written with a sort of whimsical simplicity that pulls you along, like a walk down a once-familiar path that’s now overgrown; each footstep like a turn of the page and you are never quite sure where it will leads you…
Crack, there goes my jar, no longer hiding my emotions and feelings
While each chapter carries a brief explanation on what the poems contained within it are about, the poems themselves carry no individual titles, just lines on pages flowing into each other, through loss and love.
You kissed me softly and in that kiss my heart whispered “Déjà vu”
While I found the concept of not having titles for the poetry collection (I am a firm believer of the sentiment that to name something is to limit it, which is convenient because I struggle to come up with titles for what I write) It can also get a bit… disorienting; is one poem connected to the other, is it all one epic poem spread across different pages?
And yeah for the particular ones that jumped out at me and stayed with me long after I had read them and then I couldn’t remember where to find them again…
My face, as I read some of the poems and they took me back to emotions that time heals but never completely;
I wish heaven had a phone; I’d call and tell you how far I’ve come. You’d be proud of me, I’m sure.
Déjà vu isn’t just a book of poetry that you read, its something you feel, and its familiar….
Chengeto also has a new trilogy out now Daughters Of Fate… a fictional multicultural thriller with romance and magic…. (adds to my ever growing TBR)