poetryrepairs #242 17,11:122/subtitle>

bjauthor : bktitle
MBIZO CHIRASHA : EXTRACT from Letter to the President
MBIZO CHIRASHA : Black Oranges

for your reading pleasure, verse
from new and established poets
poetry requires a mature audience,
if you are under 18 years of age, click here Big Fish

EXTRACT from Letter to the President 

32 Fat cats are drinking corruption drugs Politicians munching sanction pills Daughters hunting syphilis in avenues, Babies suckling on dry empty nipples, our story is a bad story 33 We shriek in the dimness of our hovels every night, anopheneles drinking our last hope. 34 We swallowed enough bitterness, Our heads are boiling with hate We are fat with empty promises and sweat talk Poverty! 35 Our mothers feed on wild berries and termites We last sang the rain song long ago, We are children of drought relief. 36 Cabinet tables are red with wine, roads washing with raw sewage Children eating diarrhoea and drinking cholera, Parliament is talking vendetta! 37 Mr President, I can’t sing you for supper, I can’t sing you for my breakfast I will munch the ballot and swallow the grenade. 38 The heartbeat of town stopped beating The sirens are loud, Motorcades are long. 39 I peeped through the broken windows of life, I saw ministers sipping our blood, Our hopes frozen in cold rooms for the next political supper. 40 We walk in wet streets, with our thirsty pricked chests heaving for water.

poetryrepairs #242 17,122:

Black Oranges

Xenophobia my son i hear a murmur in the streets a babble of adjoining markets your conscience itching with guiltiness like genital leprosy your wide eyes are cups where tears never fall when they fall the storm wash down bullet drains and garbage cities come nomzano with your whisper to drown, blood scent stinking the rainbow altar darfur ,petals of blood spreading , perfume of death choking slum nostrils slums laden with acrid smell of mud and debri smelling like fresh dung heaps fear scrawling like lizards on Darfur skin kibera , i see you scratching your mind like ragged linen smelling the breath of slums and diesel fumes the smoke puffing out through ghetto ruins is the fire dousing the emblem of the state belly of Zambezi ache with crocodile and fish villages piled like heaps of potatoes against the flank of eastern hills farmlands dripping golden dripping dew sunshine choking with vulgar mornings dawns yawning with vendetta filled redemption songs drums of freedom sounding fainter and fainter, blowing away in the wind when streets rub their sleep out of their eyes villagers scratch painful living from the infertile patches of sand on this earth whose lungs heave with copper and veins bleeding gold ghetto buttocks sit over poverty, kalinga-linga corruption eating breakfast with ministers, kabulonga with shrill cries of children breaking against city walls shire river tonight your voice rustled dry like the scratching of old silk Politicians grow everywhere like weeds land of ngwazi, yesterday crocodiles breakfasted on flesh owls and birds sang with designated protocol ngwazi your cough drowned laughters and prayers your breath silenced rivers and jungles Mozambique the belief and gift of my poetry sweat wine poured to absent, long forgotten gods and goddesses soft kiss spent on golden virgins before they aged into toothless grannies the rhythm of samora heartbeat of chimurenga drumbeat of chissano today mornings blight in corruption a social anorexia Abuja guns eat you more than disease I loved you before you absorbed poverty as sponge soaking out water before rats chewed your roof before you conceived men with borrowed names and totems ghost of abacha guzzling drums of blood and gallons of oil wiwa chasing shadows of babangida past delta of treasures Buganda cruelty is a natural weapon of a dictator poor lives buried under rubbles of autocracy pregnant mothers with eyes gouged out by bullets , pushing their guts back into their bellies luanda a roar of old trucks a whine of motor cycles a rumble of dead engines America frying its fingers in oil pans of your kitchen where Europe fry , America roast Angola , if you cough , America catch a fever angola quench my parched lungs with a spoon of oil i see the naked thighs of your desert hills Barotseland Setswana a servant positioned with trust American green bloomed your desert shrubs your loyalty is sold to she who offers the next meal Barotseland of seretse Somalia your lips burnt brown with exposure of rough diet you are muffled voice , cursed and drowned into deep silence the smell of aged incense and stale coffee a tune piped by the shepherd on mountainside, only to be half heard by and quickly forgotten by villagers Ghana the anthill of black seed coast blessed with gold once a young girl full of sap and strength once perfumed with richness and sacredness you shared your salt and sweat for freedom today you are like a woman who sleeps with a pillow between her legs anticipating a miracle of man coast of ivory i see faces tight as skin of drum in moonlight ivory coast, once the smoke and smell of human excitement tonight bullet burrow into your belly like rats into sacks of Thai rice you are the broken pot we patch to put on shelf again. flesh of children roasting in your belly , Darfur. enter text2 here

poetryrepairs #242 17,11.122

thank you for reading poetryrepairs
please link to http://www.poetryrepairs.com/v17/122.html

All the fine arts are species of poetry--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

poetry repairs your heart
even as it splits it open.
The Art of Reading

Our Dancing Poet Logo! FIND GIFT BUY GIFT

No state organ: POETRYREPAIRS
accepts NO money from federal,
state, or local governments.
READERS maintain poetryrepairs

I have many things to write unto you but
I will not write with pen and ink
--JOHN the theologian

free counters

REPAIR: resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition. -- Oxford English Dictionary

read more poetry

EXTRACT from Letter to the President . Mbizo Chirasha is an acclaimed wordsmith, performances poet, widely published poet and writer. He is the Founder and Creative Director of several creative initiatives and projects, including Young writers Caravan Project,This is Africa Poetry Night 2006 – 2008,Zimbabwe Amateur Poetry conference 2007 – 2010, African Drums Poetry Festival 2007, GirlChildCreativity Project 2011- Current, GirlchildTalent Festival 2012.

Black Oranges . The widely traveled poet and creative projects consultant MBIZO CHIRASHA is widely published in more than 60 journals, anthologies, websites, reviews, newspapers, blogs and poetry collections around the world. Some of the countries he traveled include Ghana, Sweden, Egypt, Tanzania, South Africa, Mozambique, Namibia, Zambia and Malawi. CHIRASHA has done a number of official NGO creative interventions and consultancy programmes with Social Family Health (Namibia 2009 – 2010) on a HIV/Aids Documentary Project, Catholic Relief Services Zimbabwe 2006 on a HIV/Aids Nutrition Project, Swedish Cooperative Centre 2006 on Arts against Drought (Zimbabwe).