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Hard Knock Life
Nutriment from fruit and vegetable All sensation to the leaf, hoof, on rumination All fruition to the thin root, at germination Are gone extinct. Ever since; The game of Thrones started with unpredictable seasons The game of throws from bumper harvests ended The toss of food like it is softball The drunken masterly imbibe, Which things used to be in hoards Through pipe rings Our little holes for swallowing big_ Right down, Into stomach nets, or nests As would the fancied basket ball All those miracles ain't trite no more Over-writings of early morning breakfast, With top up luncheon and supper baskets at night time Have become-alike-dry riverbeds Such, now is the way it is With every hungry man's throat Flake aching like sun dried grass, As yellowish red as sand! Only hoodlum and contagion remain_ In a comically fraudulent sense! Famished are we, when with Almost, all nourishment sources burnt out To ashes By lack of rains acting in cahoots with Everything so called Global warming...
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Imma be cool crooning alway (Inspired by the late Hugh Masekela) I wanna be there Parachuted like, a hovering drone Towering as a dish sitted On space or orbit I wanna lend a hand With terra-pixel lenses My bird's eye_ viewing All silos spread about As precisely as governor Joseph Send me. From stratosphere, I want to tip toe Hunger won't just find out Of my stealth arrival. This chronic poverty Is a cruel kind of hell Our world is choking on a tight Stingy grip that won't let go, We are badly in need Of refueling - our dietary tanks. Frail and skinny we've become Thin as needles in haystacks Under a severe shock Of under nourishment Send me, so I will help alleviate Our children's hunger pains Why when we are With arable plains? Grass lands we've turned into Bad lands of hunger filled Baronage-s, of speculative titlehold I wanna be there When we close this vast gulf A yawning gap in our functioning-s Want to let my people win Against this voidable disease I wanna lend a hand, Send me. By Brian Tawanda Manyati aka Towandah Ryan Date: 03 August 2021 Country: Zimbabwe Listen to the recording of the poem by clicking on the file below: 
The unwelcome addressee - A case against hunger An Epidemic gone rogue, to enormous proportions A scourge unfolding without therapy Unattended for several years, to our future medics The cure is a must find now than late Or our funeral of endless burials grows stubbornly Like episodes of a horrendous movie series Watched by elders yesterday, youths today, albeit… None posing it. Twice, fingers jittery at pressing the stop button. Cdes, hands on decks. Set sail to hunger`s confrontation Head on! A combatant Africa, mood is to rise And cease to be attacked offensively like an unarmed battalion Unable to repeal a death penalty leading us to slaughter, Yet gazetted by a mass murderer We did not deserve to die in mass graves Or our skeletons won`t heal. Placement of us; The prosecuting populace, in docks – IN ITS STEAD. This is. Like an underdog outsmarting an overrated opponent In a swift reversal of roles, but cheated. The address: Ladies; eh gentlemen too. Needed – `s food on the table! Basic. Our draught power is well alive, but Reckon if you may, our cart is before the horses. Imports galore of Cere vita, from coffers of cereals` underproduction Indeed yes, our spendthrift is swallowing necessities gentlemen; Esteemed ladies. Primaries second ranked, Scoreboards read of record buys of mealie meal from mealie-cob less, a farmer Then a throat clearing reminder Of jet legged begging visits. Ours are manymore! Armed with shiny` colourful` collecting bowels for luggage Leaves wondrous givers in awe …..did we not say “famished” at the door`s knock? A hand extended anyway, in expression of neighborliness Pitifully knowing we shall be back Out of the terminator`s sake, not as terminators of a fate A cause unresolved that being hunger, not famine`s Any greedy mother feeds self-first What follows – ‘s elaborate displays of her malnourished child For a few more drops of well-wishers` bags food full Not a tag for Mother Africa She is too beautiful Hunger cannot rob her irresistible stature She`s self-provision able-bodied A moment`s chew is worth the juncture. Natively ‘that which gets into the ear; Sits in, attentively for re-addressing’ – chawaridza bonde Perhaps a re-thinking of Zunde raMambo Seeing not the command of it, rather the commendation: families fed Possibly, cessations from subsistence will SOS Out of surpluses to threshing floors my Africa A food surplus world shall prioritize the struggler. The vision Undoubtedly, present day`s food shortage has fed; Graduates, in