My Country
I deepen the tongue of my ink in the rich pot of praise and protest blisters of praise, scars of patriotism the war I fought without guns my laughter’s stitched with worry and fondness smiles of east laden with grief my country my heartburn for freedom is burning me roasted nuts of justice bleed no peanut remind me of those wind choked tunes of mountains remind me of happiness once perched on treetops alongside the orange tinge of dawn remind of laughter that echoed from mountain caves remind of the love dressed in the hearts of fathers remind of freedom songs that are buried together with ancestors remind me and I will sing with you I have a dream to ride those mountains of home and drink from the calabashes of their mist my country, you lost your salt
Matters of Conscience
Gulf of inspiration oils the spin weave of my mind Rhythm and imagery my constitution Meditation my second bible after proverbs I am apostoled by heart pounding drumbeat ritual of metaphors pandamu! pangu ! panda ! pako ! panda ! pandamu! pa! sanctified by breath choking incense of satire [wordsmith chiseling thesaurus rocks for jargon, poet planting saliva in wombs of readers digest to reap diction] Political suspense nutrition to my poetic conscience Social drama fodder to my mental digestion War rabies that poisoned the tongue of Pakistan. Diseased the saliva of Afghanistan Corruption. Polio, paralyzing penury burnt fingers of matopos and inflation butchered thighs of Zambezi Poverty. Scabies eating away bare brown. Winter ravaged buttocks of Darfur shrinking hunger sucked mango like breasts of tutsiville Religion measles blighting arteries of Vatican. Bleeding yellow gums of Mecca. Shriveling hoarse breath of Jerusalem
Viva Revolution
for Guyana and Tobago
Slavery blew off candles of generations Children molded by the clay of revolutions after revolutions Children of Guyana and Tobago Voices of reason drowned in clay of chocolates and rivers of Pepsi Cola Green back and condom generations with revolution sodden wounds and deep scars embedded in their pigment Children whose sweat washes the linen of oxford and tears rinse dishes of Harvard Generations of unending revolution, polishing emerald for Gucci And diamonds for Rivera Generations breakfasting sausages made from their sweat Children of revolution: I raise my pen, your sun will rise
©2020 Mbizo Chirasha
All rights reserved
Mbizo CHIRASHA, the Author of a Letter to the President. Co-Authored Whispering Woes of Ganges and Zambezi. Co-Edited Street Voices Poetry Collection (Germany Africa Poetry Anthology). Co-Editor of the Corpses of Unity Anthology. Associate Editor at Diasporia(n) online. Chief Editor at Time of the Poet Republic. Founding Editor at WomaWords Literary Press. Publisher at Brave Voices Poetry journal. Curator at Africa Writers Caravan.
UNESCO-RILA Affiliate Artist at University of Glasgow. 2020 Poet in Residence Fictional Café. 2019 African Fellow, IHRAF.ORG Project. Curator and Co-Editor of the Second Name of Earth is Peace (Poetry Voices Against WAR Anthology). Contributing Essayist to Monk Arts and Soul Magazine.
Poetry and writing appear in FemAsia Magazine, Wrath-Bearing Tree, Ink, Sweat, and Tears journal, One Ghana One Magazine, Ofi Press, World Poetry Almanac, Demer Press, Atunis Galaxy. Poetry online: IHRAF Publishes, The Poet a Day, Bezine.Com, Sentinel UK, Oxford School of Poetry Pamphlet, Africa Crayons, PulpitMagazine, Poetry Pacific, Zimbolicious, Best New Poets, Poetry Bulawayo, Gramnet webjournal, Diogen Plus, Poeisis.si, Festival de Poesia Medellin and elsewhere.
The BeZine 
Such rich and moving language! Pulls the reader in and never lets go. Thanks for sharing these with us, Mbizo! They are very evocative and well-penned! 🙂
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