The widely celebrated poet , mbizotheblackpoet brings you a christmas present/gift in form of a 95 poems poetry anthology Good Morning President ,the anthology touches a lot of issues that include the world political landscape , social issues , the world economic stress , cultural and religious fibres , it tries to interogate and discuss the ills on this world , issues on super power rot , stamina of propaganda, warts of corruption , dictatorship , plutocracy and autocracy ,dissease , poverty ,hunger and cultural dilution.
The anthology was published by Diaspora Publishers based in the United Kingdom , you can also find them on google , facebook , and the book is on sale on Amazon.com.
follow the works of the Black poet at http://www.mbizotheblackpoet.blogspot.com/ or google /mbizo chirasha
You can find some of Mbizo's poetry in the following journals
South Africa / -Consciousness Magazine, Sibali Journal Canada / -Ditch journal, Red fez entertainment journal, Paragon Press [Memorial University Creative Writing in Alberta2009] , Sun and Snow Anthology[Africa /Canada collaboration literary effort] , Word gathering Journal. United States / -Aids out Africa journal [2004 all Africa HIV/AIDS anti-stigma Poetry Contest, Poem2day Critical Review, Velvet Illusion journal, Poetry.Com, Phathood Literary Magazine, Psychic Literature Review, Full of Crow journal, African Writer.Com Journal, World Poetry Movement Contest [2011,pending] , Cultural studies journal 2007. Senegal- A Collection of Poems Radio Africa/ 2008 United Kingdom /- Forward Press Journals and Anthologies [2009-2011], Mazwi journal [2009] Wales /- Kushinda Arts Journal [2010] Haiti/Great Britain/- Poems Lime Jewel [Haiti Disaster Solidarity fundraising poetry/stories in Anthology 2010] Finland/- Collection of Poems in the Ovi Magazine [2007-2011] India/- Poems in Posy of Poesy Anthology 2009, Poets Paradise Anthology 2010 [Collections of World Poetry in English/English Dept/JKC College in Guntur] , - Whispering Woes of Ganges and Zambezi [Co-authored Poetry anthology by Mbizo Chirasha /Zimbabwe and New York Based Indian born Sweta Vikram/ a Cyber wit Press Publication August 2011] Turkey /– BH, Samat Icsrilankastargate Journal April 2010 Ghana/ - Poems in Volumes of One Ghana One Voice, Poem in ICACD Journal [Poet in Residence 2009] Norway /– Poems SAIH Website [Norwegian student journal, 2002] Germany /- Poems in Lyrik-line, Poems in Whispers of the Continent Anthology for 2012 Zimbabwe /- United States Public Affairs Section Website 2011 [Poems for US Ambassador Charles Ray New Generation Poets/Black History Month Celebration ] , Daily News in Zimbabwe Poetry Column[ April-July 2011] , The Mail Newspaper [Africa Day Poetry Special 2011], United Nations Information Centre Bulletins[2001-2008] , Iranian Embassy magazines[2001 -2005] Poetry Bulawayo Journal, Budding Writers Association/Writer Scroll journal[2002-2003], NCA Constitution Journal [2004-2007] , Africa Poetry Chat room blog [2007-2011] ,MbizotheBlackPoet blog [2011], Poetry for Somalia blog, Collection of Mbizo Chirasha Face Book Notes[2009-cont], Moto magazine[ gweru 1997-98] For more information about - Mbizo Chirasha, Profiles, Achievements, Programs, Festivals, Readings, News Interviews, Artists in residence programs and other published works Google using -Mbizo Chirasha or the Black PoetFace booking - Mbizo ChirashaNavigate Mbizo Chirasha on the following Web Blogs, Email Mbizo Chirasha on the following emails,Call Mbizo Chirasha on the following number/ +263 734 332309 begin_of_the_skype_highlighting +263 734 332309 end_of_the_skype_highlighting
blue lemons .poem by mbizo chirasha june 2011
by Mbizo Chirasha on Thursday, June 16, 2011 at 10:11am
iam the earth pregnant with poetic skulls and skeletons of prose
dawn of my poem strip nights naked
iam the nudity of truth and the rhythm of birth
with my heart dressed in pain
bring me the poetic grapes
and the metaphoric lemons
my mind is hanging like tobacco leaves
bring me the skeleton of my passion
and rhythm of my poetic licence
i see killers praying for silence and peace
isee the bleaching faith of my country
hope floating in detergents of propaganda
purple buttocks of morning sitting over fire and enduring faith
