I’ve committed to writing a poem a day for the month of April as part of National Poetry Writing Month. This is day 11.
The thing about writing and posting a new poem every day is that you don’t get time to review it, edit it, sit on it for a while, think about it. Which is to say, they are pretty raw.
Especially this one. Vitriol with a capital ‘V’. Inspired by news that Robert Mugabe is on his death bed.
I lived in Zimbabwe from ’81 to ’85, when Mugabe first came to power. Hard to believe, but he was quite reconciliatory, relatively reasonable in those day. Like Mandela, he was a political prisoner for many years.Whilst in prison, he studied by distance education. He ended up with SIX degrees. A highly intelligent man.
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Final Words
Words flew in your cell window
as you served your time
a fighter for freedom
an enemy of oppression
such fine words flew in your cell window
you devoured those fine words
studied them hard
loved them all:
liberty, democracy, reconciliation
humanity, equality, justice
fine words flew in your cell window
but when you ascended to power
words flew out of your palace window
the first to go was justice
such a difficult word
it kept getting in your way
swiftly followed by democracy
too many people wanted to share it
those fine words, they took flight
next to go was reconciliation
you never really came to terms with it, did you?
liberty didn’t last long
it was too free with itself
you couldn’t put up with tolerance
so you tossed that out
eventually sanity deserted you
you were driving it mad
those fine words
they couldn’t stand the stench
You will die soon
and as you die
final words will come back to taunt you
to circle your fading body
they will screech and caterwaul
hiss and spit at you
drop onto your chest
and in your shrivelled face they will shriek:
Robert Mugabe: monster, hypocrite, fool, traitor to his own people
a man whose words meant nothing
copyright Mike Hopkins 2012
No review needed – this is awesome!
Thanks Roscoe. Hope to read it at the Annex some day, but I think I’ll be missing at the next one – clashes with Aidan Coleman at the Writers’ Centre.
Ditto that- whoa!! Love the circling words image.
Glad it connected. Yes, the image of words circling over Mugabe’s dying body gives some sort of satisfaction – if there is a Hell, he will go there.
Great stuff MH, love the visual of words and well constructed. Well done!
Again, thanks for your support Jen.
Michael
Words fail me.
You deserve a D in your name like Michael D Higgins. You are a Socialist Poet.
Some may be monsters, we all may be fools and hypocrites and will be forgiven, but a traitor to his own people will not be forgiven nor forgotten.
Is that Mr.Corri speaking? Either way, thanks for that wonderful response. Nice to be mentioned in the same breath as Michael D.
Raw = power in this case Mike, the emotion grabs you and swirls you along.
a bit like bicycle then 😉
Hi Mike…first time I visited your poetry through your comments on Jen’s site. I enjoyed this piece…I can see the souls circling him as he lies on his death bed, those people he did such wrong by, but those that expected so much good of him.
Nice to have you visiting Beckie. Yes, high expectations, and tragic disappointment. I confess I was one who held out hope for him in his early days. If you want to be notified of new poems, just click on the “Follow Blog via Email” link.
Very true indeed