WORDSPEARS are MIGHTIER than SWORDS!( Poets Free Zimbabwe Vol.2)

MP- Poets Free Zimbabwe  Vol 2( Journal against  Grace Mugabe perpetrated violence and displacements) .Zimbabwe  is  under serious  threat  from  a monarchical  and Napoleonic   machinations  of  the Mugabe  oligarch.  Zimbabweans  are  tired  of picking  crumbs  of  poverty  in  a   country abundant  with natural  resources   that  are  being looted by  the  few, especially  those in  the  high echelons of power. On top of  that  voters  are subjected to untold  violence  and  intimidation. Chitungwiza   residents  are  bandaging wounds  of violence everyday  of God . Manzou  villagers are regretting  of     being born  Zimbabwe ( a  police  state) .  Zimbabwe  need  to  be  freed from the  grip of  violence ,corruption ,hatred  and  greed.Grace Disgrace Marufu Mugabe continues to insult  the    dignity  of  Zimbabwean women  by  her  careless  vitriol and  foul mouth( Super Sunday – Tinoenda  kumwedzi  nguva  dzakasiyana),God  forbid !. The Poets Free Zimbabwe(  Word Guerrillas)  are   here to  stay  as they  continue  to  remind  the Mugabe  dynasty  that  we need  our country from their  dirty  hands and  we can start again ,so  far Zimbabwe is closed ,we need  a new leadership. This blog  a sister   journal   to the Brave Voices Poetry Journal , so  that  we fight  the   tyrant   from  all angles. Thank  you Word guerrillas- Jambiya , Haile Saize, Jabulani Mzinyathi , JAH POET Masenga  and Cde Waison Wilson Tynoe- Aluta Continua!   Email us  at miombopublishing@gmail.comAnd also participate on Facebook groups. Word Spears are mightier than Swords-Mbizo Chirasha.

 

ECHOES OF DISTRESS
The tailor booted at sixty told he’s inept
Caused the economy to grew malignantly
Adding zeros at freewill accumulating to
Six figures a note, Amnesia spoken off
If not for the gun held to my forehead
I would have inquired for justice thwarted,
Too, to have denied the self imposed amnesia
Of a century blood overwhelmed by power
Though ruthless be the trailer I will protest
In rage the impartialities brought and deny
Being the victim of circumstances today
The brave voices enchants to wage war
Alas the son of soil got me yoked and mocked
Dancing in the dust, Storms so inflicting
His authority even questioned by her actions
A coup in disguise as she grace his crow

 

Tynoe Wilson (- a  Fast  Rising poet, servant of the masses, citizens justice activist)

 

 

DRY CRY

 

Cleanse the blood that stained Chimoio
Heal the bleeding wounds of those bruised in Chitungwiza
Respect their affiliation
Is it still Rhodesia that you forward with the land act
Draft the tears of homeless Manzou residents
Evicted
Evitated
Savages’ expansion
Exploitation
Victimization
Industrializing our piece of earth
What’s that worth?
Citizens turned to destitutes
Morden day fruit-gatherers
And cave-dwellers
Our vote displaced us
Only mountains are shielding our salvage
How long shall people bleed?
Citizens weep
Cry blood Zimbabwe its revolution time
The hour is at hand
Dictatorial sun must set
Justice and freedom day dawn
Tired of wet cheeks
Dry cry the world can’t see
Soldier up no more turn cheek
This time let us not bow down.

 

Sydney Haile Saize 1 (– a Word guerrilla, a fighter of human rights, a Word slinger in the Campaign against despotism)

 

8 FORKED SERPENTS

 

love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you –

the Jack in the beanstalk who strangles, rapes and exterminates mankind –

To love as Christ loves us;
this is our highest mandate.

In my despairing war and cry, I mourn,

“What kind of justice God is this to love an animal that plunders and butchers; that chops the head from a human frame.

How do we love a Chimera who gobbles the meal of the famished;
the Orochi who wears the labour of the people as embroided gowns;
then parades her adornment of gold and precious stones;
the warlock that mangles then exsanguinates the victims –

how can we be asked to show mercy to a beast who preys on the vulnerabilities of the defenceless.

God if this love is at all possible please fill us now so that we may live the remainder of our lives in peace,

even if now is then –

let the nights rest set in
for our hearts love not them
whose deeds we loathe –
and faces we spit on.

What bittersweet love is this
that you show and
bequeath to us –

that you require of us –

(C) Jambiya
“The power of words”

Jambiya(is an emotive writer who weaves the tragedy and victory of the human experience into a tapestry of memorable imagery and metaphor? She speaks with honesty on the spiritual and social challenges of our time. Jambiya’s works are a must read for those accustomed to the jaded perfunctory cleverness of modern wordsmiths)

 

I AM BITTER
I’m bitter
i have nothing sweet for the people.
I’m the gall bladder
leave me alone if i’m not edible,
if not audible;whatever!
I think violently,
and write angrily
because violence is the environment that i am confined to live in;frustrated!
Everyday is bloody chaos
in the streets
in the city
cowing me to voice my bitter rage
into poetry.
Police,heavily armed
for the unarmed vendors.
Logic?
Police!
beating up the unemployed
sufferers
trying to make ends meet.
Police,
turning the vendors’ tables upside
down
crushing all their fruits and vegetables
and survival hope.
I’m bitter.
I can’t be sweet.
I behold that which forces me
to change
from writing of natural disasters
into writing of man-bred tear-gas and baton-stick catastrophes;
of the government evading its responsibilities
and hiding behind see-through conspiracies.
Of the system bent on brutality
unleashing police dogs to victimize the civilians it must protect.
I am bitter
and you must be bitter too!
Blessing T Masenga(a bold word guerrilla, a fiery poet through his writings tirelessly and boldly seek to strip nude the oppression and the violations of basic human rights)

 

LETTER  TO MY  DAUGHTER

 

this poem reshuffled cabinet
the rhythm resigned the president
its metaphors adjourned parliament

my daughter
awaken sleeping patriots eating peanut in slogan darkness
rise dozing voters in the warmth of political acid
awaken struggle heroes in graves tired of wrong epitaphs and fake eulogies
awaken fat cats puffing zanunised and mdcided propaganda burgers in slumber

rise green horns drinking much talked herbal tea of change
grandfathers of patriotism to bring back
truth drowning in potholes of grief
god fathers of change to bring back my vote choked in drums of new renewed
corruption

bring red hot charcoal to roast political bedbugs sucking our blood in daylight
bring a word scientist to burn the justified injustice in poetic sulphuric acid

my daughter
this poem reshuffled cabinet
the rhythm resigned the president
the metaphors adjourned parliament

Mbizo  Chirasha( Founder/Campaign Servant  of the Zimbabwe We Want Poetry Campaign,  Poet , Writer , Social Justice Activist)

 

 

 

THE SUN LONG SET

 

The sale by date is gone

The sun long set

The dementia has set in

Someone did not tell the emperor

Tell the emperor of his nudity

Is it the warmth in that cocoon

Shielding you from the nauseating poverty

Not seeing those yawning shells

That were once thriving factories

The ever escalating mass unemployment

That to you is evidence of progress

When home is now not habitable

That your brats live next door

You do not see the conspicuous hypocrisy

Blind to your double standards

The dementia long took root

Heidi Holland was spot on after all

Jabulani  Mzinyathi(a Zimbabwean to the marrow. A firm believer in the peter tosh philosophy that there will be no peace if there is no justice. Jabulani is a pan African and a world citizen)