ROBSON ISAAC SHOES LAMBADA
NATIONAL SECRETARY - ZIMBABWE
Nationality: Zimbabwe
Email:
NATIONAL SECRETARY - ZIMBABWE
Nationality: Zimbabwe
Email:
ROBSON ISAAC SHOES LAMBADA
NATIONAL SECRETARY. ROBSON ISAAC SHOES LAMBADA is the National Coordinator of Zimbabwe Poets for Human Rights, an artistic collective of wordsmiths tackling human rights issues in Zimbabwe and globally.
Shoes Lambada is a writer, performance poet, critic and arts administrator also working with the only literature festival in Zimbabwe (LitFest Harare) as its Festival Administrator. He was born in Kadoma in 1981 where he started his artistic career at Jameson High School. He has performed his work to several audinence in Zimbabwe at almost all arts festivals that include the Harare International Festival of Arts (HIFA), Shoko Festival, Dzimbahwe Arts Festival, Ukubambana Youth Peace Festival and Protest Arts International Festival where he was an artistic consultant responsible for the spoken word segment. Shoes Lambada has travelled with his work to countries that include among others United States of America, Germany, Netherlands, South Africa, India, Zambia, Malawi and Namibia.
ROBSON ISAAC ZAPATOS LAMBADA
SECRETARIA NACIONAL. ROBSON ISAAC SHOES LAMBADA es el Coordinador Nacional de poetas de Zimbabwe para los derechos humanos, un colectivo artístico de Wordsmiths que aborda las cuestiones de derechos humanos en Zimbabwe y globalmente.
Zapatos Lambada es un escritor, poeta de rendimiento, crítico y administrador de Artes también trabajando con el único Festival de literatura en Zimbabwe (LitFest Harare) como su administrador del Festival. Nació en Kadoma en 1981, donde comenzó su carrera artística en la preparatoria Jameson. Ha realizado su trabajo a varios audinence en Zimbabwe en casi todos los festivales de arte que incluyen el Festival Internacional de las artes de Harare (HIFA), Festival de Shoko, Festival de las artes de Dzimbahwe, Festival de la paz de la juventud de Ukubambana y artes de la protesta internacional Festival donde fue consultor artístico responsable del segmento de palabras habladas. Zapatos Lambada ha viajado con su trabajo a países que incluyen entre otros Estados Unidos de América, Alemania, Holanda, Sudáfrica, India, Zambia, Malawi y Namibia.
Freedom
Sopranic echoes of silence
Aggravate the complications of my bitterness
The high-pitched voice of muteness
Pricks the inner wound covering my tears
which will only dry when freedom is freed.
A whirlwind and fragment
Of thoughts entirely flummoxes my conscience
When I imagine hand-cuffed and leg-ironed freeom:
Freedom behind bars!
They fought for freedom
Were awarded freedom
Celebrated, dined and wined for and with freedom
Yet when freedom uttered her free thoughts,
Parardoxically they frantically slapped freedom in the face
And silenced her by a battery of diabolic statutes.
The inspired voice of freedom now speaks in silence
Visiting in my dreams like an ancestral instruction
I hear sopranic echoes of silence
Aggravating the complications of my bitterness.
The high-pitched voice of muteness
Pricking the innerwound
Which will omly heal and dry when freedom is freed.
The last touch
You be my love for you come from my roots
You hate my black overall and black rubber boots
You adore brutes
Who wear white socks and black suits
Why should I trap a suit when I sweat in a mortuary?
I only write of corpse in my diary
Some hairy,
Some scary,
Some skinny
And some stinky,
Flee you may from my handshake.
Run you may from my pat on your back
Needless to say it is a fact
I will give you the last touch.
After your mother has given you
That loving touch on your cheeks
After your father has given you
That soothing touch with his fingertips
After your t(b)oyfriend has given you
That sensational touch from dusk until six
I will give you the last touch.
I am a friend of the undertaker,
One who understands the job of a soul taker
You will face the barrel in a robbery
You will rest in my busy room, the mortuary
And I will give you the last touch.
Gently my palms will race past
All your curves from the hair to the nail
Softly my fingers will explore the
Broad petal
And the stiff finger
Of your long-preserved virginity.
So why wait for the last touch
When the touch that will touch you last
Is the touch,
That can now give you a better touch.
I was drowned in your ocean of love
Now I am floating like a body unfound
Listening to the passionate sound
Of your voice so loud
Heating my thoughts like in Hell I am bound.