i hear the grief of slogan lashes and propaganda
sjmboks in the night of the ballot
iam you and me
my poetry is a menu of provocation
and imagination,as dove of words coo-, in the dawn
in my mental trees
iam the nudity of truth
and the rhythm of birth
i itch the syphilis of sunshine city
and the herpatitis of the city ofskulls
blue lemons,a black , white , brown ,yellow poem
from the black poet
by mbizo chirasha aka black poet,june 2011
DEMONS GRAZING 1/2
democracy does not heal the syphilis of apartheid
it never healed the hepatitis of racism
it is the ritual of the governed to govern
though they remain governed
democracy, a word of the corrupted learned
democracy, a fart of the bullet
signature of ballot
sting of the scorpion
blood boiling stomachs of darfur
darfur you smell Nagasaki
blood frothing hard rocky buttocks of Congo
Congo you sting Baghdad
hunger pornographing breasts in Somalia
ministers dangling bellies
poetry scattered in slums and ghettos
word stitched between bullet and ballot
grammar punctuated between slogan and vulgar
democracy an oxymoron of abacha’s machete and madiba’ bible
hyperbole of Guantanamo bay and robin island
- End -
DEMONS GRAZING 1/1
democracy
freedom unearthed from apartheid intestines
a legacy that carried sorrows since the days of yelping baboons
and yapping dogs
Monrovia blooming legumes of blood in superstitions
of blood harvesting
crocodiles basking in the east of political comfort zones
afghan with the heart burn for freedom
baboons laughing other baboons in political forests
politicians crushing poverty under their feet
polishing streets with the glitz of robots and rainbow sweet talk.
- End -
IDENTITY APPLESiam a fat skeleton, resurrecting
from the sad memories of dada
and dark mysteries of aminism
iam buganda
i bleed hope
i drip the honey of fortune
makerere, think tank of africa
i dance with you wakimbizi dance
iam tanganyika
i smell and fester with the smoke of african genesis
iam the beginning
kilimanjaro the anthill of rituals
iam the smile of africa
my glee erase the deception of sadness
my tooth bling freedom
iam myself, iam gambia
when others seep with bullets stuck in their stomachs
i sneeze copper spoons from my mouth every dawn
iam the the colombia of africa
iam the cinderella of africa
where mediums feast with the ghost of kamuzu in mulange trees
here spirits walk naked and free
iam the land of sensations
iam the land of reactions
coughing forex blues
squandermania
i still smell the scent of nehanda' breath
iam african renaissance blooming
i stink the soot of chimurenga
iam the mute laughter of njelele hills
iam soweto
swallowed by kwaito and gong
iam a decade of wrong and gong
iam blister of freedom vomited from the belly of apartheid
i see the dawn of the coming sun in madiba 's eyebrows
iam abuja
blast furnace of corruption
nigeria, the jerusalem of noblemen, priests, professors and prophets
iam guinea i bling with african floridirization
iam blessed with many tongues
my thighs washed by river nile
iam the mystery of pyramids
iam the grafiti of nefertiti
i am the rich breast of nzinga
iam switzerland of africa
the rythm of kalahari sunset
the rhyme of sahara, yapping, yelping
iam damara, iam herero, iam nama, iam lozi, iam vambo
iam bitterness, iam sweetness
iam liberia
iam king kongo
mobutu roasted my diamonds into the stink of deep brown blisters
frying daughters in corruption microwaves
souls swallowed by the beat of ndombolo and the wind of rhumba
iam the paris of africa
i see my wounds
iam rhythm of beauty
iam congo
iam bantu
iam jola
iam mandinga
i sing of you
i sing thixo
i sing of ogun
i sing of god
i sing of tshaka
i sing of jesus
i sing of children
of garangaja and banyamulenge
whose sun is dozing in the mist of poverty
iam the ghost of mombasa
iam the virginity of nyanza
iam scarlet face of mandinga
iam cherry lips of buganda
come sankara, come wagadugu
iam msiri of garangadze kingdom
my heart beat under rhythm of words and dance
iam the dead in the trees blowing with wind,
i can not be deleted by civilization.
iam not kaffir, iam not khoisun
iam the sun breaking from the villages of the east with great inspiration of revolutions
its fingers caressing the bloom of hibiscus
liberation!
