Poetess pours out her heart for the bachelor president
Forget about Botswana President Ian Khama’s magic 4Ds; Democracy, Development, Dignity and Discipline.
A renown Botswana's poet Berry Heart has coined her new set of Ds, this time not for the entire country, but solely for the bachelor president.
And hers are not just four, but a smashing fivesome.
Her poem titled; I Have A Crush On Khama; has her newly-fangled 5Ds – Daily, Darling, my Dove you Determine my Destiny.
The 24-year-old performer set the stage ablaze in a red bikini piece earlier this year, whirling her hips as she overtly professed her affection and undying sexual desire for her president.
And, as if to display what is in the offing, the first time she belted out the rhythmical lines, she just had to appear on stage clad in the scanty red bikini.
Add to that, there just had to be a picture of President Khama projected on a wall as she gave tongue to her utmost ‘confession’.
Those that thought it was somewhat a publicity stunt may actually be wrong.
Just last week, when speaking on the sidelines of an arts event, Heart’s response to whether the poem was a real crush alert was: “That’s personal.”
Logic says if it was not personal, then the daring poetess she would have simply brushed off probing diary keepers.
In fact, after the performance in June, she admitted to having strong sexual attraction and long-term love for the unattached head of state.
And now she insists she has poetic licence to express herself as long as she does not infringe on their human rights.
“I was not insulting Khama. I just said I have a crush on him because he is hot,” she dauntlessly reasserts.
Her buoyancy as she says those words tells one that she would effortlessly retell her ‘story’ even under oath.
“I fail to understand how having a crush on someone can be a bad thing. By the way, that poem is one of my best pieces.”
Just what makes the poem her best? Could it be that she has a personal attachment with it or rather it is a true echo of her feelings?
While many will laugh and praise her for her bravery, there are those that have grilled her dressing.
“She definitely does not have any respect – she was literally half naked when she performed that poem. That is unacceptable,” says Tracy Onkutlule of Gaborone.
Lady Rangkwe shares Onkutlule’s sentiments and feels Heart’s attire was inappropriate and bordering on pornography as opposed to art.
“It is the same as to pornography because that type of dancing will stimulate sexual desire in men,” she condemns.
But none of that bothers the polemic poet.
As she rises to her defence, what matters is that she has communicated the message.
“That is just part of my art; it is not the way I dress off stage.”
As if the ‘nakedness’ was not enough, she went on to wish that Botswana’s most eligible bachelor would set her free from the torture of unrequited love.
Heart, in her recitation which was set to sensual music confessed: “My beloved Ian I fantasised you caressing my most erogenous zones, sending electrical impulses to my bones, as you rub your moustache against the nape of my neck.”
As if that was not enough, she seemingly steps up the passionate plea when she unashamedly declares what she would like to do with Khama between the sheets.
“Between the sheets, there is no Sir nor Madam, No president nor poet. I’ll hypnotise you with the magic of my phenomenal hips, lips locked, bodies close, thrust after thrust; my iron gates of life creamer than cremora; better and sweeter, hearts beat faster. Pleasure you cannot measure.”
Accomplished poet and author Barolong Seboni, a lecturer at the University of Botswana, sees resourcefulness in the piece.
“She did show creativity and her attire was in line with art. I didn’t have a problem with that.”
He is convinced that women’s freedom means they should be allowed to express how they feel about their bodies, especially artistes.
Heart has found several other backers. 26-year-old Tumelo Tebalo says: “I loved everything about the performance. The attire was out of this world and the erotic dance moves just complement the subject pretty well.”
Thuso Kelebapile, 30, also says if beauty queens parade in undies and are not deemed offensive, “there shouldn’t be anything offensive about Heart’s attire.”
He adds: “Of course, it detracted a little from the art as it caused some of her audience to lose focus on her message as they concentrated too much on her body instead.”
Despite several calls for her to upload the poem on YouTube where she has several other poems, most of them on the subject of love, she has vowed to keep it away from the internet.
She also says the much-loved piece will only see the light of the stage the same way commercial products come out of vending machines.
Since belting out the Khama poem, Heart, whose real name is Keotshepile Motseonageng, has gone on to achieve other exploits. She was recently crowned the inaugural Miss Botswana Musicians Union (BOMU) where she beat her much more illustrious counterparts.
Shortly after her feat, she blew an Alliance Francaise audience away with fantastic performances as she launched her first and new musical album.
Whether her Khama poem was genuinely a crush alert or not, it placed her on a pedestal and the plucky artiste is definitely swimming upstream.
At first when all my dreams flowed tallow melting to the streams so shallow my ardent thirst was curious
my tongue then made shallow whimpering lies along the stream sand where all my wave-borne bubbles burst.
For centuries memories imprisoned my dark passionate side that lies deep,
deep in every atom of my being
Afraid of being sent to the penitentiary,
I dwell in misery of how about Ian Khama I’m feeling
What hurts me most is…
those I share my feeling with have no purpose, dealing with feelings is hard
What hurts me most is…
Although I am a moving dictionary; there is no word in my vocabulary
that can express how i feel about this man.
Years return me gradually to afflictions and shames of childhood,
it is curiosity of existence…
Since childhood, I’ve always had a crush on Ian Khama and I’m ashamed of it
My beloved Ian Khama I fantasised…
You caressing my most erogenous zones; sending electrical impulses to my bones
as you rub your moustache against the nape of my neck; As your fingers sail through my back
Giving me the attention span to meditate; Liberating a part of I imprisoned by fate
The concurrence of our lips… ; Like an annual equinox
Your hands artfully spooning the brackets of my phenomenal hips
Making me convinced that I’m indeed an example of God’s handiwork
That night when our love spread out against the moon(x2)
That night who made love but we?
Memories carry me backwards on journeys of disintegration
especially journeys of loneliness
Pardon my obsequious manners,
I’m just a genius of pun done having fun under the sun
while Berry Heart poetry is shifting paradigms and cleansing imperialised minds of different kinds
raised to heavenly heights by the smiling sub-Saharan sun
Berry Heart 1=1 Berry Heart divided by 2 his mission is done
then his skinny ladies are none
girls with legs like slender pillars of a Tswana house in Kalahari
girls as thin as a sharpened edge of a blade
I and he will walk like a set of twins, like a set of twins, like a set of twins.
Despite the fact that I don’t fit in a pair of size zero jeans I’m a very good lover and Ian Khama deserves my love.
Love has nothing to do with weight.
Then we would kiss like snails trapped in an hourglass
Because may be, just maybe he thinks no Motswana woman is his match, and that’s the catch, does it matter?
Between the sheets there is no Sir nor Madam, No president nor poet.
I’ll hypnotise you with the magic of my phenomenal hips, lips locked, bodies close, thrust after thrust; my iron gates of
life creamer than cremora; better and sweeter, hearts beat faster
Pleasure you cannot measure
Getting answers to unproven theories and fairy tales
Your 5DS will change to ’Daily, Darling, my Dove you Determine my Destiny’