The widely celebrated poet , mbizotheblackpoet  brings you a   christmas present/gift in form of  a 95 poems poetry anthology Good Morning President ,the anthology touches a lot of issues  that include the world political landscape , social issues , the world economic stress , cultural and religious fibres , it tries to interogate  and discuss the ills   on this world  , issues on super power rot ,  stamina of propaganda,  warts of corruption  ,  dictatorship , plutocracy and autocracy ,dissease , poverty ,hunger and cultural dilution.

The anthology was published by Diaspora Publishers based in the United Kingdom  , you can also find them on google , facebook , and the book  is on sale on

follow the works of the Black poet at or google /mbizo chirasha 

You can find some of Mbizo's poetry in the following journals

South Africa / -Consciousness Magazine, Sibali Journal 
Canada   /        -Ditch journal, Red fez entertainment journal, Paragon Press [Memorial University Creative Writing in Alberta2009]  , Sun and Snow Anthology[Africa /Canada collaboration literary effort]  , Word gathering Journal. 
United States /  
   -Aids out Africa journal [2004 all Africa  HIV/AIDS anti-stigma Poetry Contest, Poem2day Critical Review, Velvet Illusion journal, Poetry.Com, Phathood Literary Magazine, Psychic Literature Review, Full of Crow journal, African Writer.Com Journal, World Poetry Movement Contest [2011,pending]  , Cultural studies journal 2007. 
Senegal-         A Collection of Poems   Radio Africa/ 2008 
United Kingdom  /-     Forward Press Journals and Anthologies [2009-2011], Mazwi journal  [2009] 
Wales /-                  Kushinda Arts Journal [2010] 
Haiti/Great Britain/-   Poems   Lime Jewel [Haiti Disaster Solidarity fundraising poetry/stories in Anthology 2010] 
Finland/-          Collection of Poems in the Ovi Magazine [2007-2011] 
India/-     Poems in    Posy of Poesy Anthology
 2009, Poets Paradise Anthology 2010 [Collections of  
             World Poetry in English/English Dept/JKC College in Guntur] 
,            - Whispering Woes of Ganges and Zambezi      [Co-authored Poetry anthology by                  Mbizo Chirasha /Zimbabwe and New York Based Indian born Sweta Vikram/ a Cyber wit Press Publication August 2011] 
Turkey /–    BH, Samat Icsrilankastargate Journal April 2010 
Ghana/  -          Poems in Volumes of One Ghana One Voice,     Poem in ICACD Journal [Poet in Residence 2009] 
Norway /–       Poems SAIH Website [Norwegian student journal, 2002] 
Germany /-     Poems in Lyrik-line, Poems in Whispers of the Continent Anthology for 2012 
Zimbabwe /-    United States Public Affairs   Section Website 2011 [Poems for US Ambassador Charles Ray New Generation Poets/Black History Month Celebration ]   , Daily News in Zimbabwe Poetry Column[  April-July 2011]  , The Mail Newspaper [Africa Day Poetry Special 2011], United Nations Information Centre Bulletins[2001-2008]
  , Iranian Embassy magazines[2001 -2005]   Poetry Bulawayo Journal,    Budding Writers Association/Writer Scroll journal[2002-2003], NCA Constitution Journal [2004-2007] ,    Africa Poetry Chat room blog [2007-2011] ,MbizotheBlackPoet blog [2011],     Poetry for Somalia blog, Collection of Mbizo Chirasha Face Book Notes[2009-cont], Moto magazine[ gweru 1997-98] 
For more information about -         Mbizo Chirasha, Profiles, Achievements, Programs, Festivals, Readings, News Interviews, Artists in residence programs and other published works 
Google using -Mbizo Chirasha or the Black Poet
Face booking -   Mbizo Chirasha
Navigate           Mbizo Chirasha on the following Web Blogs, 
Email    Mbizo Chirasha    on the following emails,
Call   Mbizo Chirasha on the following number/ +263 734 332309 begin_of_the_skype_highlighting            +263 734 332309      end_of_the_skype_highlighting

blue lemons .poem by mbizo chirasha june 2011

by Mbizo Chirasha on Thursday, June 16, 2011 at 10:11am
 iam the earth pregnant with poetic skulls and skeletons of prose
dawn of my poem strip nights naked
iam the nudity of truth and the rhythm of birth
with my heart dressed in pain
bring me the poetic grapes
and the metaphoric lemons

