Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Men & Alcohol

Enlarge poem

men are much like alcohol
some leave only a bitter after taste in your mouth but without any long term effects. some are a little more devastating. they relieve you of your senses, temporarily. only to wake up drowning in self-loathing, that hangover of the soul, a souvenir of a near death experienced barely survived.

if such a man is not speedily discarded however,
he will eventually be the death of you. he infects your soul with a slow and agonizing terminal illness similar to the liver cirrhosis one gets from excess alcohol consumption except this is the death of the soul.

he slyly stabs at your self confidence
resulting in the steady seepage of your person, drip drip drip. the leaking of your essence into the hundred and one other men in whom you will seek to find wholeness again. ironically it is in these rebound affairs we’re lost entirely, where personality dissolves like salt in hot water which is visually imperceptible but the bitterness is unmistakable upon taste.

yet some men are like a tall glass of red wine
mature, refined, full bodied. one small dose of him relaxes body and mind, making you want to kick off your shoes, lower your head into the centre of his sturdy chest
and drift into a peaceful slumber as you listen to the steady beat of a sincere heart.

i waited at many a bar for a tall, crimson drink
sipping on virgin daiquiris until I whiffed a glass from heaven’s vine. i recognised him immediately. a glass of red looks, smells and tastes like a glass of red, it’s never complicated. A Jack on the rocks will never appear or feel like a tall glass of red wine
unless you’ve had way too much to drink.

© Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet

Charity Hutete

Featured Poem:

Raking Leaves

Enlarge poem

today we’ll rake again, all of us
around the base of a tree which bears fruit
only on its highest branch
we’ll scrape beneath a scorching sun
that penetrates barren branches and scathed scalps
a people which suffer no other seasons but the fall
for the leaves fall, and they fall and they’ll fall

there’ll be no pips between our teeth
or trophy aches at day end, just dried leaves
so we’ll build all manner of castle with peat
it’s really no wonder we mourn excessively when we bury
just then, we question the blisters and arched backs
and we recall the mocking bird nestled at the tree top
daily singing as if to taunt wasted efforts
toil which occupies our everyday
but affords no gain for the next
inheritance, a legend from eternity past

but soon we jilt wit for belly, each to his tool
with tots and tunes to fill hollow dream chambers
once home to youthful desires
we rake, amassing dried leaves
no sooner are they gathered
than are they blown away by the slightest wind
so we’ll rake in perpetuity
until the rake depletes our strength
and the spade burrows a mouth in the earth
for the tree to make meal our shrivelled remains
we then are dried leaves too, leaves for the raking
and those who remain will mourn excessively as we’re laid
just then, they’ll abhor the blisters and arched backs
till dusk, when tomorrow beckons today
and today, today we’ll rake again

Charity Hutete 1

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (1)
  • Pride (1)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (1)
  • Delight (3)
  • Inspiration (1)
  • Reflection (5)
  • Captivation (1)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (2)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (1)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

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Biography

Zimbabwe’s Charity Hutete is a dynamic page and performance poet whose written work has been described as ‘a layered feast’. Her innovative use of words infused with the alluring harmonic refrains that often accompany her acts always result in tasteful, culturally rich and thought provoking entertainment. Charity’s poetry is characterized by rich allegories which interrogate vast social realties earning her the nick-name ‘aCuriousPoet’. She has exhibited her work at several international festivals in Zimbabwe, Botswana and Norway.

“I would describe myself as a lover of life and words. My art speaks my truth expressed in witty words and alluring rhythms. Always worth a listen” Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet, 2014

Charity Hutete

Charity Hutete 1
Charity Hutete 1

Biography

Zimbabwe’s Charity Hutete is a dynamic page and performance poet whose written work has been described as ‘a layered feast’. Her innovative use of words infused with the alluring harmonic refrains that often accompany her acts always result in tasteful, culturally rich and thought provoking entertainment. Charity’s poetry is characterized by rich allegories which interrogate vast social realties earning her the nick-name ‘aCuriousPoet’. She has exhibited her work at several international festivals in Zimbabwe, Botswana and Norway.

