Reuters photo
By
Elizabeth Patience Semende
the night after the solidarity march in Zimbabwe
on nights like this
i admire the way wine changes with age
it is no surprise when voices confined
in bottles that ceased to be bodies get louder by day
in our cellar
one bottle pops
another follows
and that is freedom
on the kitchen table my brother bursts into song
my sister too. but father laughs
and we are not surprised
how laughter can carry a man’s pain for years
a prayer erupts from mother’s lips:
“God bless the food”
and our memories are resurrected –
of nights we were rocked to sleep
by the music of our empty bellies.
the day Itai disappeared and we planted silence on our lips
mother gets the wine
and it’s bitter
one sip strangles the tongue but freedom is like that
what stories can a slave tell without opening his bag of wounds?
the day we killed father and forgot to cry
here in the belly of America the milk and honey flows
but home is an old man learning how to fly
in my father’s home we were fragments of blind dreams
seeking graves to hide in
what else can an old man do besides frying dreams
as bad memories in the furnace of our crumbling history
forgive us old man we had to kill you
our fists like middle fingers grace the air
our songs travel like rivers learning to flow uphill
this is how we learnt to climb into strange women’s? wombs
forging homes and wait for the day they’ll decide to spit us
here we are as rain that splatters in unwanted places
their children throw flames and we are burning
we burnt in South Africa,
and America does not want us
forgive us old man we had to kill you
a mother’s voice is a pilgrim journeying into many countries
searching for her children
we carry the burden of telephones that shelter
glimpses of our erased past
you stood there ruling
but all we saw was a stephen carrying the gospel of a foreign god
forgive us old man we had to kill you
Elizabeth Patience Semende
Elizabeth Patience Semende is a poet and culture activist living in Zimbabwe where she spends time loving her partner and writing poetry during her spare time. Her poems have been anthologised in print in Zimbabwe and online. Some of her poems have appeared in Kalahari Review, Brittle Paper and elsewhere.
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