(c) Mbizo Chirasha
dawn of my poem strip nights naked
iam the nudity of truth and the rhythm of birth
with my heart dressed in pain
bring me the poetic grapes
and the metaphoric lemons
my mind is hanging like tobacco leaves
bring me the skeleton of my passion
and rhythm of my poetic licence
i see killers praying for silence and peace
isee the bleaching faith of my country
hope floating in detergents of propaganda
purple buttocks of morning sitting over fire and enduring faith
i hear the grief of slogan lashes and propaganda
sjmboks in the night of the ballot
iam you and me
my poetry is a menu of provocation
and imagination,as dove of words coo-, in the dawn
in my mental trees
iam the nudity of truth
and the rhythm of birth
i itch the syphilis of sunshine city
and the herpatitis of the city ofskulls
blue lemons,a black , white , brown ,yellow poem
from the black poet
by mbizo chirasha aka black poet,june 2011
RHYTHM IN MY VOICE/for AFRICA DAY MAY 2011 by Mbizo Chirasha
by Mbizo Chirasha on Thursday, May 26, 2011 at 10:34am
RHYTHM OF MY VOICE
by Mbizo Chirasha on Wednesday, April 7, 2010 at 5:48pm
Rhythm of my voice
Rhythm of my voice bottled in the marrow of the state
Tongue of the moon kissed the bullet fractured skin of the night
Fingers if the sun caress the machete teared bosoms of horizon
Smell of apatheird linger on the thighs of rainbow nation
Stink of discrimination bottled in brand of reconciliation
I am the candlelight against the nights of stigmatization
I am a griot erasing shadows of marginalization
I am a poet shrugging off cocalization
I am the praised
I am the hunted
I am the blamed
I am the wanted
I am the liked
I am the needed
I am a patriot of words revolution
I am lyrical depth ofshakur
I am the poetic breath of Maya Angelou
I am a descendant Langston Hughes metaphors
I am a identity rhythm of Senghor
I am the dream of common black agenda
I am afro pop The rhytmof Keita and Kuti
I am Africa passion
I am Masekela rhymes,
Makeba song of freedom
Vibrating charisma of Obama
I am a creative miracle
I bubble with consciousness
I am whirlwind of renaissance
I am epitaph of widows in Rwanda
, silenced Congo
Orphaned Darfur
Plundered Burund
i Sanctioned Zimbabwe
My freedom Boeing 707 is Martin Luther King
My freedom train Malcolm Little X
My freedom spear is Bantu Biko, spear of the nation.
I am a brotheL powered by words
I am a not shabeen christened by condoms
my confidantes are Castro and Hugo
Bring me a true democrat
, Bring a trusted capitalist
I will write thousand poems
I am renovating peelings walls of cultural tradition
I am reminding of true political orientation
I am tired of superpower vibration
your hearbeat bleached in political fermentations
by Mbizo Chirasha on Wednesday, April 7, 2010 at 5:48pm
Rhythm of my voice
Rhythm of my voice bottled in the marrow of the state
Tongue of the moon kissed the bullet fractured skin of the night
Fingers if the sun caress the machete teared bosoms of horizon
Smell of apatheird linger on the thighs of rainbow nation
Stink of discrimination bottled in brand of reconciliation
I am the candlelight against the nights of stigmatization
I am a griot erasing shadows of marginalization
I am a poet shrugging off cocalization
I am the praised
I am the hunted
I am the blamed
I am the wanted
I am the liked
I am the needed
I am a patriot of words revolution
I am lyrical depth ofshakur
I am the poetic breath of Maya Angelou
I am a descendant Langston Hughes metaphors
I am a identity rhythm of Senghor
I am the dream of common black agenda
I am afro pop The rhytmof Keita and Kuti
I am Africa passion
I am Masekela rhymes,
Makeba song of freedom
Vibrating charisma of Obama
I am a creative miracle
I bubble with consciousness
I am whirlwind of renaissance
I am epitaph of widows in Rwanda
, silenced Congo
Orphaned Darfur
Plundered Burund
i Sanctioned Zimbabwe
My freedom Boeing 707 is Martin Luther King
My freedom train Malcolm Little X
My freedom spear is Bantu Biko, spear of the nation.
