Elders tell me the battle of 1992 was something else,
All I remember is the yellow sadza, I was there, nonetheless.
The scars I have are from the 2007-8 battle,
I can’t imagine anything worse.

I wouldn't wish my experiences, then, on my worst enemies.
I have badges & trophies, medals & memories I would rather not possess.

I am not resilient, I am not strong at all, as many suggest,
I am just powerless.

I see the tell tale signs of another one coming,
My heart is beating, I am sweating, I am anxious.
I am not prepared despite all my experiences in these battles.
The battles for dignity,
The battles for livelihood,
The battles for three square meals.

I am just a Zimbabwean.

I'm so lucky to be from the pearl of Africa
where democracy is just but a name
where independence was given but with chains
where a thousand busk in the millions' pains
I'm so lucky to be from a country where reigns total freedom of speech
as long as you're not a member of the opposition
a country where freedom of speech only lasts until the speech is made
if only you could ask the hundreds incarcerated,most are dead
for what? for not not realising the freedom doesn't count after speech
I'm lucky to be from a country that gives no **** about human rights
especially these meaningless developments
like right to internet, what a sweet place to live
no Whatsapp, no Facebook nor twitter and why?
Tomorrow is the swearing in of our new old President...
not that age is important, after all it's just a number
tomorrow we usher in a very comprehensive government
one which has managed to stretch its tentacles across three decades
tomorrow we will see fat bellied millionaires
on screens of those who can afford televisions
congratulate our president who's filled with enthusiasm
to rule a poor mass who voted for their corruption free bellies
and thus social media could be used to bomb our young innocent leader
black mambas beautify our streets while jet fighters ornamentally
buzz across the blue skies, as if Osama has resurrected in Kampala
to the visitors, we are not at war...those are salutes to our most cherished one
the visionary, the most trusted, the compassionate
the one who wouldn't hurt a fly or swat a mosquito
we can't take any chances, just tune your channels tomorrow
for first hand glimpse of the merry and youthful dances
social media is a destruction yet our president deserves all ears
in the sky, on the streets from the hopeless unemployed
tomorrow we speak not of change but change without change
tomorrow we usher in steady progress for another five years
tomorrow we start to smile and wipe the tears
for tomorrow we acknowledge the old man is here to stay
I hear even the Zimbabwean tortoise is in the country
ready to congratulate his associate...these boys fought for their countries
they freed us from crucibles into their heavenly hades...
we should appreciate they have sacrificed too much...
tomorrow is public holiday, forward to conservative past we match
back from the beautiful future we don't deserve
tomorrow like helpless dogs we bow to our master's collar
tomorrow we bury our hopes for change and feed on this yellow muck
the swamp of greed, we can't risk defiance, we're stuck
we're like the long horned cattle of the west
for tomorrow the fat ticks start to **** and ****
but I wonder, for how long, for how long will we just talk?
when will we do more than just silently sob?
I bleed for my country or a country I once thought was mine
I bleed the taxes, the ruthless beatings, the tear gas
I bleed like a slave being whipped by these fatigued caravans
I bleed despair and melancholy and wander
like a headless chicken,for how long though? I wonder!
I bleed for God and my Country
for Uganda, I bleed...

A heart,
A soul,
A troubled heart,
A wounded soul,
A bleeding heart,
A wandering soul,
My heart,
My soul,
My hardened heart,
My battered soul,
The heart of a lion,
The soul of a bull-dozer,
The heart of a survivor,
The soul of a fighter
The heart of a guerrilla,
The soul of a gorilla,
I have seen it all,
I am a freedom fighter,
I am a Zimbabwean,
At heart and soul.

I did not decide,
To be Zimbabwean,
Neither did I decide,
To be in Zimbabwe,
If I had a choice,
I would neither,
Be a Zimbabwean,
Nor be in Zimbabwe,
Only if I had a choice.

A humanitarian crisis,
A situation catastrophic,
A sprawl of ramshackle buildings,
Now vacated,
As masses continue to flee,
What’s left of their battered motherland,
With operation Murambatsvina at its apex,
I left where my house used to stand,
Now a rubble of broken bricks and choking dust,
Just with the dress I was wearing,
And bitter memories of a faceless monster,
The prophet of doom,
An epitome of conflicted personality,
The hardhearted devil personified,
I fled on foot,
Ran-walked, ran-walked,
Swam across the Limpopo River,
Ran-walked across Kruger National Park,
Met the police,
Abused, ***** and sent back,
Swam back,
Ran-walked, ran-walked,
This is the Zimbabwean fate,
Our heart-wrenching fate,
Exodus after exodus.

for the sort of people who were
camel jockeys all their life,
and never found any sedative
component of alcohol...

                              there is no
sedative allure in, alcohol?
  please find me the name
of the pusher, who supplied
     barbiturates for nietzsche...
herr doktor...

maybe you're talking to the wrong
whites,
or there isn't enough
oasis allure for what
these camel jockeys find
alluring... being strapped
to a ******* sundial...

oh yeah... dodo project:
1 on 1....
                 the day when english
psychiatrists
are an authority,
on the neurological study
done by ****** doctors...
that day...

  i'm about to heave a heavy
sigh of relief and say...
thank god i didn't
produce offspring...
i'm... way off...
being given less
the ****: arbeit macht frei
orders...
to being given
               futility per se
dancing: get the **** out
of 'ere limbo status!

