Lessons from a Zambian Road

My reading of a poem I wrote entitled “Lessons from a Zambian Road.” Be gentle, babies. It’s my first time.

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20 thoughts on “Lessons from a Zambian Road

  1. Wow, this is a revelation for me, having never seen you move or heard your voice. What a wonderful voice. For some reason I was surprised that you have an american accent! I guess I have read your work, so I read you with a Kiwi accent.. now I must go and listen again and stop watching you and start listening to the words. Often these things are not simultaneous…

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    • It was hard faking that American accent, but I was hoping to draw in more viewers. I am secretly French, but tell no one.

      Thank you for the kind words. I hate what’s left of my voice. It used to be rich and deep, like hot chocolate under a warm blanket. Now it grits like sandpaper on a dusty beach, but we do what we can with what we have.

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  2. Very smooth my love 🙂 Beautifully read, and performed. Your words are like smokey chocolate, with a hint of cherry in my heart, and caramel smoothness in my belly, articulating, trickling down through my spine ever south to toes that tingle blue.

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  3. A local radio station works with World Vision, who does not just send money and supplies to places around the world but when you sponsor children the money is used to teach and build schools. It also is used to dig wells and provide clean water, etc… Early this month, 2 of the men from the station along with one of their daughters went to Zambia. Riann, the daughter, had listened to her dad try to tell her about true poverty and after the jet lag wore off her annoyance with her dad subsided and she saw true poverty for the first time in her life. I listen to the show on my commute to work every morning and listening to her talk about her pestering dad to her humility and awakening made me smile.
    I lived in a third world country for several years and saw the crippled and weak still working hard for a day of sustenance. As a child it impacted me for the rest of my life. There is not a day that goes by that I do not consider my life as blessed beyond belief.

    Thank you for sharing this Bill. I did not watch you on the video, I set my head down and listened…and cried.

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      • Or a mama sneaking naan to her child under her chador while the child washes clothes in stagnant jube (gutter) water.
        There are things that will ever embed and mark your soul and either break your heart and make you jaded..

        Thank you for your poetry. ❤

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