k!8 ~ ‘I have eaten my poetry’ ~ Mbizo Chirasha
It has been a full three months since k!7 but worth the wait to have the privilege of publishing these new works by Zimbabwe’s Mbizo Chirasha. A performance poet and writer of international acclaim, Mbizo’s achievements include Guest Poet of the Namibia – Haiti Fundraising Project and Poet in Residence at the International Conference of African Culture and Development 2009. He has also founded or been centrally involved in many creative and young writers’ projects and his work has appeared in print many times in Africa and elsewhere. You can read more of his work at his African Poetry Chatroom blog.
LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER
this poem reshuffled cabinet
the rhythm resigned the president
its metaphors adjourned parliament
my daughter
awaken sleeping patriots eating peanut in slogan darkness
rise dozing voters in the warmth of political acid
awaken struggle heroes in graves tired of wrong epitaphs and fake eulogies
awaken fat cats puffing zanunised propaganda burgers in slumber
rise green horns drinking much talked herbal tea of change
grandfathers of patriotism to bring back
truth drowning in potholes of grief
god fathers of change to bring back my vote choked in drums of new renewed
corruption
bring red hot charcoal to roast political bedbugs sucking our blood in daylight
bring a word scientist to burn the justified injustice in poetic sulphuric acid
my daughter
this poem reshuffled cabinet
the rhythm resigned the president
the metaphors adjourned parliament.
LUNCH TIME
i have eaten my poetry
i stuffed my metaphors for lunch
imagination my cool drink
empty bag of my stomach blowing tornado,
frustrated
a gunshot passed through my chest
another frustration
STINKING BREATH OF MY PEN
greasy propaganda apples for peasants
bourgeoisie for sweating corruption omelet
villagers for cassava and diet coke
streets for hip hop and toy guns
school uniform for PhD studies and bible for my daughter
wreath for saint valentine
roses for saint Paul
revolutions changed and revolutions unchanged
canister for fat breakfast
bullet for big supper
i am fasting the supper and breakfast
sun born with Vaseline on its forehead
moonrise with cancer on its breasts
tender skin of stars split by ghetto politics
kindas blowing condoms with lung wind
elders blowing balloons with broken hearts
another revolution
another liberation
another slice of politics
another rumble of hunger
another for the priest.
sweat drops, raindrops, tear drops
raindrops, teardrops, sweat drops
the breath of my pen stinks
Poems and Photo ⒸMbizoChirasa2010
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