Depth of colour Quotes

“A dance with the clouds. After this dance what next. When charcoal becomes ambers and fire remind us about sweet melodies. When human emotions stop to sing and we marry our sins. A dance in between fences and living inside furnaces. A million stars had dropped, a million moons spurred hope under our broken shadows. I remain here, I remain dancing with the clouds.”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“It all propaganda, the worst is near, the poor blame the political institution, the economist blame the political system, the politician blame those who voted… above all the poor are taxed more, the poor die with hopes and dreams. An escape for the poor is death, the political cult murder and slaughter those who speak foolishly because the wise are thrice as fools and ignorant. Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche , Depth of colour

“Never mind the world it is chronic chaos with high cholesterol people.
We want to make people to be normal while we don't know normalcy.
Normality is defined by a mass behavior what if it is false”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“No society wants you to be wise. It’s a painstaking fact. As the winds gather momentum and their energy is felt on the bellies of the wise, the fools are led to the epicenter of death. The world has changed so many books were hidden from a black man, under the skies of colonialism the majority forced from knowledge and we built a culture of straight education which is not education but instilling slogans of slavery. Lone reading, lone understanding, lone accumulation is what we fought for, just a social forgery we are still under post colonialism barbarism”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“I WAS ABUSED!
I WAS A VICTIM OF ABUSE. HE SPIT SPUT, DOGGED MY SPINE, DAMAGED MY RIB, PUNCHED MY FACE, RIPPED MY CLOTHES OFF.
MOURNED ON MY BODY,
SQUEEZED MY SKIN, PIMPED AND POUNDED THROUGH IT, CUT MY HYMEN INTO TINY PIECES OF FLESH, GONG GONG THE CATHOLIC BELL.
RUN THROUGH ME, POISED AND MY BACK WAS HIS BRIDGE.
PRUNED MY UNRIPE SKIN, FETISH ON MY SKIN I WAS THERE WATCHING HIM.
SEPARATED FROM MY BODY AND SOUL.
A VINE WITH OUT FLAVOR THAT WHAT HE LEFT.
A VINE WITHOUT TASTE THAT WHAT HE LEFT.”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“Petunias

The mind filled, littered and polluted by black petunias
The horror of the naked decaying sun over our heads
Graves crumbling, hills erecting, mountains sinking
The stinking, smelling melodious melodies

Yarrows growing in my heart
Rage on my body
Anger on my soul
Darkness of all the hate
Manifesting

Xyris the abandoned beauty
Eyes dogged and damned!”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“Mother!
Ripped apart.
Reaped stones of poverty,
weeds that sprouted.
Grown to fast,
crowned young mother.

HIV reaped the harvest of my parents left me with nothing but toddler to take care of.
Robbed my youth and my hey days, left naked among a thousand suns. The splendor, the splendor of pain. My face is beautiful broken pottery,
a poetry art scene.

The screams inside ravage and rammer the very child born along thorns of anguish.”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“The heart of the issue is the modern principle, that does not hold much water,
death of us,
sever from the bosom thine breast and dispersed, surmounted morals by sadist of uncivil.
Mammoth falling gradually dying without remorse, history hidden on the hills and caves, decipher not,
roots abandoned for modern indulgence,
eyes see not,
civilization dying in the orb of beauty
when wine blinds us.
Rivers moving upstream,
oceans feeding rivers,
deserts with dense pine trees, oasis with mackerels, the amazons’ sands with camel foot prints,
the Savanah snow rain paint beauty of pandas.
Mother is blinded by mammon, father drunk with savory of rum while it digs, it destroys the spirit while it penetrates the cudgel spell.”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour

“Mother I need answers
Is it a curse mother to be a female?
Is it a taboo to be female?
Don`t we have the same spirit like males? Don’t we have the same flesh like the male?
Nights are harsh, nights are haunted hours gushing my tears on my hazel skin mother I‘m torn apart.
Mother did my ancient mothers feel the same abuse?
Mother did my ancient
mothers carry the same burdens like the one I’m carrying?
Mother remove your old breast,
I want to suckle freedom,
mother remove your breast I want some solace and protection from the screams of the world.
He comes home smelling the pub,
he comes with anger written on his forehead and his eyes magma henna.
He opens the door and he starts to shout, vandalize the property and he wrestles me. Do I have some value under this hot sun? Mother I need
The disk of the orb breaks down,
seeds of tears are planted on the floor.

He roughly and vigorously opens my legs and he enjoys the sex whilst I enjoy the pain. Blood flows on my legs,
a pool of blood on the floor
that needs to be mopped.
He is snoring and he dreams of another battle where he is always victorious.
Why do man abuse women?
Mother I need answers.”
― Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche, Depth of colour