Poetry Bulawayo

Image - https://www.fulfillmentwarehouse.biz/witness/default.asp?cat=327&pid=5201 They beat me with branches wrapped up in barb-wire, they beat me with branches wrapped up in barb-wire; my baby she crying, her face is on fire. They say you are sell-out, you vote Tsvangirai, they say you are sell-out, you vote Tsvangirai; my baby, she dying, please God, tell me why? They beat first my head then my back then my bums, they beat first my head then my back then my bums; they laugh and they say is like playing the drums. I beg them for water, they say go ask Blair, I beg them for water, they say go ask Blair. Please, put out the fire in Mucheche’s hair? My bottom is broken, can not sit or stand, my bottom is broken, can not sit or stand; Mucheche can’t breathe with her mouth in the sand. They burned all our mealies, our chickens, our dog, they burned all our mealies, our chickens, our dog; my uncle, they hit him to death with a log. ...

Image - palindromekmarie.blogspot.com We have grown fat on our children’s tears We have become rich on our children’s blistered hands and cracked feet We have allowed fat men with big stomachs and big luxury cars to tear our children’s hymen and we dare ask what’s wrong with our children We have crammed whole families into single rooms and the children sleeping under the bed can hear the parents having sex Our children have seen their mothers sneak in boyfriends   as soon as the father leaves for work at the industrial site Our children have seen their fathers with other men’s daughters behind the public toilet And we dare ask; what’s wrong with our children? We have given our children machetes taught them to chant party slogans and to clobber political opponents and we dare ask what’s wrong with our children We have become rich using dubious economic policies that have not benefited the ordinary man on the s...