“I would describe myself as a lover of life and words. My art speaks my truth expressed in witty words and alluring rhythms. Always worth a listen” Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet, 2014

Men & Alcohol

Enlarge poem

men are much like alcohol
some leave only a bitter after taste in your mouth but without any long term effects. some are a little more devastating. they relieve you of your senses, temporarily. only to wake up drowning in self-loathing, that hangover of the soul, a souvenir of a near death experienced barely survived.

if such a man is not speedily discarded however,
he will eventually be the death of you. he infects your soul with a slow and agonizing terminal illness similar to the liver cirrhosis one gets from excess alcohol consumption except this is the death of the soul.

he slyly stabs at your self confidence
resulting in the steady seepage of your person, drip drip drip. the leaking of your essence into the hundred and one other men in whom you will seek to find wholeness again. ironically it is in these rebound affairs we’re lost entirely, where personality dissolves like salt in hot water which is visually imperceptible but the bitterness is unmistakable upon taste.

yet some men are like a tall glass of red wine
mature, refined, full bodied. one small dose of him relaxes body and mind, making you want to kick off your shoes, lower your head into the centre of his sturdy chest
and drift into a peaceful slumber as you listen to the steady beat of a sincere heart.

i waited at many a bar for a tall, crimson drink
sipping on virgin daiquiris until I whiffed a glass from heaven’s vine. i recognised him immediately. a glass of red looks, smells and tastes like a glass of red, it’s never complicated. A Jack on the rocks will never appear or feel like a tall glass of red wine
unless you’ve had way too much to drink.

© Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet

Featured Poem:

Raking Leaves

Enlarge poem

today we’ll rake again, all of us
around the base of a tree which bears fruit
only on its highest branch
we’ll scrape beneath a scorching sun
that penetrates barren branches and scathed scalps
a people which suffer no other seasons but the fall
for the leaves fall, and they fall and they’ll fall

there’ll be no pips between our teeth
or trophy aches at day end, just dried leaves
so we’ll build all manner of castle with peat
it’s really no wonder we mourn excessively when we bury
just then, we question the blisters and arched backs
and we recall the mocking bird nestled at the tree top
daily singing as if to taunt wasted efforts
toil which occupies our everyday
but affords no gain for the next
inheritance, a legend from eternity past

but soon we jilt wit for belly, each to his tool
with tots and tunes to fill hollow dream chambers
once home to youthful desires
we rake, amassing dried leaves
no sooner are they gathered
than are they blown away by the slightest wind
so we’ll rake in perpetuity
until the rake depletes our strength
and the spade burrows a mouth in the earth
for the tree to make meal our shrivelled remains
we then are dried leaves too, leaves for the raking
and those who remain will mourn excessively as we’re laid
just then, they’ll abhor the blisters and arched backs
till dusk, when tomorrow beckons today
and today, today we’ll rake again

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (1)
  • Pride (1)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (1)
  • Delight (3)
  • Inspiration (1)
  • Reflection (5)
  • Captivation (1)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (2)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (1)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Men & Alcohol

Enlarge poem

men are much like alcohol
some leave only a bitter after taste in your mouth but without any long term effects. some are a little more devastating. they relieve you of your senses, temporarily. only to wake up drowning in self-loathing, that hangover of the soul, a souvenir of a near death experienced barely survived.

if such a man is not speedily discarded however,
he will eventually be the death of you. he infects your soul with a slow and agonizing terminal illness similar to the liver cirrhosis one gets from excess alcohol consumption except this is the death of the soul.

he slyly stabs at your self confidence
resulting in the steady seepage of your person, drip drip drip. the leaking of your essence into the hundred and one other men in whom you will seek to find wholeness again. ironically it is in these rebound affairs we’re lost entirely, where personality dissolves like salt in hot water which is visually imperceptible but the bitterness is unmistakable upon taste.

yet some men are like a tall glass of red wine
mature, refined, full bodied. one small dose of him relaxes body and mind, making you want to kick off your shoes, lower your head into the centre of his sturdy chest
and drift into a peaceful slumber as you listen to the steady beat of a sincere heart.

i waited at many a bar for a tall, crimson drink
sipping on virgin daiquiris until I whiffed a glass from heaven’s vine. i recognised him immediately. a glass of red looks, smells and tastes like a glass of red, it’s never complicated. A Jack on the rocks will never appear or feel like a tall glass of red wine
unless you’ve had way too much to drink.

© Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet

Comments

Your email address will not be published.