dark suits and navy neck ties The enlightened, of an impoverished mother land. The case Honouring of agronomists with first aid – oh food aid! At the expense of the under privileged, A hungred provider of hard labour. The lesson Until we out do hunger`s contestation Non-bickering with the other Save for, all hand on decks We set sail and act solving, an endangered tomorrow Hunger`s address long unknown Is not anymore unsaid at last! Least it had evaded our past. Hunger and disease torn There ai'nt honour in hunger Add a Black Swan, Twin evils suffice. Here is when disease squats us Just as Covid has requisited Whilst a terrible hunger knocks on As has gone on and on Hunger already had us On a gruelling exercise. One without Any physical fitness outcome. Things haven't augured well For our trapped world With Novel Corona viruses Choosing to stay. In quarters already food insecure, Both of natural And man-made causes. What will vacate premises Are highly likely us people. For a terrible death knocks on In queues for food Food first then We distance socially next It is supposed to be the plan So he or she thinks Unfortunately, he or he die First before the food queued for. Zimbabwe sits perilously All Southern Africa faces one more time A double barrage of hammering Hunger sits judging In our chambers, While disease sits prosecuting. Both not offering bail-outs We all are Guilty before conviction For hunger wants awarding us Cumulative deaths As the paid penalty. Disease on the other hand Wants us to die anyway, As if our lives are overdue. Malnutrition, from famishes Frail frames from Covid uncertainty Health has pressed the exit button What with natural disasters Coming thick and fast One after another. The employer is in a quandary To employ. A socially distant workplace Comes at an off budget penny. The employee equally is in a quandary -To rather not be employed When next is glossary quarantine. -To rather be employed Where next is household hunger. Something is amiss! The question on food provisioning, Has gotten too late to address The question on health. Has gotten less and less cure. Today, A vendor's resistance is About the stomach. If he stay indoors There is militant lack If she goes outdoors There is the face of death But Husband and wife Just won't watch children die. Someone has to risk a face off With the pandemic's jagged edge All odds against him or her Just to survive From hunger first, Then disease second Death the midway snare It pours down than rain When someone erases A family he or she is After feeding. A family he or she is After surviving. From a militating hunger Alongside a cheeky pandemic. Less than 90 minutes with hunger Palpitating, Heart and mind races up Pulsating play, Each says to the leg and arm Be without tiring. Jog like it is a final match As if 'you' carry a nation's flag Against a crude tackling A thuggish. An arrogant, And uncaring hunger! Play, With not only pride at stake Rather, knowing, with strife and sorrow Comes piggy backed - a breakthrough Today's malnutrition, Causes us to kick kwashiorkor out There being opportunity and solution In temporary demise, Never a stroll in the park... "Hunger-er-er Hunger, hunger, hunger"; Yells of a commentary box And what follows: "Hunger aghr-ah-a-a-ah"; Yells a vociferous active crowd Visibly upset...shaken too! Hands forsakingly thrown into the air. And as for we pitching up, The hearts get heavier, Our minds wade off lost a bit. Undeniably, We are with a porous defense In a tense face off. You should see us hold our heads In disbelief; disgusted utterly. Our mouths ajar, we stand akimbo We are several scores down, To unrelenting hunger Left wondering If we truly are the underdogs here. We should be having Somehow, an upper hand. Than be gullible, Needed are uppercuts, At making selves food secure. But then momentarily we stop, From quitting in our tracks. We are suddenly reminded We came for nothing else but to win Albeit we take stock of the situ Midway; even now when it is Quarter to full time Of giving it all away To undeserving hunger Which is out of question; Answer is no before you ask! No to hunger outclassing us We cannot nomore be seen Marauding our own goal posts With own goals. Instead Our have to be fill up Global warming or not Takes slick passes And a spot on strike force This won't go to extra time. Click on the file below to listen to Brian read his poem:
 Brian Tawanda Manyati is a Chartered Secretary & Administrator and Accountant cum Poet on a part time basis. He belongs to the VaChikepe_the Poet & Publisher stable also known as HundredSailors.Poetry. Brian is a team player who works with the theme “together we achieve more”
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