By Mbizo CHIRASHA, World BEYOND War, July 31, 2020
MY PAINFUL POETRY
Its rhymes are of the poverty stripped widows in Liberia.
Its symbols are of the slain cops freezing on the mortuary slabs of Gambia
Its imagery is of freedom succumbing within bomb cry in Nigeria
Its sound is of poverty shriveled breasts of mothers in Eritrea
Its surprise is of hunger tortured children in Ethiopia
Its echo is of war caused orphans digging for fortunes and future in rubbish dumps of Somalia
My painful poetry
Its connotations are of the weeping of ethnic tribes in Libya
Its voice is of groaning stomachs of banks in Namibia
Its tragedy is of sewage pipes gushing out disgusting contents in the streets of Zambia
Its metaphors are machetes slicing wombs in the valleys of Katanga
Its similes are of blood stained walls of sufferance in Tanzania
Its alliterations are of genocides and atrocities in Rwandan corridors
Its resonance is of butchers and slaughters in Burundian drives
My painful poetry
Its beat is of apartheid explosions in South Africa
Its allegory is of the crying of the Povo in Zimbabwe
Its satire is of the inking of villages in Mozambique
Its irony is barter exchange of diamond and riles in Angola
Its epitaph is the dying of the cultures in Algeria
My painful poetry is painful and never beautiful
