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Muchimba Kabeta Poem
Children of mine, I have little left to say
My bones are now the softest porcelain and my back is bent the wrong way
The eclipse of age has turned my black mane grey and the gaps wider in my yesterday
Children, Look away from the sun and keep your hand at the level of our eye
See the sun, she is a most seductive mistress
She will feed your deepest, your darkest desires till your eyes they bleed, your lungs they burn and your heart has turned to stone
She will build you palaces of emerald, raise you cities of gold, but look away, remember what I have told
Away with your emerald robes, cast aside your pride plated crowns
Reign in that viper living in your throat, for her destruction far pales her construction
Children of this age, the kings and queens of freedom, you questioners of authority
HEEL and listen to this old man’s squawk
My back isn’t bent from my age that has grown old, but from the heavy crowns I have worn
My skin, see this skin is marred by the memories of yesterday..what you'll call wrinkles
And my teeth, see some of my teeth are absent by the approximation of fists to the viscous snake that my tongue used to be
HEEL young volcanos, water down your fires
You did not build this palace and it shall spell the end of many after you
HEEL young kings and queens of the sun, for the night approaches
And at midnight, when our mother soil gives you her final embrace, taking you 6 feet beneath her belly, your Cinderella facade will finally..fade
Copyright © Muchimba Kabeta | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Muchimba Kabeta Poem
Dear friend,
My betrayal is sticking out of you
I left it in your upper back at dawns crack
Its steel is moulded from 30 pieces of silver and a treacherous kiss
I swear it was not premeditated, a moments stir more like
We had always just been aquaintances, she and I
Our longest conversation, a 1 second hello or goodbye
No lingering stare, no mistaken touch
Barbed Fences held high, she was after all the apple of your eye
See, the amputation of the arms of our brotherhood was not the aim of this dalliance
If wishes were horses I’d ride back to yesterday
To the club where she and I shared ‘hellos’ and ‘how do you do’s’
To that place where the rivers of whisky drowned all statutes of right and wrong
To that crack in time where the silver viper in my throat sang a dethrobbing song
At least then I’d erase that morning where I woke up with her mistake in my bed
That morning where my first thought was…….OH GOD!!
Copyright © Muchimba Kabeta | Year Posted 2017
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