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Best Poems Written by Clement Chipande

Below are the all-time best Clement Chipande poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

Black Woman

A fetching feminine
With magnificent melanin
A soft skin
With a shiny shin
A captivating cleavage
With syrupy sweat
A gorgeous girlfriend
With gleeful giggles
A warm woman
With humane heart
A mindful mother
With a sweet smile
A darling daughter
With healing hugs
A special sister
With a vigilant vision 
A great granny
With invaluable insights
A natural nanny
With wondrous witticism
A  habitable home
For a heavy heart
A verified vaccine
For a lonely lad
A pretty pioneer
Of a vibrant village
A success source
For majestic men
A black blossom
For dark dudes
A befitting babe
For any basking blaze
Mesmerizing melanin
Manifests in Melanie
A sent scent
Awakens Benjamin
A genuine jasmine
Flees from her black back
My beautiful black queen
NEVER bother bleaching!

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

The First Approach

Away...

Spot her  from far.
Have a tingle mingle all over your skin.
Award your forehead a scratch
As you do the arduous estimations
Of the remaining catwalk steps
Before her beauty kisses your eyes.
Let sanity flee from your mind.
(That's OK.Never mind.
Angels are never meant
For sane minds)

Coming your way...

Prepare to talk to her
Practise how to greet her
Whisper to yourself a greeting
Whose sweetness tricks 
Your zygomaticus muscle 
Into a seductive smile.
Then bite your lower lip alluringly
As the best Romeo and Juliet scene
Overwhelms the whole of you.
Enjoy the roller-coaster feeling
Of a heart that forgets its own rhythm.

A few minutes away...

To get on top of your muddled up feelings
And wake up the confidence demon
Wave your head in a 'NO' manner.
Grab a gorgeous gazale gaze of her.
Don't allow the jealous of a blink
To spoil this monumental moment.
Sink your nervousness deep
Inside the well of sighs.
Cast a blind eye on the people's eyes
Or acknowledge them as your cheerleaders.

It's about time...

Breathe in. 
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Elevate your hands like a clergyman in prayer
Just to inspect the odour of your exhaled air
That will transport your practiced greeting.
Regulate your lungs to spray your Rose
With nothing but the fragrance of roses.

It's time now...

Exactly when she gets near
Cockily say, 'Good morning, Madam.'
Immediately after the words  slip 
Away from the tip of your lip,
Remember that, 'Afternoon'
Is almost embarking on her sleep
And that the Madam title is ...
Cover your mouth instantly
As if trying to capture back the awakward greeting
Fancy the way she disguises
Her guffaws as a smile-
Revealing her pretty dimples
Concealed in the soft flesh of her cheeks

Almost...

Observe her as she catwalks it away
Leaving you dumbstricken all the way
Listen until her footsteps die away
Start scratching your backhead right away 
Wondering which spell she used
To transmute your 'Hey Pretty Lady'
Into a 'Good morning, Madam'  
During such perceivable old noon hours!
Blame yourself the whole day.
Tighten your fist like Muhammad Ali
Preparing to release his Sunday punch.
Then with a suppressed sigh sadly say:
TOMORROW will be a better day!

Tomorrow...

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

The Prayer of An Albino

Though in motion 
 Just like them
 I am just a potion 
 To be mixed with a stem
 To be concocted into some lotion
 To cure their poverty problem

I am an albino
 A PERSON with albinism
 I am not a stray rhino
 I have a HUMAN mechanism
 I am NOT evil
 Neither a charm for Satanism

Now my soul is a refugee
In my own insecure body
My government is like a bribed referee
Who enjoys the parts of my body
Being chopped off like a worthless tree
For greedy reporters to have a story

God of resurrection,
How will I resurrect?
When my head is in Liwonde
My two eyes are in Chiponde
And my remains that were buried in Lilongwe
Are being wolfed down in Mitole?

Since my death is not a serious case
God, was my birth a curse?
Why didn't you let me die in the hands of the nurse?
Now that my world has completely turned worse,
When my innocent life gets snatched from me like a purse
Would you kindly open your heavens widely for my soul to rest?
!

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

Ramadan

RAMADAN

Gone is ?????
Here's the month of ?????
The month of ?????
The month of ?????
We become ?????
We feel ?????
But never ?????
We worship with ?????
We hear ????
Soothing to our ????
We hear ????
And wish that ??????
Was for every ?????
Muslims in every ????
Are proud of ??????
For it is among the ?????
Of this beautiful ?????
Have a blessed ?????

@Clempoetry

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

What I Want You To Be

I am just a tree
So be my taproot
Not leaves that fall
When seasons shoot
Their bullets of fall

I am just a man
So be my life
Not a wife that flees
When things strike
Like stings of bees

I am just a wife
So be my husband
Not a man that frowns
When marriage lands
On some ups and downs

I am just a car
So be my steering wheel
Not tyres that roll
At maximum speed
Obliviously to their goal

I am just a country
So be my patriot
Not a tourist that comes
And turns into Judas Iscariot
When darkness storms

I am just a night
So be my twinkling star
Not a gloomy cloud
That mars me with scars
And disowns a clown

