Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

She is

Enlarge poem

She is a storyteller
With no ink
To tell the stories
sealed
Into walls too paper thin
To heal the wounds
from
sores
Keeping the thread
From reaching the end
Putting a full stop
In the middle of a sigh, a moan
A drama we all like to star in now and then
She is a raving wind
blowing the mind
Into tiny little pieces
falling upon
Ears cottonwooled
Burn from the sulphur
A devil has whispered
Into these minds
listening to rhymes
not hearing the reason
We canít dance to reason
We canít move to reason
We canít listen to reason
To the rhymes
They make a mecca
blood flowing
Is a cocktail of
Styles that
She the storyteller
Has made up in her mind
Rhymes she has felt
As she walks along
Walls that keep their stories
Only to tell her who without ink
Cannot write with glee
Her graffiti upon his story,
To make her story come true.
She is a story teller with no ink
Let her speak
Let her live.

Elizabeth “Zaza” Muchemwa

Featured Poem:

Delivery

Enlarge poem

The poetic deliverance
Is what I seek to give
Not the words from my mouth
But the breath that I live on
Touch my heart, my soul
You will find God’s essence
Stuttering on the words of I and I
There is no doubt in my mind
Suffering malnutrition, ignorance , indecision, starvation is not the way
But our future is not rooted in
Silver and gold either
Neither is it in them
Fighting oppression suppressing
Borrowing from one language
Tongues in which we lose our diction
And celebrate the distinction of being one mass
I blaspheme because I don’t know
Any other way to celebrate this
This one on one I have been having
With the spirit
Making me feel safe to call
Myself HIM; HER; THEM; YOU
As I deliver this speech
Embedded in a skill filled
With the fluency of my impulses
Saying no to this
Hate
Filling this speech
Meant for this crowd
That crowd
That rally
That congregation
That cyberspace

A poetic deliverance is
What I seek to give
Not the words from my mouth
But the
Words coming from within.

Muchemwa E.R.S July 2012

zaza new

How does this featured poem make you feel?

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

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Biography

Elizabeth is a dynamic and energetic performance poet, short story writer and theatre director. From 2006 to present day Elizabeth has performed her poetry on various stages and at various events in and out of Harare, Zimbabwe. Elizabeth’s short story Positive Death was published in The Zimbabwe Women Writers’ Magazine in 2006.

She also wrote an article entitled Telling our Stories and Perspectives in early 2010 which was on Pepeta blog and was later on published in a MISA-Zimbabwe Magazine called Women Speak. Her short story Radio Culture Is Dead was short listed in the Intwasa Short story competition for the year 2011.

In march 2008 Elizabeth got an opportunity to be part of the cast for a HIFA-DIRECT production Silent Words and from then on the theatre bug had caught, seeing Elizabeth assisting on a production in 2009 and directing two productions in 2010 namely Just Papers and Wedding Day. In 2011 she also took part in the HIFA-DIRECT program as an assistant director for Colours of Dreams. She went on to co-direct a play Miss Julie in June 2012 and also assist in the direction of The Father as part of the August Strindberg project which is carried out by Global Arts Trust and Complete Arts Project.

Elizabeth believes that it is important to know one self, to accept one’s history, the past and the present in this quest for shaping the future.

Elizabeth “Zaza” Muchemwa

zaza new
zaza new

Biography

Elizabeth is a dynamic and energetic performance poet, short story writer and theatre director. From 2006 to present day Elizabeth has performed her poetry on various stages and at various events in and out of Harare, Zimbabwe. Elizabeth’s short story Positive Death was published in The Zimbabwe Women Writers’ Magazine in 2006.

She also wrote an article entitled Telling our Stories and Perspectives in early 2010 which was on Pepeta blog and was later on published in a MISA-Zimbabwe Magazine called Women Speak. Her short story Radio Culture Is Dead was short listed in the Intwasa Short story competition for the year 2011.

In march 2008 Elizabeth got an opportunity to be part of the cast for a HIFA-DIRECT production Silent Words and from then on the theatre bug had caught, seeing Elizabeth assisting on a production in 2009 and directing two productions in 2010 namely Just Papers and Wedding Day. In 2011 she also took part in the HIFA-DIRECT program as an assistant director for Colours of Dreams. She went on to co-direct a play Miss Julie in June 2012 and also assist in the direction of The Father as part of the August Strindberg project which is carried out by Global Arts Trust and Complete Arts Project.

Elizabeth believes that it is important to know one self, to accept one’s history, the past and the present in this quest for shaping the future.

She is

Enlarge poem

She is a storyteller
With no ink
To tell the stories
sealed
Into walls too paper thin
To heal the wounds
from
sores
Keeping the thread
From reaching the end
Putting a full stop
In the middle of a sigh, a moan
A drama we all like to star in now and then
She is a raving wind
blowing the mind
Into tiny little pieces
falling upon
Ears cottonwooled
Burn from the sulphur
A devil has whispered
Into these minds
listening to rhymes
not hearing the reason
We canít dance to reason
We canít move to reason
We canít listen to reason
To the rhymes
They make a mecca
blood flowing
Is a cocktail of
Styles that
She the storyteller
Has made up in her mind
Rhymes she has felt
As she walks along
Walls that keep their stories
Only to tell her who without ink
Cannot write with glee
Her graffiti upon his story,
To make her story come true.
She is a story teller with no ink
Let her speak
Let her live.

Featured Poem:

Delivery

Enlarge poem

The poetic deliverance
Is what I seek to give
Not the words from my mouth
But the breath that I live on
Touch my heart, my soul
You will find God’s essence
Stuttering on the words of I and I
There is no doubt in my mind
Suffering malnutrition, ignorance , indecision, starvation is not the way
But our future is not rooted in
Silver and gold either
Neither is it in them
Fighting oppression suppressing
Borrowing from one language
Tongues in which we lose our diction
And celebrate the distinction of being one mass
I blaspheme because I don’t know
Any other way to celebrate this
This one on one I have been having
With the spirit
Making me feel safe to call
Myself HIM; HER; THEM; YOU
As I deliver this speech
Embedded in a skill filled
With the fluency of my impulses
Saying no to this
Hate
Filling this speech
Meant for this crowd
That crowd
That rally
That congregation
That cyberspace

A poetic deliverance is
What I seek to give
Not the words from my mouth
But the
Words coming from within.

Muchemwa E.R.S July 2012

How does this featured poem make you feel?

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

She is

Enlarge poem

She is a storyteller
With no ink
To tell the stories
sealed
Into walls too paper thin
To heal the wounds
from
sores
Keeping the thread
From reaching the end
Putting a full stop
In the middle of a sigh, a moan
A drama we all like to star in now and then
She is a raving wind
blowing the mind
Into tiny little pieces
falling upon
Ears cottonwooled
Burn from the sulphur
A devil has whispered
Into these minds
listening to rhymes
not hearing the reason
We canít dance to reason
We canít move to reason
We canít listen to reason
To the rhymes
They make a mecca
blood flowing
Is a cocktail of
Styles that
She the storyteller
Has made up in her mind
Rhymes she has felt
As she walks along
Walls that keep their stories
Only to tell her who without ink
Cannot write with glee
Her graffiti upon his story,
To make her story come true.
She is a story teller with no ink
Let her speak
Let her live.

Comments

Your email address will not be published.