POLITICIANS LIKE NAPPIES HAVE TO BE CHANGED OFTEN AND FOR THE SAME REASON!

PEOPLE' SERVANTS

the dog fights
juicy bone at stake
that is the bottom line
falling over each other
just to be servants
the masses are the masters
feeding on the crumbs
falling from servants' tables
the left over masses
the rest decimated
wallowing in squalor
feeding from garbage bins
just take a look

WARPED STORY

the story is warped
that reversal of roles
the servant is master
that story is warped
the leader is master
pampered by the servants
living in abject poverty
drinking dirty water
smote by hunger and thirst
the ubiquitous shack dwellers

HEY![WHEN THE WARRIOR POET IS NOT FIGHTING AGAINST EVIL IN HIGH AND LOW PLACES!]

SWEETLY CHAINED

ensnared by your sweet charms
am a willing prisoner
up the hills and down the valleys
at your sacred well
there i will quench my thirst
the taste of your cooking
i may not just be a passerby

KEEPING THE FIRE BURNING

tasting the sweetness
the sweetness of imagination
kindling the love fire
keeping wintry nights at bay
longing for a tight embrace
for you are miles away
seeking solace in poets' words
loneliness makes the heart grow fonder
longing to be with you
sharing our hopes , fears and dreams
listening to our profound thoughts
sharing the sweetness of togetherness
kindling that love fire forever

TO YOU WOMAN

that day i remember
clearly etched in my mind
you walked in through the door
the swish swash of your dress
then i instinctively looked up
the fragrance of your perfume
then my nostrils twitched
your dazzling, sparkling teeth
there and then i was hypnotised
speech then deserted me
then your sing -song voice
and i was dumb struck
your voice caressed my soul
then i gave you dominion
the eloquence of my silence
then i knew you would be mine
all i could say was 'good bye'
i still yearn to see you again
forever you will cast away my pain

POLY TRICKS [OR IS IT POLITICS] POETRY AT WORK

promises and lies

on the podiums
the con-artists at it

hear the oratory
the dew-like promises

their henchmen at it
in towns, cities and villages

gratuitously dispensing violence
pleasing the sadistic masters

con-artists with poly tricks
raping the people again

those bags of poly tricks
the demise is at hand


once bitten

out of their cocoons
sleeping in huts on reed mats
throwing trinkets like confetti
the floods of sweet promises
opportunists and their henchmen
giving rides in fast imported cars
building the false consciousness

then the deathly silence comes
the broken or forgotten promises
the richman's heaven is the poorman's hell
with their concubines wining and dining
elsewhere the whirlwinds and dust
they are gone, gone for a long time

to a nutty professor

then you had incisive thoughts
delivering telling blows
the thunder and lightning of protest
then you tasted the evil candy
joined the obscene wining and dining
the songs of praise submerged the dirges
[will you say you were the cancer?]
din of doubt in our minds
that protracted assault on independent thought
the truncheons outpaced thought
those draconian pieces of legislation
that we forever bitterly remember

jilted lover

the sweet caresses
the succulent love making
a match made in heaven
seemingly eternal bliss

then the promises and lies
the fire died then
the jilted lover on the rampage
holding onto illusions

the dawning reality
blows and kicks replace caresses
rival suitors bruised
erstwhile lover raped!


bird of prey

despondency like a bird of prey
in its claws holds our hopes
tearing to shreds our aspirations
devouring our cherished future

but look at our resilience
the vampires cannot hold sway
ours is a righteous fight
throw the heavy armour away

could these be the days of old
the days of the sling and the stone
the days of the donkey jaw bone
the fate of the jericho walls

that hope refuses to die
that bird of prey is smote
hot lead pierces its heart
the chicks grow unharmed

gods ahead[poem one] and emancipation day[poem two]

down on our knees we go
worshipping those little gods
the insatiable gods of lust
the lust for power
insatiable lust for sex
the insatiable lust for nicotine
the little gods in our safes and wallets
the songs of praise we sing
the shrines we build for the gods
there is our demise
that is how the gods reward us

poem two

garland of human skulls
striding majestically to podiums
diarrhoea speech noone has ears for
cheered on by gaunt, derelict skeletons
then a deathly silence reigns
the great wizard at the banquet
sumptuous meal of human liver
drinking human blood for wash down
muffled voices of gaunt, derelict skeletons
the voices will reach a crescendo
the invincibility of king owl now a myth

JABULANI

justice is what i yearn for
and on that there is no compromise
better take flight you wicked ones
uncompromising is this fighter
lashing out viciously at vampires
annihilating the ubiquitous evil schemes
not pandering to the whims of the wicked
in the perpetual struggle for justice


the first letter of each line[read downwards]spells out my name:jabulani[rejoice or be happy]
i wrote these lines to constantly remind mysef and others that i am a child of the struggle against evil schemes wherever they are.[talk of the struggles in palestine.afghanistan,iraq,tibet,zimbabwe,south africa,sudan,nigeria hey everywhere where there is a struggle for justice.]injustice is what i detest most.justice is what i yearn for.come help me sing this song of righteous indignation!

ART AND CRISES

there is something very strange about the connection between art and crises.some of the greatest works of art have emerged during times of crises in human lives.

maybe this is what led shimmer chinodya[zimbabwean author] to say,'writing is drawn more towards pain than happiness.'i strongly believe he was correct when he made a statement to that effect.

the repression in czarist russia seems to have made the creative juices of writers like nikolai gogol flow.i have read his short story entitled ' the great coat'.it is a great story which essentially is a serious indictment of czarist bureaucracy.

the witty play' the government inspector' by the same author is satiric of the corrupt tendencies of russian public officials in that era.

in respect of visual arts[painting in particular] i am aware of the painting 'guernica' by pablo picasso.it evokes images of what happened during the nazi bombing of guernica, spain.the tragedy inspired picasso to paint 'guernica'.

closer to home[zimbabwe] i have read some of the works of malawian poets jack mapanje and frank chipasula.the crisis that banda was in malawi inspired these poets to compose poems that leave one mesmerised.just leaf through the pages of 'of chameleons and gods' by jack mapanje and whet your appetite.the hard hitting works of frank chipasula in 'whispers in the wings' will leave you nodding in agreement that art thrives where crises abound!

back home[zimbabwe]i still can recall the hard hitting lyrics of the songs of dr thomas tafirenyika mapfumo.the crisis that rhodesia was,greatly inspired this musician.even post independence the numerous crises bedevilling zimbabwe made him compose songs with prophetic lyrics.

i do not know what the great debacle on election results in zimbabwe has yielded in terms of works of art.when the crisis is over i will seek to coordinate the publication of works of art created during this other sad chapter in our history[herstory too].i am almost certain that our artists[myself included] are busy.the creative juices are flowing in the midst of this ominous chaos!

WARPED MINDS

[poem dedicated to the child soldiers used as pawns in mindless wars in africa.]
the village playground robbed
the resonating laughter is gone
young minds are now warped
the sacrosanct is profaned
unbridled lust for power
that is reigning supreme
with the aid of mind bending drugs
children turned into primeval beasts
children robbed of their innocence
turned into merchants of death
shooting, killing, burning and looting
evil men and women at the helm
sipping coffee and tea in plush offices
the unbridled lust for power
the village playground is robbed
the vibrant african laughter is gone
now is the redemption time