I am a brotheL powered by words
I am a not shabeen christened by condoms
my confidantes are Castro and Hugo
Bring me a true democrat
, Bring a trusted capitalist
I will write thousand poems
I am renovating peelings walls of cultural tradition
I am reminding of true political orientation
I am tired of superpower vibration
your hearbeat bleached in political fermentations
golgotha episode 911
by Mbizo Chirasha on Thursday, May 12, 2011 at 11:32am
Golgotha episode 911
written by mbizo chirasha , may 2010
ballot defaecating shadows of hunger over
poverty creased napkins of my mind
slums farting anopheles into the gutters of my blood
long departed hunters urinated bullets into iron uterus of
war tired peasants
giving birth to atomic bombs
and suckling grenades
media wizards imbibing propaganda salami
and slogan pizza
hunger mandraxed rabbis licking fingers after chalk dust noon meals
i am a word dynamite fumigating corrupt economic bedbugs
sucking out the fertility of our sunshine
clouds of hungry bellies rumble with a formula
sunrise with virus graffiti scribbled on its forehead
moon rise with roaches corrupting its eczema eaten breasts
bread buttered with tutsiville blood ,sanguages cheesed with
darfur wounds
gore dripping diamonds auctioned for flesh guzzling guns
brown teethed nights grazing green mealies before fingers
of dawn caress vendetta wounded minds
unrepentant Ngo bishops pimping vulnerables for fat cheque books,gong and bling
greenback laureates double crossing peacecrats and warcrats in donor shebeens
economic whores dipping their sperm-ducts in diplomatic brothels
paparazzi gutters vomiting garbage of spray painted columns
slogan dogs parodying Hiroshima farce and bag dad comedy
greenhorns licking leftovers of propaganda braai packs after ballot arithmetic
undersized zealots fitting political g-strings in springs of delimitation
political morons mastering propaganda syllabus in their gimmick- tired memories.
i am a poetic chlorine puritising political mental conveyor belts
from the crude oil of corruption
i am a metaphoric lotion peeling off eczema of the decade election herpatitis
written by mbizo chirasha , may 2010
ballot defaecating shadows of hunger over
poverty creased napkins of my mind
slums farting anopheles into the gutters of my blood
long departed hunters urinated bullets into iron uterus of
war tired peasants
giving birth to atomic bombs
and suckling grenades
media wizards imbibing propaganda salami
and slogan pizza
hunger mandraxed rabbis licking fingers after chalk dust noon meals
i am a word dynamite fumigating corrupt economic bedbugs
sucking out the fertility of our sunshine
clouds of hungry bellies rumble with a formula
sunrise with virus graffiti scribbled on its forehead
moon rise with roaches corrupting its eczema eaten breasts
bread buttered with tutsiville blood ,sanguages cheesed with
darfur wounds
gore dripping diamonds auctioned for flesh guzzling guns
brown teethed nights grazing green mealies before fingers
of dawn caress vendetta wounded minds
unrepentant Ngo bishops pimping vulnerables for fat cheque books,gong and bling
greenback laureates double crossing peacecrats and warcrats in donor shebeens
economic whores dipping their sperm-ducts in diplomatic brothels
paparazzi gutters vomiting garbage of spray painted columns
slogan dogs parodying Hiroshima farce and bag dad comedy
greenhorns licking leftovers of propaganda braai packs after ballot arithmetic
undersized zealots fitting political g-strings in springs of delimitation
political morons mastering propaganda syllabus in their gimmick- tired memories.
i am a poetic chlorine puritising political mental conveyor belts
from the crude oil of corruption
i am a metaphoric lotion peeling off eczema of the decade election herpatitis
democracy does not heal the syphilis of apartheid
it never healed the hepatitis of racism
it is the ritual of the governed to govern
though they remain governed
democracy, a word of the corrupted learned
democracy, a fart of the bullet
signature of ballot
sting of the scorpion
blood boiling stomachs of darfur
darfur you smell Nagasaki
blood frothing hard rocky buttocks of Congo
Congo you sting Baghdad
hunger pornographing breasts in Somalia
ministers dangling bellies
poetry scattered in slums and ghettos
word stitched between bullet and ballot
grammar punctuated between slogan and vulgar
democracy an oxymoron of abacha’s machete and madiba’ bible
hyperbole of Guantanamo bay and robin island
- End -
DEMONS GRAZING 1/1
democracy
freedom unearthed from apartheid intestines
a legacy that carried sorrows since the days of yelping baboons
and yapping dogs
Monrovia blooming legumes of blood in superstitions
of blood harvesting
crocodiles basking in the east of political comfort zones
afghan with the heart burn for freedom
baboons laughing other baboons in political forests
politicians crushing poverty under their feet
polishing streets with the glitz of robots and rainbow sweet talk.
