‘The next general elections expected to……blah blah blah blah’
‘A2 farmers expecting a bumper, bumper…..blah blah blah blah’
You shall surely miss the fantasies we had
Before going to bed
Fantasies of touring the stone walls of Great Zimbabwe
A world heritage historic site characteristic of a highly advanced African civilization The greatest ancient stone structure in Sub-Saharan Africa
Mosi-oa-tunya the smoke that thunders
From the glistening dew to the nippy breeze to the water falling 93m down
You shall surely miss the drama that I face as a Roman Catholic High Priest
As a Roman Catholic High Priest
I raise up high my open fist
And shout Oh! God be with you please
But what I get are handcuffs on my wrist
And accusations that I’m an antagonist
I’m neither an antagonist nor a conformist.
I am just a Roman Catholic High Priest
As a Roman Catholic High Priest
I raise up high my open fist
And say Oh! God be with you please
But what I get are handcuffs on my wrist
And accusations that I am an opposition activist
I am neither in politics nor a Pan-African ideologist
I am simply a Roman Catholic High Priest.
I my brother shall surely miss you
I can’t believe it to be true
Bound to the Street
Ragged and funny In dire need of money I bruise the pot-holed streets of the city Maiming the waste-filled alleys and dirty Daily I play twinkle-twinkle with death on the razor-sharp edge of humanity. Once I had a home Now I cannot pay the dues Once I went to college Now I cannot pay the fees Once I had a wife Now I cannot afford the price Poor the result of no economic emancipation Bound to the street because of some people's creation In a vacuum-filled belly I try the robber's invention Oouch! I cry in incaceration This cry , my cry, I cry Bound to the street, is it God's case Bound to the street, the street my place Bound to the street, the street I hate
Eyes closed, tears drop The drama of my sleeping mystery unfolding before my mental eyes like a tapestry I ravish and languish in hunger Feeding on left-overs Left by generous shoppers Hungry I was, am and still will be The history but of themhitherto societies is a history of class struggle and exploitation. How shall I leave the street struggle In such a society tailor-designed to suffer the helpless Where the should-be-helpers Are the pioneers of the exploitation, Suppression and oppression of the defenceless As for me and my street-mates We will travel along singing a song The song, my cry. Bound to the street, is it God's case Bound to the street, the street my place Bound to the street, the street I hate
I come from far further I am not a bird of your further You are a son to your father You are your mother's daughter I have non to call father or mother Neither to call sister nor brother But pay no attention to criticism like weather Rather lets read the holy book together Ang gather as a congregation together The bread as you gather Lets break share and eat together. Until we harness a new philosophy I will always cry This cry my cry. Bound to the street, is it God's case Bound to the street, the street my place Bound to the street, the street I hate
Comments (3) for "Poems for You"
man your imagination stretches to places that the average brains cant reach. I believe the talent came from God just use it!
By nickmanyumbu - 8/20/2008 4:54 PM
the poems are so eruptic and good
By loicciema - 8/24/2008 11:36 PM
Ko mukoma shoes, what about makomishoni neme oparashoni? Nda-a-suwa mufunge!
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Comments (3) for "Poems for You"