"you" are my "here"
and my "now"...
       you take over...
now... you do...
you people with a past...
people with a history...
pople with fidgety
finger tips....
               you want your
******?
  thank **** we will
have your Taj Mahal
and Zimbabwean
beauties to make matters
more... clarifying...
good...
  ich sagen,
          alles güt!

                  oh i'm not here
for the streit...
there is no...
reaching into the germanic
confusion of pronouns...

   you know the difference
between...

ich kampf...
and mein kampf?
ja?
that ich, is indefinite!
mein?
that's definite!
                    
i struggle: indefinite...
want this lesson
in grammar?
you... ******* scold
of a worth of being?!

             we can have
lessons in grammar,
all-day-long...
until you
start screaming the name...

Hilga!
so eating pork and drinking
beer...
all bad...
alcohol will
never be associated
with sedatives?
     güt! alles güt!
jawohl, mein enigma herr.

   i em con-confused?
Zimbabwean ivory beauties!
coming...
                 wündérbār!

mögen mich,
aus zucken
via eine Picasso...

    ziemlichgesicht...
     all round: bravo!

ich hure meinselb zu
sprechen etwas deutsche...

no... i will not ****
your niqab bound bounties
of beauty...
or your
Zimbabwean ivory beauties...
your... pearls
of Mozambique...
retro **** wits...

                you jog...
on the ******* tread-mill...
you do that...
me? watch me...
do the dodo...
           i'm...
all... airy-*******-weary
of having to be argued for
a basis of: to continue...

    no...
you heard me...
no...
        
        you take your white
***** and excavate the ? pointer
on mars...
   i... am doing the Pilate...
            pose...
there is a grammatical
difference betweern
ich kampf
and mein kampf...
yeah...

               the first is:
indefinite... dispossesive...
          the latter is
definite... possesive...

i felt it was worthwhile
to learn some german,
before i anticipated
to die...
                  because...
i somehow forgot to keep
in tow,
the ambition designated
surrounding the upkeep
of genes...
like...
i forgot where ******
came from,
and the subsequent
camel jockeys...
like... OOPS!

        must have
      misplaced "them"...
alles güt...

and thank ****
i will not be screaming
the takbīr
to where i'm going...
so...
is screaming the takbīr
akin to... like... performing
            the hajj?

i just, want to know,
because,
i simply...
don't want to know...

oh i want to play
the ignorant drunk
dumb-**** european...
maybe,
just maybe...
i will step up my "game"
from camel-jockey-*****
does the coco
didlo ride-on...

oh, believe me,
i too want to "feel"
something...
-esque this narrative...
but it's like...
i have some sort of variant
of amnesia...
like...
forgetting to reach
a hard-on...
when... the bun is
buttered and ready
for processed meats
in an elongated "pose"...

i want to... care...
but the last increment
of me, strated
to whisper... alles güt...
and i began to remember...
oh.. this isn't me?
oh... right...
      
   thank god i am man,
and not an insect,
making myself
alligned
to some sub-human
collective of either
muslim, brown tinged,
or... ant or termite.

   good to know
i have been endowed
with a coping mechanism
to stage
a dodo coup;
but i know all the pretty
brown boys will
fight hard,
to forever keep
their hard-ons...
for white ******...
who...
without specimens
akin to me...
will start...
   becoming more and
more rare!

Now Smithy was as angry as poo
He said Mickey, "Oi, Listen, must you!
  Come here for a meeting
  It'll be only fleeting
But be there by a quarter to two."

As loud as he dared
With nostrils all flared
  Smith ranted and raved
  Like he was depraved
No wonder Mickey was scared

He began with a deep fierce roar
And huffed like a bear that was sore
  "It's not easy to say
I can't stand things this way
I can't take it like this any more."

Smith blew his red nose on his sleeve
Then said "You must take now your leave
  You've driven me crazy
  No, I'm not being lazy
I need some more me-time to grieve."

"I know that our feelings were strong
I am sorry that you must now be gone
  I'll always love you
  You held my hand in the loo
It's not that you did anything wrong."

Now who should replace him within?
Our choices are looking too thin.
   I do know a man...
  This could be a plan...
A Zimbabwean that has a big chin.

Now the panel has been sacked
The whole system looks cracked
  Who is next their line?
  Graeme Smith would be fine..
The captain has not yet been whacked.

But what more can we say?
Madness now leads the way.
  Since Onions' not out
  South Africa have doubt
'bout all that's 'tween night and the day.

TRAVEL

Take me to the sunny cities of Africa
Especially to the sunny beaches of Madagascar
Or a moment at the Zimbabwean Victoria falls
Just to fill my insatiable need for cool air
A taste of fresh breeze tingling my skin
As I enjoy God’s immaculate nature creations

Take me to the Biblical soils of Israel
Make me visit the rice growing farmers of of Thailand
And show me the fabulous Great Wall of China
Then relax me in the floating hotels of Dubai
Then you know I like travelling much

There is a lot I need to see in this world
From the great historical monuments of United States
To the so much fabled twin tower ,
And maybe a sea-ride with the US marines
Staying a day in the samba cities of Brazil
Listening to soft reggae tunes from Jamaica

Sometimes I wish I could  see the Stonehenge
And have a cup of tea with the Queen
Does the Berlin corridor still exist?
That one I will check on my own …
As I travel around and around
With a plane made in  Japan