my mind is hanging like  tobacco leaves
bring  me the skeleton of my passion
and rhythm of my poetic licence
i see killers praying for silence and peace
isee the bleaching faith of my country
hope floating in detergents of propaganda
purple buttocks of morning sitting over fire and enduring faith
i hear the grief of slogan lashes and propaganda
sjmboks in  the night of the ballot
iam you and me

my poetry is a menu of provocation
and imagination,as dove of words coo-, in the dawn
in my mental trees
iam the nudity of truth
and the rhythm of birth
 i itch the syphilis of sunshine city
and the herpatitis of the  city ofskulls
blue lemons,a black , white , brown ,yellow poem
from the black poet
by mbizo chirasha aka black poet,june 2011

RHYTHM IN MY VOICE/for AFRICA DAY MAY 2011 by Mbizo Chirasha

by Mbizo Chirasha on Thursday, May 26, 2011 at 10:34am
by Mbizo Chirasha on Wednesday, April 7, 2010 at 5:48pm

Rhythm of my voice
Rhythm of my voice bottled in the marrow of the state
Tongue of the moon kissed the bullet fractured skin of the night
Fingers if the sun caress the machete teared bosoms of horizon
Smell of apatheird linger on the thighs of rainbow nation
Stink of discrimination bottled in brand of reconciliation
I am the candlelight against the nights of stigmatization
I am a griot erasing shadows of marginalization
I am a poet shrugging off cocalization

I am the praised
I am the hunted
I am the blamed
I am the wanted
I am the liked
I am the needed

I am a patriot of words revolution
I am lyrical depth ofshakur
I am the poetic breath of Maya Angelou
I am a descendant Langston Hughes metaphors
I am a identity rhythm of Senghor
I am the dream of common black agenda
I am afro pop The rhytmof Keita and Kuti
I am Africa passion
I am Masekela rhymes,
Makeba song of freedom
Vibrating charisma of Obama

I am a creative miracle
I bubble with consciousness
I am whirlwind of renaissance
I am epitaph of widows in Rwanda
, silenced Congo
Orphaned Darfur
Plundered Burund
i Sanctioned Zimbabwe
My freedom Boeing 707 is Martin Luther King
My freedom train Malcolm Little X
My freedom spear is Bantu Biko, spear of the nation.
I am a brotheL powered by words
I am a not shabeen christened by condoms
my confidantes are Castro and Hugo

Bring me a true democrat
, Bring a trusted capitalist
I will write thousand poems
I am renovating peelings walls of cultural tradition
I am reminding of true political orientation
I am tired of superpower vibration
your hearbeat bleached in political fermentations

golgotha episode 911

by Mbizo Chirasha on Thursday, May 12, 2011 at 11:32am
Golgotha episode 911

written by mbizo chirasha , may 2010

ballot defaecating shadows of hunger over
poverty creased napkins of my mind
slums farting anopheles into the gutters of my blood
long departed hunters urinated bullets into iron uterus of
war tired peasants
giving birth to atomic bombs
and suckling grenades
media wizards imbibing propaganda salami
and slogan pizza
hunger mandraxed rabbis licking fingers after chalk dust noon meals
i am a word dynamite fumigating corrupt economic bedbugs
sucking out the fertility of our sunshine
clouds of hungry bellies rumble with a formula
sunrise with virus graffiti scribbled on its forehead
moon rise with roaches corrupting its eczema eaten breasts
bread buttered with tutsiville blood ,sanguages cheesed with
darfur wounds
gore dripping diamonds auctioned for flesh guzzling guns
brown teethed nights grazing green mealies before fingers
of dawn caress vendetta wounded minds
unrepentant Ngo bishops pimping vulnerables for fat cheque books,gong and bling
greenback laureates double crossing peacecrats and warcrats in donor shebeens
economic whores dipping their sperm-ducts in diplomatic brothels

paparazzi gutters vomiting garbage of spray painted columns
slogan dogs parodying Hiroshima farce and bag dad comedy
greenhorns licking leftovers of propaganda braai packs after ballot arithmetic
undersized zealots fitting political g-strings in springs of delimitation
political morons mastering propaganda syllabus in their gimmick- tired memories.

