
As we continue to promote Poetry in Zambia ; here are this weeks poems ,enjoy.
live show this Saturday at La Gondola Arcades. 19:00, K30 000 entrance free snacks available.
DEAR Mr PRESIDENT, by Mutale Mwamba

I came back to this country, a graduate, you offered me nothing but unemployment.
While you employed the corrupt and illiterate.
Time and again you said “diaspora come back home”.
I don’t care, MMD or PF government, all i want is basic services.
All i want is food water and electricity,
not all this nonesense of “more money in your pockets” while you subject me to poverty.
I have the money to pay my bills but then you deny me basic services.
Cutting off water, and all this loadshading, causing blackouts.
I am not an idiot, more money in your pockets? Is that the best you can do, how about, bonds, equity savings and investments,
Mr. President what are you doing in government.
The mobile networks are a joke, Airtel is a mess and soon MTN will be worse.
Zamtel, don’t even get me started, you sell, and then you reverse.. But the basic services still fell to impress.
The police useless and corrupt, issueing a police report with no reciept, just a simple piece of paper with a simple date stamp, easily photocopied and duplicated, yes with
MTN requiring a police report for sim replacement, the police can now print Money.
Just photocopy the report and don’t issue a receipt.
Motorists paying road tax, but do they get discounts for all the potholes?
This country is becoming a joke, we are still talking about simple roads, building schools when are we going to talk about research and development that kind of progress?
Mr. President, please tell me in a single sentence, what are you doing in government?
I am tired of mere rhetoric, promises upon empty promises. What is the government doing when an employer can get away without paying what is due to me to collect.
Here is an idea Mr. President dissolve parliament, infact the entire government, and simply let anarchy prevail, survival of the fittest, many of your ministers won’t last.
Dear Mr. President, make this your prayer.
“I pray Michael Mutale will go to church every Sunday, and pray everyday”.
Yes it is only my own conscious that keeps my intellect at bay, but if this nation and your governemnt keep frustrating me, i will be forced to unleash my intellect upon this state, to bring it to it’s knees, that is, i’ll lock all the doors, with i alone holding the keys.
Yes that is how a villain is born, Mr. President
When you irritate and frustrate the wrong person, and they decide to unleash upon you, their intellect.
Signed Not by Anonymous but by
Mutale Mwamba
WHAT SHE SAID by Leila K’ano

Cold winds blow past graves
She sits on them and these winds she inhales
There is no sun, neither moon nor stars
But there is life where she is, she inhales
Its of winds like these! She says;
Live Life, Live Fast, Live Hard, Live Long
Soon they will be around to take you, those that take souls
They go wherever the wind goes
They go wherever the wind blows
There’s is no sun, neither moon nor stars
But there is life, where she is, she inhales
But no breath is enough to bring back life to that which darkness embraces
Its of days like these! She says;
The cold winds will blow us waves, we too will steady our sails
Carry On, Be Strong, Bear All
Soon the sun will be around to melt away the darkness
Soon the sun will be around to melt away the sadness
SHADOW PATHS by Kapembwa Wanjelani

I walk a path many fear to,
Tales of it hard but still I chose to,
Restlessly morphing into the perfect Key, That would set in to set free
My eyes that I may see, The person that’s hidden deep within me.
This path just hides me more,
Pushing me back, that I become King, But just for show,
A motionless wind that serves no purpose,
That a Scorpion sting
be the only thing
that may bring
about a ring
as the toxin…
sips into my veins to sing.
Another reality steps in,
As the bubble… continues to rot from within.
I could stay here, seriously I could,
With my mind care free, all my decisions I would woo
Raise my hand to rule, from the fool to the tycoon.
Deliberately become rude, cause everything I want I will do.
I will…
Shoo you,
Stop you.
Clap two,
Am full.
Pass through,
Love True.
Conclude,
Then sue you.
No Clue?
I will crush you.
Get you,
Asking for permission to use the loo.
See… This path just hides me more,
Pushing me back, that I become King but just for show.
So I put this path behind my back
And take a path that cuts me no slack.
Where sticks and stones caress my soul, then break my bones.
Where my painful groans
be the only song that resounds as the early gong.
Here pain is gain, daily fighting my flesh hence in chains.
At this pace Lord let it rain as I let go of my gravy train.
It does get easy but then gets hard,
But down this road I will go as far
Cause… This path just finds me more,
Raising me high cause Jesus is Lord
By Kapa187