i wrote this poem in 2008, and when i wrote it i was so troubled with Mugabe such that even seeing his image on the television was haunting. it was that time when things were unbelievably difficult for Zimbabweans, this poem is part of my collection of poems, VOICES FROM EXILE, that will be published in Ireland, by Lapwing poetry in August---enough of this, please have a loook at the piece and comment, or even pass it on
A WAR MEMORIAL FOR MUGABE
He never touched a gun.
Not even in Mozambique.
He never died in a battle.
Or liberated a prison camp.
He fought the war of leadership.
Killing rivalries-
Chitepo and Tongogara
Are still unclaimed.
He fought with the generals-
Of great respect, short mind.
He fought every adjacent difference.
And the masses he longed for,
But never understanding them,
Despised them.
He fought his own wars-
And there is no medal-
Nor a memorial for such brutalities.
There is not even a suitable court to try him.
How could a single man wipe out millions?
In and outside his country.
And gorge thousands in daylight,
For over three decades-
Whilst the whole world keeps mum.
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I find this powerful. And I think you have chosen the right style. Some things can only be said baldly and directly, because they are so huge in themselves that they need no more emotional impact; it's already there in the facts.
ReplyDeletethanks Rosemary. i am glad you like it
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