Suzawaka Phiri

Suzawaka Phiri Poems

The vision keeps getting
Smaller and smaller as
I keep getting older and
older. I can no longer

Her beauty knows no quietness
It is noisy and knows loudness.
Her beauty knows no humbleness
It only knows boastfulness.

There is a place that he knows,
He calls it, Paradise.

There is only one thing this place knows,

Grandma had a child
And she named her Shade.

No one had a darker skin

Tonight I grace the face of the sun!
How beautiful is the moon!

Jehovah has gifted me with a star,

Nothing amazes me like your big buttocks,
Petunia, you truly have terrific buttocks.

Before you, not even elephants can boast,

Dear pen slumber no more
There is now a song in my soul.

Dear pen ready yourself to explore

I wrote down my dreams
I wrote down all my goals
When money visited my pockets
I became a man who forgets.

My Muse please be kind
And influence my mind.
I know you're not blind
Influence my mind

Do not forget your promise, don't go without me
How shall I enjoy the sunrise? Don't go without me.
If what we share is way deeper than Tanganyika,
My love, don't compromise, don't go without me.

Before you tell every soul we existed
Kindly share the times before we existed.
Our mouths are shut, Elizabeth is gone
Barotse, what's there to show we existed?


There is no water in the lake or river.
And there's no liquid in the cup or jar.

There is neither light nor darkness.

Without the light,
The moon's beauty
Is invisible.

Suza I need a poem, write me a piece
There is peace in a piece!
Listen son, there is a sun in what you pen,
Though sometimes your pen pens pain.

Apart from pain, what will I pen
With this bleeding pen?
What is left in my soul, so that I can pen it
From the depth of my soul?

Uzoamaka my love, remember when the birds in forest envied our love.

Remember when the sky looked upon us with a golden smile in the day.

As I whistle on this long road,
Remembering the love of old
A love that now remains in tales.

I have no sons. I have no daughters.
Yet I am the female elephant
Who married the mighty leopard
In the infancy of day.

Forget the time I fell in love with Annabel Lee,
And how I changed my sex and became Annabel Lee.

Forget the time I told you about my aunt Shade,


Tell Okot, we have not forgotten
Remind Kapwepwe, we have not forgotten

Tell Rumi and Shams, they are still living

Suzawaka Phiri Biography

It was not a man who placed a curse on him nor was it a woman. It was not the water he drank nor the river where he bathed his body that was cursed. It was not the hut in which he slept nor the pot he used to prepare his food that was cursed. It was not the stars nor the sun that was cursed. The gods chose to place a curse on his destiny. It was the gods that cursed him. He remembered the day it happened, the day he was cursed. The day he wandered aimlessly in a place his ancestors told him not to enter. He found himself in a shrine of the old forsaken gods. He found cassava and sweet water. His stomach was empty and continuously asking for food. Uninvited and unwelcomed, Suzawaka chose to eat the food and drink the water. When Suzawaka had his full, a voice from the shrine spoke, 'Who ate the food meant for the gods? Who drank the waters meant for the gods? Whose feet found themselves in the shrine of the gods? ' Suzawaka was quiet. He had no words coming out of his mouth, afraid, his heart began beating fast and his body was trembling. The questions were harder than the heart of the Mubanga tree. 'It was I! ' Suzawaka finally answered in a very uneasy tone. 'To the one who ate the food meant for the gods uninvited, he shall be cursed to tell the tales of the gods. To the one who drank the water meant for the gods uninvited, he shall be cursed to sit under the Mutaba tree for the rest of his life. To the one whose feet entered the shrine, he shall be a Leper.' From that day, Suzawaka has not left the tree nor has he ceased telling the tales of the gods. The curse was a blessing, a blessing that was a curse. There was sweetness in bitterness and bitterness in sweetness. Thus he became a tale telling teller.)

The Best Poem Of Suzawaka Phiri

Self Reflection

The vision keeps getting
Smaller and smaller as
I keep getting older and
older. I can no longer
keep going from shoulder
to shoulder as that will
make my time shorter
and shorter. Long ago
time moved slower and
slower but now time
moves faster and faster
and our loved ones keep
getting fewer and fewer
while graves keep getting
fuller and fuller. Now that
I am no longer younger,
everything seems clearer
and clearer. All I need now
is a shoulder as I grow
older for when I grow very
old, I will not lean on my
own shoulder.

Suzawaka Phiri Comments

Suzawaka Phiri Quotes

The mind of a tale writer is simply the gods cooking pot where the gods cook tales and poems under the Mutaba tree.

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