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.
Scroll down for the poem…
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’.
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’