- End -
IDENTITY APPLESiam a fat skeleton, resurrecting
from the sad memories of dada
and dark mysteries of aminism
iam buganda
i bleed hope
i drip the honey of fortune
makerere, think tank of africa
i dance with you wakimbizi dance
iam tanganyika
i smell and fester with the smoke of african genesis
iam the beginning
kilimanjaro the anthill of rituals
iam the smile of africa
my glee erase the deception of sadness
my tooth bling freedom
iam myself, iam gambia
when others seep with bullets stuck in their stomachs
i sneeze copper spoons from my mouth every dawn
iam the the colombia of africa
iam the cinderella of africa
where mediums feast with the ghost of kamuzu in mulange trees
here spirits walk naked and free
iam the land of sensations
iam the land of reactions
coughing forex blues
squandermania
i still smell the scent of nehanda' breath
iam african renaissance blooming
i stink the soot of chimurenga
iam the mute laughter of njelele hills
iam soweto
swallowed by kwaito and gong
iam a decade of wrong and gong
iam blister of freedom vomited from the belly of apartheid
i see the dawn of the coming sun in madiba 's eyebrows
iam abuja
blast furnace of corruption
nigeria, the jerusalem of noblemen, priests, professors and prophets
iam guinea i bling with african floridirization
iam blessed with many tongues
my thighs washed by river nile
iam the mystery of pyramids
iam the grafiti of nefertiti
i am the rich breast of nzinga
iam switzerland of africa
the rythm of kalahari sunset
the rhyme of sahara, yapping, yelping
iam damara, iam herero, iam nama, iam lozi, iam vambo
iam bitterness, iam sweetness
iam liberia
iam king kongo
mobutu roasted my diamonds into the stink of deep brown blisters
frying daughters in corruption microwaves
souls swallowed by the beat of ndombolo and the wind of rhumba
iam the paris of africa
i see my wounds
iam rhythm of beauty
iam congo
iam bantu
iam jola
iam mandinga
i sing of you
i sing thixo
i sing of ogun
i sing of god
i sing of tshaka
i sing of jesus
i sing of children
of garangaja and banyamulenge
whose sun is dozing in the mist of poverty
iam the ghost of mombasa
iam the virginity of nyanza
iam scarlet face of mandinga
iam cherry lips of buganda
come sankara, come wagadugu
iam msiri of garangadze kingdom
my heart beat under rhythm of words and dance
iam the dead in the trees blowing with wind,
i can not be deleted by civilization.
iam not kaffir, iam not khoisun
iam the sun breaking from the villages of the east with great inspiration of revolutions
its fingers caressing the bloom of hibiscus
liberation!
(c) Mbizo Chirasha
LUNCH TIME
i have eaten my poetry
i stuffed my metaphors for lunch
imagination my cool drink
empty bag of my stomach blowing tornado,
frustrated
a gunshot passed through my chest
another frustration
canister for fat breakfast
bullet for big supper
i am fasting the supper and breakfast
sun born with Vaseline on its forehead
moonrise with cancer on its breasts
tender skin of stars split by ghetto politics
kindas blowing condoms with lung wind
elders blowing balloons with broken hearts
another revolution
another liberation
another slice of politics
another rumble of hunger
another for the priest.
sweat drops, raindrops, tear drops
raindrops, teardrops, sweat drops
the breath of my pen stinks
i have eaten my poetry
i stuffed my metaphors for lunch
imagination my cool drink
empty bag of my stomach blowing tornado,
frustrated
a gunshot passed through my chest
another frustration
STINKING BREATH OF MY PEN
greasy propaganda apples for peasants
bourgeoisie for sweating corruption omelet
villagers for cassava and diet coke
streets for hip hop and toy guns
school uniform for PhD studies and bible for my daughter
wreath for saint valentine
roses for saint Paul
revolutions changed and revolutions unchangedbourgeoisie for sweating corruption omelet
villagers for cassava and diet coke
streets for hip hop and toy guns
school uniform for PhD studies and bible for my daughter
wreath for saint valentine
roses for saint Paul
canister for fat breakfast
bullet for big supper
i am fasting the supper and breakfast
sun born with Vaseline on its forehead
moonrise with cancer on its breasts
tender skin of stars split by ghetto politics
kindas blowing condoms with lung wind
elders blowing balloons with broken hearts
another revolution
another liberation
another slice of politics
another rumble of hunger
another for the priest.
sweat drops, raindrops, tear drops
raindrops, teardrops, sweat drops
the breath of my pen stinks