i am a poetic chlorine puritising political mental conveyor belts
from the crude oil of corruption
i am a metaphoric lotion peeling off eczema of the decade election herpatitis
democracy does not heal the syphilis of apartheid
it never healed the hepatitis of racism
it is the ritual of the governed to govern
though they remain governed
democracy, a word of the corrupted learned
democracy, a fart of the bullet
signature of ballot
sting of the scorpion
blood boiling stomachs of darfur
darfur you smell Nagasaki
blood frothing hard rocky buttocks of Congo
Congo you sting Baghdad
hunger pornographing breasts in Somalia
ministers dangling bellies
poetry scattered in slums and ghettos
word stitched between bullet and ballot
grammar punctuated between slogan and vulgar
democracy an oxymoron of abacha’s machete and madiba’ bible
hyperbole of Guantanamo bay and robin island
- End -
freedom unearthed from apartheid intestines
a legacy that carried sorrows since the days of yelping baboons
and yapping dogs
Monrovia blooming legumes of blood in superstitions
of blood harvesting
crocodiles basking in the east of political comfort zones
afghan with the heart burn for freedom
baboons laughing other baboons in political forests
politicians crushing poverty under their feet
polishing streets with the glitz of robots and rainbow sweet talk.
- End -

IDENTITY APPLESiam a fat skeleton, resurrecting
from the sad memories of dada
and dark mysteries of aminism
iam buganda
i bleed hope
i drip the honey of fortune
makerere, think tank of africa
i dance with you wakimbizi dance

iam tanganyika
i smell and fester with the smoke of african genesis
iam the beginning
kilimanjaro the anthill of rituals

iam the smile of africa
my glee erase the deception of sadness
my tooth bling freedom
iam  myself, iam gambia

when others seep with bullets stuck in their stomachs
i sneeze copper spoons from my mouth every dawn
iam the the colombia of africa

iam the cinderella of africa
where mediums feast with the ghost of kamuzu in mulange trees
here spirits walk naked and free
iam the land of sensations
iam the land of reactions
coughing forex blues
i still smell the  scent of nehanda' breath
iam african renaissance blooming
i stink the soot of chimurenga
iam the mute laughter of njelele hills

iam soweto
swallowed by kwaito and gong
iam a decade of wrong and gong
iam blister of freedom vomited from the belly of apartheid
i see the dawn of the coming sun in madiba 's eyebrows

iam abuja
blast furnace of corruption
nigeria, the jerusalem of noblemen, priests, professors and prophets

iam guinea i bling with african floridirization

iam blessed with many tongues
my thighs washed by river nile
iam the mystery of pyramids
iam the grafiti of nefertiti
i am the rich breast of nzinga

iam  switzerland of africa
the rythm of kalahari sunset
the rhyme of sahara, yapping, yelping
iam damara, iam herero, iam nama, iam lozi, iam vambo

iam bitterness, iam sweetness
iam liberia

iam king kongo
mobutu roasted my diamonds into the stink of deep brown blisters
frying daughters in corruption microwaves
souls swallowed by the beat of ndombolo and the wind of rhumba
iam the paris of africa
i see my wounds

iam  rhythm of beauty
iam congo
iam bantu
iam jola
iam mandinga

i sing of you
i sing thixo
i sing of ogun
i sing of god
i sing of tshaka
i sing of jesus

i sing of children
of garangaja and banyamulenge
whose sun is dozing in the mist of poverty
iam the ghost of mombasa
iam the virginity of nyanza

iam scarlet face of mandinga
iam cherry lips of buganda

come sankara, come wagadugu
iam msiri of garangadze kingdom
my heart beat under rhythm of words and dance
iam the dead in the trees blowing with wind,
i can not be deleted by civilization.
iam not kaffir, iam not khoisun

iam the sun breaking from the villages of the east with great inspiration of revolutions
its fingers caressing the bloom of hibiscus


