Beautiful Venting... by Zibusiso Mpofu

Photo by Mgcini Nyoni

As the dollar rises
Each day
I count the rays of the sun
Piercing my grouchy skin
To blackness it has never before seen
As the dollar rises
Each day so do my hopes and dreams
Dreams of a proper meal
A day
A slice of bread, with the
Morning rain
And morning tea
In a fragile cup of porcelain frivolity
Yes, a proper dream
Of a hope for my children’s children...
As the dollar rises
Each day
I do dream of a cool day
Of morning dew touching my clear skin
As the morning rain
Pit-Patters on the little horizon
A proper dream
A slice a day
A hope for my children 's children
Just a proper dream.

A Woman Called Somalia by Mgcini Nyoni

Image - independent.co.uk

The vultures are circling

we won’t last another week.

They know it

But we might:

sell your extra handbags

food for a year

get rid of your cosmetics bag

food for another year

The contents

of your rubbish bin

will last us a month

You don’t have to

but we are begging you to.

The vultures are circling

angling for my

emaciated child

We won’t last another week

unless you sell one wheel

of your Hummer

and feed us for two years:

You don’t have to

but you can;

sell one of your yachts

and feed us for five years

We are not your responsibility

we know

But you can

stop the vultures circling

by not buying the

thousand dollar shoe

or going on that expensive holiday.

We don’t mean to impose

but you can stop

the circling vultures.

I Sing A Song by Mgcini Nyoni

I sing a song
for the lovers
kissing and cuddling
in the park
It might not last forever
or it might
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the young prostitute
her life might change
and she perhaps
won’t cry a river
every night
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the children
playing and screaming
in the dusty street
ecstatic in their
youthful innocence
They should enjoy it
while it lasts
I sing a song
for the wife
enjoying orgasm for the first time
after ten years of marriage
there is always light
at the end of the tunnel
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the pregnant teenager
Perhaps she is carrying
the country’s next president
perhaps he won’t be a tyrant
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the old lady
roasting nuts and maize by the roadside
to feed AIDS orphans
So we can say YES WE CAN
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the flowers in bloom
the singing birds-
reminding us to smile
and be happy once in a while
I sing a song
for the silently weeping,
the grieving
the broken-hearted-
it will come to pass
and the sun will shine again
I sing a song
for the young man
looking longingly at the luxury car
and muttering ONE DAY
One day he will realize his dream
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the young couple
taking comfort in their
love for each other
minding not
the sugarless black tea
So I sing a song
I sing a song
for the poet
scribbling by candlelight
knowing not
when a publishing deal will come
but hopeful
I sing a song