Poem
Ignatius T. Mabasa
Poetry
Clink clink, clank clank!Culinary noise ain’t cooking
It may just be noise of pots ‘n pans
Knocking bottoms, flirting with spoons
Poetry is not big words
Poetry is not confusion,
Mystification, chaos and noise.
Poetry is not about ranting rage
Like stock exchange bulls and bears
Nor is it all about romance and roses.
Poetry is not about neat, polite lines.
Neither is it about rhythm and rhyme
Idioms, proverbs and all their rude cousins.
Poetry is an old man in dusty fields
A scarecrow, talking to himself
Poking the stunted rapoko crop
And asking himself
‘What happened to the land
That the government redistributed?
Was it all taken by the news-reader
Because he got the news first?’
Poetry is written over the wrinkles
Of an old woman in a hospital ward
Next to her dying daughter
Who no longer talks, eats or blinks,
Shitting herself without apology
And the old woman thinks:
‘Death never used to be so sophisticated!’
Poetry is storytelling
Only that it does not tell
Of stories in a far, far away land
Poetry is in the eyes of a broke policeman
Who waves your car to stop at a roadblock
And goes round and round your car
Like a miserable mangy dog chasing its tail
Looking for a fault to get a bribe from you
For him to buy a loaf of bread for his kids.
Poetry is speaking the unspoken.
© Translation: 2006, Ignatius T. Mabasa
Nhetembo
Nhetembo
Gwe gwengwendereGwedebu, gwedebu!
Kugwedebudza hakusi kubika!
Vakomana, nhetembo hadzisi ruzha
Nhetembo hadzisi bishi,
bongozozo nemhere-mhere!
Nhetembo hadzisi hasha bedzi
Nhetembo harusi rudo rwega
Nhetembo haisi mitsara.
Hatingati mabvumira, mutinhimira
Mahon’era, tsumo nemadimikra
Ndizvo nhetembo, kwete.
Zviripo, zvirimo zvirimo munhetembo
Izvozvo hamuzvioni, asi ini
Ndinozviona, ndinozvinzwa
Ndakamboda kukuudzai nezvazvo
Asi hamuone, hamunzwe.
Nhetembo ndisekuru kumakura
Mudonzvo uchibaya-baya
Turukweza tusingakure
Vachitaura vega nemavende
Kuti, “Ko iro vhu ratakanzi rinouya
Richauya riinhiko zvataneta kumirira?
Asi rakatorwa rese nemuverengi wenhau
Nekuti ndiye akatanga kunzwa nezvazvo?”
Nhetembo ndimai vakabereka
Vanopukuta misodzi vagere muchipatara
Parutivi pemwana wavo anogomera
Asisataure, asisadye, asisvinure
Asisatarisike
Drip yakanyura muruoko
mudzonga wechimukuyu
Nhetembo ndimukoma vakapedza degree
PaUniversity vagere kumba pamushana
BSc Agriculture Honours, Crop Science
Vachiverenga column 30 yeHerald
Izere mabasa anoda maSecretary nemaMaids.
Nhetembo ndisisi kumaAvenue
Vakazvimba ziso nemuromo
Nekuti vakatiza mapurisa
Vakawira mudhireni
Ndokuzorohwa neclient
Yaramba kubhadhara 30 minutes
Nhetembo iri mumeso aKombi driver
Ari kuridza Madhawu achiverenga mari
Nekumhanyira kurank kuchingwa.
Nhetembo here, dzinenge ngano
Chete kungoti idzo hadzitange nekuti paivapo, kare kare
Asi kuti dzinotaura nyaya dzemazuva ese.
Dziri mumaziso emupurisa akabhuroka paroadblock
Ari kungotenderera achitsvaga mhosva pasina
Achiti pamwe, dzimwe nguva angango . . .
Nhetemboka mukoma, ndiblaz bofu
Vasisina ruremekedzo rwavaive narwo mubhazi reUnited
Vachingopiswa nefodya nevanhu vavasingaone
Kubackseat reCommuter kusina window!
Nhetembo hakusi kupupa furo
Nhetembo hakusi kunyadzisira
Kutuka kana kupopota
Nhetembo kutaura nevanhu.
Nhetembo ndini newe!
© 2004, Ignatius T. Mabasa
From: Muchinokoro Kunaka
Publisher: Zimbabwe Publishing House, Harare
From: Muchinokoro Kunaka
Publisher: Zimbabwe Publishing House, Harare
Poems
Poems of Ignatius T. Mabasa
Close
Poetry
Clink clink, clank clank!Culinary noise ain’t cooking
It may just be noise of pots ‘n pans
Knocking bottoms, flirting with spoons
Poetry is not big words
Poetry is not confusion,
Mystification, chaos and noise.
Poetry is not about ranting rage
Like stock exchange bulls and bears
Nor is it all about romance and roses.
Poetry is not about neat, polite lines.
Neither is it about rhythm and rhyme
Idioms, proverbs and all their rude cousins.
Poetry is an old man in dusty fields
A scarecrow, talking to himself
Poking the stunted rapoko crop
And asking himself
‘What happened to the land
That the government redistributed?
Was it all taken by the news-reader
Because he got the news first?’
Poetry is written over the wrinkles
Of an old woman in a hospital ward
Next to her dying daughter
Who no longer talks, eats or blinks,
Shitting herself without apology
And the old woman thinks:
‘Death never used to be so sophisticated!’
Poetry is storytelling
Only that it does not tell
Of stories in a far, far away land
Poetry is in the eyes of a broke policeman
Who waves your car to stop at a roadblock
And goes round and round your car
Like a miserable mangy dog chasing its tail
Looking for a fault to get a bribe from you
For him to buy a loaf of bread for his kids.
Poetry is speaking the unspoken.
© 2006, Ignatius T. Mabasa
From: Muchinokoro Kunaka
From: Muchinokoro Kunaka
Poetry
Clink clink, clank clank!Culinary noise ain’t cooking
It may just be noise of pots ‘n pans
Knocking bottoms, flirting with spoons
Poetry is not big words
Poetry is not confusion,
Mystification, chaos and noise.
Poetry is not about ranting rage
Like stock exchange bulls and bears
Nor is it all about romance and roses.
Poetry is not about neat, polite lines.
Neither is it about rhythm and rhyme
Idioms, proverbs and all their rude cousins.
Poetry is an old man in dusty fields
A scarecrow, talking to himself
Poking the stunted rapoko crop
And asking himself
‘What happened to the land
That the government redistributed?
Was it all taken by the news-reader
Because he got the news first?’
Poetry is written over the wrinkles
Of an old woman in a hospital ward
Next to her dying daughter
Who no longer talks, eats or blinks,
Shitting herself without apology
And the old woman thinks:
‘Death never used to be so sophisticated!’
Poetry is storytelling
Only that it does not tell
Of stories in a far, far away land
Poetry is in the eyes of a broke policeman
Who waves your car to stop at a roadblock
And goes round and round your car
Like a miserable mangy dog chasing its tail
Looking for a fault to get a bribe from you
For him to buy a loaf of bread for his kids.
Poetry is speaking the unspoken.
© 2006, Ignatius T. Mabasa
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