(c) Mbizo Chirasha
i have eaten my poetry
i stuffed my metaphors for lunch
imagination my cool drink
empty bag of my stomach blowing tornado,
a gunshot passed through my chest
another frustration


greasy propaganda apples for peasants
bourgeoisie for sweating corruption omelet
villagers for cassava and diet coke
streets for hip hop and toy guns
school uniform for PhD studies and bible for my daughter
wreath for saint valentine
roses for saint Paul
revolutions changed and revolutions unchanged
canister for fat breakfast
bullet for big supper
i am fasting the supper and breakfast
sun born with Vaseline on its forehead
moonrise with cancer on its breasts
tender skin of stars split by ghetto politics
kindas blowing condoms with lung wind
elders blowing balloons with broken hearts
another revolution
another liberation
another slice of politics
another rumble of hunger
another for the priest.
sweat drops, raindrops, tear drops
raindrops, teardrops, sweat drops
the breath of my pen stinks

  • xenophobia my son

    i hear a murmur in the streets

    a babble of adjoining markets

    your cosnscience itching with guiltness like

    genital leprosy

    your wide eyes are cups where tears

    never fall

    when they fall the storm wash down bullet drains

    and garbage cities

    come nomzano with your whisper to drown,

    blood scent stinking the rainbow altar

    darfur ,petals of blood spreading ,

    perfume of death choking slum nostrils

    slums laden with acrid smell of mud and

    debri smelling like fresh dung heaps

    fear scrwaling like lizards on darfur skin

    kibera ,i see you scratching your mind like ragged linen

    smelling the breath of slums and diesel fumes

    the smoke puffing out through ghetto ruins is the fire dousing the

    emblem of the state

    belly of zambezi ache with crocodile and fish

    villages piled like heaps of potatoes aganst the flank

    of eastern hills

    farmlands dripping golden dripping dew

    sunshine choking with vulgur mornings

    dawns yawning with vendetta filled redemption songs

    drums of freedom sounding fainter and fainter , blowing away in the wind

    when streets rub their sleep out of their eyes

    villagers scratch painful living from the

    infertile patches of sand on this earth whose lungs

    heave with copper and veins bleeding gold

    ghetto buttocks sit over poverty,kalinga-linga

    corruption eating breakfast with ministers,kabulonga

    with shrill cries of children breaking against city walls

    shire river tonight your voice rustled dry , like the scratching of old silk

    politicians grow everywhere like weeds

    land of ngwazi,yesterday crocodiles breakfasted on flesh

    owls and birds sang with disginated protocol

    ngwazi your cough drowned laughters and prayers

    your breath silenced rivers and jungles


    the belief and gift of my poetry

    sweat wine poured to absent , long forgotten gods and godesses

    soft kiss spent on golden virgins before they aged into toothless grannies

    the rhythm of samora

    heartbeat of chimurenga

    drumbeat of chissano

    today mornings blight in corruption

    a social aneroxia

    abuja guns eat you more than disease

    iloved you before you absorbed poverty as sponge

    soaking out water

    before rats chewed your roof

    before you concieved men with borrowed names and totems

    ghost of abacha guzzilling drums of blood and galons of oil

    wiwa chasing shadows of babangida past delta of treasures

    bugand cruelty is a natural weapon of a dictator

    poor lives buried under rubbles of autocracy

    pregnant mothers with eyes gouged out by bullets , pushing their guts

    back into their bellies


    a roar of old trucks

    a whine of motor cycles

    arumble of dead engines

    america frying its fingers in oil pans of your kitchen

    where europe fry , america roast

    angola , if you cough , america catch a fever

    angola quench my parched lungs with a spoon of oil

    i see the naked thighs of your desert hills

    barosteland sestwana

    a servant positioned with trust

    american green bloomed your desert shrubs

    your loyalty is sold to she who offers the next meal

    barotseland of seretse


    yourlips burnt brown with exposure of rough diet

    you are muffled voice , cursed and drowned into deep silence

    the smell of aged incesnse and stale coffee

    a tune piped by the sheperd on moutainside,only

    to be half heard by and quickly forgooten by villagers


    the anthill of black seed

    coast blessed with gold

    once a tyoung girl full of sap and strength

    once perfumed with richmess and sacredness

    you shared your salt and sweat fro freedom

    today you a like a woman who sleep with a pillow

    between her legs anticipating a miracle of man

    coast of ivory

    i see faces tight as skin of drum in moonlight

    ivory coast, once the smoke and smell of human excitement

    tonight bullet burrow into your belly like rats into sacks

    of thai rice

    you are the broken pot we patch to put on shelf again.