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Best Poems Written by Victor Mufaro Dzaoma

Below are the all-time best Victor Mufaro Dzaoma poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

A Comedy In History

Never forgetting those loud voices 
Voices acting as the vehicles of historical antimonies
Antimonies which in themselves are testimonies of ideological betrayal
These conflicting mirages of imagination
Divorcing the empirical from the theoretical
And shouts from the Actions.

Abreast the crest of rejected African egos,
Egos which perhaps are the ‘ethos’ of a ‘timeless’
Pan-Africanism.
An Africanism whose essence has now been,
Destroyed by this phase of 
Nihilism.

These self –appointed
Medians of history
Medians fancying themselves as the only mediums of
The historical message,
A message whose true medium is that which
Reaches the ordinary man struck by poverty.
Are indeed medians in as much as they are comedians,
In a comedy whose true heroes are dead.

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

End Time Message

At this omega of ill-fetted volitions 
where the concrete-embeded poster reads "EXIT"
you watch with amusement the logical end 
of ideological perversion
bemused by the grunts of kings vommitted by history
a history of misery

In this, my date with fate
as an inspired spectator i ignore the values a society disguise itself in 
and read the writings on the wall
about disjointed limps and fractured souls
about abused women and misused slogans
about useless ballots and useful bullets
about persecuted students and deffered freedom
about the death of peace
and as such our long awaited kiss 
on the lips of the King's corpse.

By the concrete poster
the wretched stands awestruck
waving their broken limps,
thus penning the last line in this history of what never happened.
the writing is on the wall
"mene mene tekela upasini"
umambo hwako hwapera

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Kissing Satan

In the shadows of an African flora 
embracing my title as a mercenary
a title with little content except the smoke fumes
from illegalised seeds
the red-hot point defining 
intervals of mental genocide
and the false bravado from fired wits.

Patting the enticing behinds 
of hypnotized beasts,
beasts with bracelets that jingle
in the rhythm to the tangle of the jungle
This jungle the vast platform for emotional motions
motions whose basic notion 
is the vigilant search for death
and when found bought by the highest bidder.

Other losing bidders joining the swim in lake 'CHATEAU',
and from its coolness gaining 
a semblance of better days.
mirages of imagination,
the illusory images of reality
and in this sub-conscious existence
all aimed at the gates of HELL

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Harboured Emotions

This revealed 
apocalypse
Bringing extirpation 
of cherished tenets
And arguments 
that freezes 
nerves of the
Hesitant warriors
Warriors already 
disciplined by 
multiple losses,
Losses that could 
perhaps continue in 
this renewed phase
Phase whose pace 
of motion tortures 
my emotions
With this pace, 
tomorrow might be 
my death –day
While yesterday 
was my birthday
And honestly, 
 
What is the 
difference?
If the difference is 
not the same.

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Absolutisation

words that drift over unconscious bodies
bodies spread over deserted cities
signifying the big dents beside the targeted marks
marks swallowed by irresponsible sharks

a confidence that steals intellect and reason 
a confidence glorified by the applause of hypnotized beasts
beasts in feasts yet a confidence in starvation

mythical assertions of heights impossible as possible
and in the temporary warmth shouting even louder
louder and harder in itself 
a depiction of an arrogance that is repugnant

this recourse to incessant theory robes practice of its essence 
giving practice the cateblanche to re-assert itself forcefully 
on a higher platform
where this stupid arrogance is deemed obsolete

these dogmas reflect an epoch already passed 
and their re-instatement in this epoch 
reduces the value of our history

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

This Is Not a Poem

These are scars 
within my heart 
And tearless ducts 
on a face devoid of 
expression.
It is an obsolete 
manual in ancient 
hands,
Hands embracing 
the bends of a 
twisted reality
A reality no longer 
conforming to the 
commands
 Of an obsolete 
manual.
These commands 
logged off
Seek to amend 
deeds undone by 
the emotional 
impasse.
I am an agitated 
spectator of an 
awkward circus
Circus amidst this 
fracas of 
redeemed souls
Souls sold low by
The dollar value
Dollar love
Dollar worship!

I am a brother of a 
brother whose 
brother
Never stopped 
loving
The lovely cocoons 
of imitation.
Imitation without 
reciprocal 
comprehension of 
the concepts
The heart bit of 
earth centralized,
Till originality is 
taxed by an 
imitated formulae,
Formulae which 
rejoice in the 
rejection of the 
vernacular
When dawn comes,
We will already be 
down.

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Harboured Emotions

This revealed apocalypse
Bringing extirpation of cherished tenets
And arguments that freezes nerves of the
Hesitant warriors
Warriors already disciplined by multiple losses,
Losses that could perhaps continue in this renewed phase
Phase whose pace of motion tortures my emotions
With this pace, tomorrow might be my death –day
While yesterday was my birthday
And honestly, 
 
What is the difference?
If the difference is not the same.

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Absolutisation

words that drift over unconscious bodies
bodies spread over deserted cities
signifying the big dents beside the targeted marks
marks swallowed by irresponsible sharks

a confidence that steals intellect and reason 
a confidence glorified by the applause of hypnotized beasts
beasts in feasts yet a confidence in starvation

mythical assertions of heights impossible as possible
and in the temporary warmth shouting even louder
louder and harder in itself 
a depiction of an arrogance that is repugnant

this recourse to incessant theory robes practice of its essence 
giving practice the cateblanche to re-assert itself forcefully 
on a higher platform
where this stupid arrogance is deemed obsolete

these dogmas reflect an epoch already passed 
and their re-instatement in this epoch 
reduces the value of our history

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Above and Below

Where I am is a platform
Below me is soil, a block of concrete and a flower
Above me is the roof
And a window that opens to all above me
Far high that my hopes are hopeless
A glimpse below reveals
Faces of various phases of defeat,
Faces which see nothing below, yet a myriad above
Above where I am and
Above, above where I am.
Constant drops of dirty water to the flower bed below
Keeps the flower blooming
And blooming keeps them hoping
Yet those above me are fidgeting over the dilemma
Of many empty drums.

Details | Victor Mufaro Dzaoma Poem

Revival

There was a hint 
To the world of eclipsed means,
Means tied up by ropes prone to blasphemy
So we ignored it.

There is now a mystical
Image of hellish heaven
A heaven whose songs are the wrongs of
Hardened souls.

A closer look reveals
This holy essence of “Mortal Magnetism”
No wonder why we
Seek now, of all times
Revival!