Tony Chabaputa, the Zambian metrical author was born in Kabwe, one of Zambia’s most diachronic towns formally known as Brocken Hill and is right on the central province in Zambia. At the time one African she self was realizing that she was significant of the poet (Tony) , things just couldn’t be precluded from befalling the way they befell that time. Anyway, Tony’s parents did not have alternatives and could not fight things spoken by the natural clocks of doom. His parents were fated to divorce prior to the birth of Tony. Tony was since the age of 5 keeping up with his Father SPC, the electronic technician who worked for a mine called ZCCM after he had resigned from KGP in Kapiri.
Writing became Tony’s most expressive way of rectifying his intellect after he had read his first poem by DH Lawrence, titled: Portrait of the machine which actuated and gave Tony his a rhythmic arrangement of syllables. According to Tony’s own perceptual experience, in this poem, DH Lawrence signifies the rise of the mechanical madness and technological maturation of the new age ontogenesis.
In the world of writing, Athony poetically said:
I am not compelled en rout for writing
Writing makes the initial move on me
But what comes concerning writing if tomorrow I should indisputably die
What comes on the subject of all the things written by me, my and I
Oh my ghost
Writing I adore the most
Something duty bound to me
I am the one contained by it
While others see me through the course of it
As the highway to the place of some Vedic knowledge
Not written
Not prudent
What good are the 10 commandments if not written?
Yet must not slip through past my eyes
What magnitude is the bible if all the scriptures be oral?
Which gentleman would cover his eyes?
Previous to that which is in black and white?
A life lifelike part of life
Spoken words are but wind
All men vanished in silence
The house is tranquil
My eyes before the manuscript
Which when I read makes me wintry
Making itself know to me as a scripture, text
An aphorism or an elegy
Spiritual hashishi is what gets me so high
That no one can pray and take me down
The treasure of light and sound
Turning me into the only one figment of my own mind
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Its either I smoked weed a lot or am just mistaking myself for someone with spirits so high
Only the most high and nobody else tells me why
the mind can’t really die
They can’t stop me they can’t try
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Beyond the mount zion uptops
Where the smoke of sacrifice goes
The risen lion roars
Like a messanger of God that calls
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Blessed be this glorious moment
Peace of mind is all ours and we are so much ready to reason with the prophet
Deep into the Holy of Holies
We humble our souls to join the praying Highpriest
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To be agnostic is as dumb as failing to realize that you have been a fool of the lowest class
For God would consider it a sin
There is n o reason why you must fail to recognize this natural religious entanglement of the human mass
2 of the 7 questions of religion would be, where have you been?
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