Monday, June 28, 2010

Father by Bhekumuzi Xolani Tshuma


My heart bleeds for you

My twenty- third year and all I have brought

Is pain, misery and suffering

I have seen you labour

40 years you have labored to have me become


It has taken twenty three years to become


Someone said;

The fruit of a father’s labour is his child


Is that true of me


My heart bleeds

Twenty three years have I lived


No improvement have I brought to you

The family name goes down by day

Everyday the name you toiled

To build disintegrates


My heart weeps endless tears

Floods of my tears have washed away

All my dreams and eroded my vision


My heart weeps

For I feel you have labored in vain

Twenty three years and I still hang onto you

As a tick to a dog

Everyday my mouth open-wide for you

To feed to it a fat worm


My heart bleeds for all the

Frustration that has built in your

Heart and mine

For my failure to live to expectation


My heart weeps endless tears

For I have nothing to offer you

Save my endless frustration:

My unaccomplished goals

Your sweat and my tears have produced

Oceans of untold disappointments


My heart weeps as silently I watch

Your wasted sweat

Everyday I watch

Drop after drop of your

Dashed dreams down the drain

Of destiny


Is it my destiny to fail?


My twenty third year and your 40th year at work

I wait anxiously for your retirement package


How long will I rely on you?

Is it my destiny to continue living with you?

At twenty three not to be able to buy my own house


My heart bleeds, for all I own in this house

Is this pen you have given to me


My heart bleeds

My Son by Bhekumuzi Xolani Tshuma

My son

My heart bleeds that in your twenty third year

You have nothing to offer me

I am grieved that you have – nothing

To call your own

Even though my tear glands have dried up

My heart still weeps that destiny

Has not been kind to you


My heart weeps silent tears

That you have no place to call your own

That you have out-grown this house

I am grieved that my sweat has dried up

On you

Leaving fragile cracks of hope

My son

My heart bleeds

That I could not have offered you better

My son

My soul bleeds that you have grown

At the wrong time

Caught in an evil net as fish of the sea

My heart weeps for your generation

And the one to follow after you

For the family you shall struggle to raise

My son

My heart bleeds that:

I have nothing to offer you

But my dried up sweat and lost vision

A spirit of anger whose blazing passion has

Kindled from a little fire inside

Into a full-blown veld fire engulfs me

Born out of my frustration and yours,

My son

My heart weeps uncontrollably that

All the work of your hands and mine

Has been too little an effort to count

My heart bleeds that

Your clouds

Have no silver-lining but-grey

My son

I bleed that

I have planted a seed and reaped

Only a grain

That you have no seed to plant

What shall you reap?

What then shall be your harvest?

My son my weeping has caused dry bones

And my bleeding has caused

A wound that will not heal

My dearest son

My heart bleeds for you!

Hedgecutter/Beggar by Mthabisi Phili

i saw him today
on my errand to the clouds
a blurring graying old figure
smeared on the hazy screen of the horizon

i saw him today
he has not changed  
with his old raveled grey sack
hanging from stooped shoulders
his tattered black jacket
his long brown-grey trousers
reaching down to his sketchy black shy and humble shoes,
i saw him today ,
i dogged him today because I had nothing to give
only my heart to give, my wishes, my prayers-
I saw him today I dogged him today but followed him with my eyes,
and his image fragmented and splintered and re-grouped
to a man,
a human being with feelings, just a man who was hungry.

The Last Time by Phillip Shekeleton Mandipira

The last time l checked,
       There was need for change
Nations were fighting against nations
       Love was replaced by hate
       Life was made up of fate

              The last time l checked,
         The world was beyond repair
Twenty two men were chasing a baloon in the air
         Gun play was the order of the day

                 The last time l checked,
   Churches were built for business purposes
               Prophets were predicting problems
   False prophets were making money for their benefits
                  Babies  were having babies
           Children were disobeying parents
           Politicians were nothing but liars

               The last time l checked,
          The ozone layer was destroyed
      More people were still unemployed
          The minimum wage was still low
          HIV/AIDS was still killing people
            The world was still full of evil
             Suicide overtook genocide

           The last time l checked,
       l was the voice of the voiceless
     Even though l was getting paid less
         There was hope for heaven
           But fear of Amargedon

       The last time l checked
         More people lived in jail
    Heaven was replaced by hell
        The devil ruled the world
         Money ruled the world
     The richer were getting richer
And the  poorer were getting children

           The last time l checked,
        Africa was still home of poverty
    Africa was still the home of baby making
     More men were being raped by women
        Blacks were fighting against whites

           The last time l checked,
    There was still war in  the middle east
         A girl was raped by a priest
     People were still waiting for Jesus
       Lesbians were popular than gays
     The world was searching for peace

            The last time l checked,
            Terrorism ruled the world
         Drug dealing ruled the world
      Earthquakes doomed the world
      The Gods were said to be crazy
     Africans blamed  their colonisers
       The last time l checked,
        l  can still check again
   The world needs a great change

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Try Next Door by Sympathy Sibanda


A shriveled heart
Void of pumping values
Love no longer manufactured
Try next door
A contorted soul

Many lies it embraced
and many slaps it endured
Love no longer a totem
Try next door
A swollen face
Brutality its main meal
And tears for dessert
Trust  sapped
As preached by the bloody cornea
Love no longer has weight
Try next  door

About Wars by Tinashe Muchuri

If you want to know about wars
Ask trees
Whose leaves
Of genocide victims.