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

Invaluable Advice

Dear Son,

As you read this letter
I believe you are fully fledged
And perhaps you have already selected
A straight soulmate among your flying flock
I know my absence's had your heart brimming with rage
May your rage wither as you turn over the pages
That have witnessed your life stages
And tirelessly waited for you for ages
Here is my invaluable advice:

To be a champion
You must become a chameleon
To adapt to this inconsistent world

To be a loser
You must turn a blind eye
To your own weaknesses that make you so

To achieve some goals
You must turn into a rifle
To reach the ever-shifting distant targets

To win a marathon
You have to take baby steps
Then overwhelm your limitations

To be successful
You must learn from FAILURE
What success will never teach you


To be an influential leader
You must be a loyal follower
And become the change you wish to see

To be a good father
A son has to find in his father
The true meaning of love and affection

To be genius
Is to perpetually practice with strong will
To thoroughly master a skill

To be educated
You need no university credentials
But knowledge to be put to use

To be rich,
The Richest Man in Babylon said,
"Learn to live upon less than your earnings"


To be wealthy,
The Stoics say,
"You must learn to limit your desires!"

To take control of your time
Brush off the 24-hour illusion
Make use of the guaranteed 'NOW'

To better understand life
Never seek its sacred meaning farther
Than in the preordained death  

To master this letter
I beg you, my dear son,
Mutate into a parrot and thank me later


Your loving Dad,

Clement Ahmed Chipande

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

Suicide

A paper
A pen
A rope
A stool
An anchor

Write your last
Heart wrenching sword-like words
Wishing their impression will last
When your existence becomes the past
Ignoring the pounding of your heart
Due to the terror about to happen
(It has never imagined 7 minutes without a thump)



Go peer through your window
Search for any smallest signs of hope
What a gloomy surrounding stares back at you!
Curse the sacred life cycle
For the one way ticket offered at birth
Chromatography of body & soul being death
You never understand that patience 
Has the ultimate power to negotiate
With both direction and path of fate

When...
You go over the notes on the paper,
Sadly rest your pen on it,
Ascend the stool,
Firmly fix the rope on the anchor,
Tie the rope into a noose,
Get it round your neck,
Take a deep sigh, thinking
It will defy the agony of death
Then suspend yourself in the air
That exact moment
You wish you had wide wings
You wish your neck was a razor blade
You wish you had darted your short-sighted eyes
Just a bit past the sour surrounding
For every strong storm paves a way for a cool calm!

But now...
You are a MURDERER
A murderer of you own spotless soul
Your soul will NEVER rest in peace
ETERNAL inferno awaits you!

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

Bartered

BARTERED
By:Clement A. Chipande

I knew I was surrounded by inhumane perverts
I guarded my innocence with my entire sincere heart
I rebuffed snitchy men for fear it might get hurt
I sniffed every compliment for a stench of flirt
I did this for the dignity of what lied under my skirt
I focused on my daring dream to become a law expert
I knew it in my bones that I did my needful part

I was introduced by my father to a man
I was too young to grasp what he had done
I was forced to leave my parents' house
I was bartered away for two cows
I was bewildered by two 'Hows'
How could my own father have my bright future slain?
How could two cows outvalue a mother's nine months of pain?

I became pregnant before I even saw my first moon
I became a mother before I giggled like a grown girl
I bore a baby girl before I even got rid of my juvenile dolls
After expriencing the near-death agony of giving birth
I doubted if it was Mum who introduced me to Earth
I swore to always fight for my daughter till death

I waited for darkness to shower
I wrapped my baby in a shawl
I escaped cautiously to the shore
I prayed hard for Moses's miracle to manifest
Instead, I was grabbed by gangs in a rape contest
I knew, to most of them, I was the first

I was tortured
I was injured
I was bullied
I was humiliated
Hadn't they covered up my mouth,
Hadn't I been too busy with the terror in my baby's eyes,
I would have told them that
The monster I was first introduced to by my father
Hadn't only turned me into a premature mother
He had also made me embark on life extenders

Alas! Dear fate,
Had you only glanced at me with your right eye,
I wouldn't have been BARTERED off!

Facebook@Clempoetry
YouTube@Clempoetry

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

Coronavirus

I hear
A weeping quarantined widow
I peer
Through my sealed window
I fear
The unattended corpse below
A tear
Slips out in limbo  
The atmosphere 
Hurling my emotions akimbo
This year
Death’s started to winnow!

My career?
The lockdown let it go
I’m now a cashier
With no cash flow
A spear
Deprived of a throw
It’s clear
The life you know 
My dear
Can deteriorate into zero
Be Mr.  Shakespeare
Or just a bimbo

Oh dear son,
Wonder where’s science?
Science sense
Has fled into a maze of inexistence
But pray and have confidence
In this social distance
It’s a mutual response
To this traumatic circumstance

Of course I miss you
More than you do kiddo
But still when I’m near
Give your cuddle to your pillow
If we don’t make it this year
At least we’ll be called heroes
By generation that will survive
This remorseless woe

Details | Clement Chipande Poem

African Woman

Like a Black Tulip
Her distinctive dark skin
Outshines a host of angels
And her soft, lovely lips
Dressed up with sweet sweat
From her heroic tiredness
Cure my tormented heart
When they quiver
As the ‘I love you' words
Amble on her truthful tongue
And then slip
Incessantly into feelings
Feelings unquenchable 
Feelings indescribable
Feelings irresistible