Orders From Above by Patrick Hwande

Demolish their house
They’re nemesis
Clad in awkward faces
“Orders from above”

Indict all pagans
Absolve our handy hands
You’re my blue-eyed boy
“Orders from above”

Get off the farm
Or else more harm
We need beans dressed in greens
“Orders from above”

Pass through the draconian
Media mill
Before you can access any
News till
“Orders from above”

Drag the Kariba shark
To the statute books
The river must be easily crossed
“Orders from above”

Quasi-fiscal games to thrive
Despite economic quagmire
Our worshippers must be enriched
“Orders from above”

Wine and dine at Victoria Falls retreat
And ignore Key Result Areas
Guaranteed is your absolute impunity
“Orders from above”

Clandestine remedial courses
For all prodigal lambs
To be religiously done
A stick-and-carrot policy is upper cut
“Orders from above”

Letter To My Daughter by Mbizo Chirasha

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 and mdcided 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

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.

The Writing On The Tombsone by Lloyd Machacha


On many a grave
You inscribed a painful writing on the tombstone
Today we gather on your grave
To inscribe a delighting writing on the tombstone 
“Here lies political violence and polarisation
Born ever since the attainment of Zimbabwe’s Independence
He died on the day the Inclusive Government was born
He is survived by graves, disabilities, and emotional wounds” 
Rest here forever political unrest
Rest here for society to find rest
Rest not in peace
Rest in pieces for the sake of peace 
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, soil to soil
So we were tired of saying to your victims
Today we unite to return you with dust and soil
Back to the dark world where you emerged to claim victims 
The dead are gone
With nothing to do with the living
Forever from our society we unite to make sure you are gone
Never come back again to subtract from the living 
Through abductions, torture, and murder
You forced many into eternal departure
Police brutality and army crackdowns were your agents
May you be buried with them all today 
The Writing on the Tombstone
It was marked faint by the Global Political Agreement
In the new People’s Constitution
Let’s make it bold and deeply engraved

Capturing The Gloom by Jabulani Mzinyathi

cacti thoughts in the mind
with my parched throat
walking in this barren land
nothing greets the eye here
thorny bushes and aloe plants
the desolation growing here

MaGamzee by Mthabisi Phili

what he said

sitting on the sofa

warming himself on the heater

wearing a red kepi in the house?

what he said

simply and plainly in words

and tearful looks of fate,

he said…he hesitated

he said…jerked and fell back on the sofa

he said…stopped and coiled seemed strained

he said…sighed and turned seemed restless and undecided,

he said…stopped gathered his breath ,

“but you it is all a trick

I don’t know,its what you think

l these pictures-gross images of life…do you think?

no…but…its what you make it.”

he said, his eyes wide and growing into a dream,

“It fades…it fades…you cant touch it

sometimes you don’t know anymore what’s wrong or right

…with life…its vain…we are all sinners!”

The Colour of Life by Philip Shekeleton Mandipira

Did God create life without colour?
Or did man invent a colour without life?
Which is which?
A colour with life
Or a life with life?

Why can't you see the colour of my life?
Why can't l see the colour of your life?
Are we all colour blind?
What's the colour of life?
More questions are asked but no answers are passed.

Colour green cannot make me win
Black can only darken my life
Red results in anger and danger
So what is the colour of life

l paint it blue,it looks like a sea
Brown can only break it down
White can only reflect light
So what is the colour of life ?

Purple can only create evil
Orange is only meant for the oldd age
Grey creates a stained page
So what is the colour of life ?

Yellow make it shallow
Silver makes life evil giver
Merune makes it look like a dead cartoon
So what is the colour of life?

My passion for painting is fading away
My colour of life is fading away
For all my mistakes l pay
But stubborn stains keep getting in the way

lf God is the creator of life
Then lam the painter of my own life
l can tell the difference between wrong or right
Colour creates glamour
Without it my life is full of anger

Needless to say that lam the voice of the voiceless
A life is with colour is filled with hapiness
A life without colour is fruitless
The end can only mean that life is colourless.

Dry Coffers - Double Standards by Patrick Hwande

Luxury cars for an over-sized choir

Source of funds

Dry coffers

Endless meaningless trips

Around the globe

Source of funds

Dry coffers

Massive State patronage

To beef up waning support

Source of funds

Dry coffers

State armed to teeth

To quell angry hungry mobs

In the streets

Source of funds

Dry coffers

A hell-hole of home

Loathed even by baboons

Source of crises

Dry conscience!!

To A Lover by Mthabisi Phili

if you think of me thank you

if I could get you again I would

with a red and wide smile

for this world is nothing but darling

if you think of me thank you,

am still with love why not

am still in love why not-

besides I cant brush away the blushes that

grew on both our chins under the umbrella of a mushroom!

Do you remember the rose buds we were saying prayers under the say no-more tree?

shi shi shi

if you think of me thank you.

Same Blood by Sympathy Sibanda

A sister up the street

A brother down the lane

No suspicions of the occurrences

that join their blood

The present attraction

A replica of past attraction

Iconic of what joins their blood

A secret firmly kept

In the hearts of the guilty duo

Never dreamt of its exposure

Till their sin has revolted

Trailing its blood

To join with the others

Wedding bells ring

All ululate and adulate

But the troubled look won’t escape

the duo “in laws”

Who in the other life

manufactured the bride

The Minister joins the blood

Joined two decades ago

Bitten by Abigail George

Sacrifice spills over

Grows a root gravely

Settles like scent or dust

Let’s put a stamp

And a seal on

That mouth of yours

Once bitten

Twice shy

Go away fool

You foul rogue;

Oval eyes wet

And black,

Obsidian moons

That rise out of nowhere

Glistening like fat

Like flowers

Blooming at night

Bait me like a hook saboteur

I man the shore

Like a well-oiled,

Golden lifesaver

Your twist and shake is like a fish

Your fingers grip wildly at air

Transmit your attitude elsewhere

You are done for hovering coward

Swipe at me again and I will smash

You to smithereens

Little man, skinny as a tick;

Fingers like frilled fissures

You’re tarnished and thick.

The Pains of This World by Bubelo Mlilo

I lie down in this valley of tears,

Moaning over something I cannot change,

Just the thought of it makes me shiver.

It drums my head with so many emotions,

Anger, despair and hatred.

Every day, every night I lie down weak in my knees,

Trying to digest the knowledge I have received,

But I don’t understand, I am confused and lost in the mist of my angered thoughts.

But why do I care, why am I bothered by something I have no authority over.

When I visualize it my heart skips a beat,

But not out of love but out of rage.

I feel great pain for I am the only one undergoing such furry.

But who am I to judge you when you are having a good time?

Who am I to deprive you of your last chance at happiness?

Restore Order by Tinashe Muchuri




To the ground.

Old Maina watches

Malnourished grand-daughter strapped

On her back

Stomach empty.

Restore order!

Restore order!




Police officers chant.

As houses surrender life

To bulldozers’ force.

Old Maina shook her head.

“Yesterday I thought through my fist

Tomorrow I will think through my slap.”

I am to them by Energy Mavaza

I am he to them,
Guava paper with pencils marks,
Statued at their mayhem
With frozen nerves left to few guts
And fake intrepid with breath of confidence,
I am all they see, am their evidence.

I am he to them,
A lanky boy stuck in dark skin,
Dreaming to be amongst their whole of fame
And to be heard who's so keen.
He who pretends to think but evidence his paper bear.
Like glued upon chairs they all can't escape to hear.

I am he to them,
A public lunatic me they perceive,
But am a foe and friend all the some.
For wisdom and rage i make them receive
But i frankly read their thoughts on ink
And to mic i spit, am crazy they all think...

This poem is about the tears of joy i will shed on the second coming of

With Joy I don’t cry

God’s love is wide like sea,
Once was blind but now i see.
With joy i kissed the blue sky,
But with joy never did i cry.

May it be silver i own or gold,
May i meet a dead friend of old,
Might i become a King under the sun
Surely my tears of joy don’t sip for fun.

But let my heart be pierced with words,
Tears of anger flock out like birds.
Any inflictious words and those sarcastic,
Leave my eyes in sorrowful and pathetic.

Whether i’m promised wings to fly,
Ecstasy and bliss may lift me high
But as long i’m in this earth of sorrows
My tears of joy will never kiss my brows.

Its because food never healed hunger.
All joy is vanity beyond stood anger.
When my joy will forever endure
Tears down my cheek i will ensure

Luceant Lux Vestra Afrika! by Farai Mpofu

On one beautiful morning on the mountain top in silence blowing and howling

Her serene songs to my ear

My femme – fatale, the wind shall gently sway her, lips and gently kiss my lips...

It is at the moment that I shall whisper a secret to her

It is then when I shall tell her to carry this secret across sandy golden dunes of the Sahara, down the evergreen everaining raining forests at the congo Basin,

I shall whisper to her to tell it to the singing savannah grass to the herds of galloping zebras and girraffes, and bellowing buffaloes, growling lions and laughing hyenas.

I shall ask my sensual sexy sensational seductive mistress the wind to the blow across Africa all the way to the greeness of Indian ocean,blowing eddies of brown cape karoo dust until she reaches the cold shark ridden corrents of the Atlantic,

She shall go all the way to the dirty black townships of Africa a whisper my secret to the old mothers selling chicken trotters wrapped in old newspapers at beerhall gates.And the secret shall be Luceant Lux Vestra Afrika,

Let your Light Shine Afrika.