Blind and Deaf
I am blind and I don’t see:
The pallor and eyes- begging,
Of mothers facing hunger;
The waist-deep filth we stand in;
And the bleak future yonder.
I am deaf and I don’t hear:
The music of shells and rounds;
The wind that spreads deadly seed
As we, in loss, make sharp sounds;
And the voices of those in need.
I feel the brush of Doom’s hand-
Cold, quaint but reassuring
While they sleep through our loud cries.
Tell me where we are going
Because I am blind and deaf!
HEPATICA
Idle coronary ramblings
Must vile Fate and Time commune
As converts, to rob my light?
Unwell and weak, must hearts fight
Relentlessly in lost wars?
Even then I’ll sing my cause
Ephemeral though the cost!
Near the shore I’ll get lost-
Never to sing that sweet tune.
HEPATICA
Parting of ways
Silence,
The sound of loss,
To the soul’s heart does ring:
A cacophony of church bells.
Distance,
Great as Time’s woven tales
Does camellia’s death bring:
Hope’s only source.
Silence!
HEPATICA
Aftermath
Life’s hope fades- its bright light dims;
Harsh whispers blow out my flame.
Joy’s soft coat bursts at the seams;
The day’s golden word is ‘Blame’.
Sadness- Happiness gone bad.
The screaming silence echoes
Through the dark room of what was;
Guilt and anger find a cause
To start aimless and lost wars.
Emptiness- Filled with nothing.
Broken pieces blown apart-
Dark indelible marks left;
The hand of Fate strikes the heart
Drawn away from its rock cleft.
Loss- a slow death or new strength?
I choose to make it my strength.
HEPATICA
THE HARVEST OF LOVE
Okay. I am back to blogosphere but I am only going to stay here not live here any more. I missed this place.
See- the beauty of despair. Touch- my sorrow but with care. Hear- this nothingness, if you dare.
The tree of Love has born fruit!
HEPATICA
The Children of Hope
It’s been a long, long time …since I was last here. But I have to go again.
Ah, inspiration is not something I get nowadays. My muse seems to have run off…with some other poet perhaps. 
This is one for the road…
Mothers still wail in despair;
lives broken beyond repair.
The music of guns still plays
through the life and death of days,
exciting our limbs and might,
and luring us into flight
Lest we, our unwritten fates meet.
We still dance to Hunger’s wiles,
his merry tune sweet as biles.
In lieau of anger now spent,
our stomachs wait like a saint;
As quiescent as Marakesh.
Beneath our trasparent flesh,
half-heartedly, our hearts beat.
We still dance the dance of fear,
for Death once yonder is near.
Murky Tartarus’ doors,
like Hyena’s infallible nose,
sigh with unguarded desire;
And mighty Zeus,the Grandsire,
unmoved, unnerved, takes his seat.
Though we walk through these dark gales,
and languish in deeper dales,
our spirits can not waver:
For our victory, soon to savour,
lies around the corner, nigh;
Hearts in joy will leap sky high:
In the distance the dark is lit.
Yes, we are children of Death;
We are,too, children of Hope
Hepatica
For a Maiden on her birthday(2008)
I have been away for almost 2 months and I have nothing to show for it. I am still as rusty as I left.
And now I have to go away again. I have to correct some mistakes; and pay for some. I will go in naked. For not a paucity of pride is left in me.
But that’s my biz. See y’all in June or July.
On a happier note, her birthday came and passed and since I am rusty, it has taken me this long to forge her a verse.
My poetic dexterity
is like a flame in the wind;
a gentle,black and steady wind.
Dangling from a tenuous string,
it screams for the Muse’s hand.
But suffice,it will, today,
to forge you, fair Maiden, a verse.
Today, my small heart dances
like a lucky worker bee
spoilt for choice among roses;
its infectious smile and joy
that of an April gentleman.
And my demure soul lies back
in a Pharoah’s satisfaction.
True, it may be bitter-sweet:
The heart, thus far good as Paul,
making impossible demands;
But don’t roses come with thorns?
So, give not a single thought
to those coronary whims,
and bask in today’s glory.
As Day’s flower blooms anew,
reach out and clasp this score year.
Smile like a Hollywood star
soaked with a million flashes;
be devoured by happiness
and savour the gift of life.
This, my dear Maiden, is your day.
Mama Africa
I think am losing my poetic touch, so I am going to take a break. I was toying with the idea of writing an elegy for Makeba,but all I could come up with is this acrostic,mirror cinquain in free verse.
There used to be a time when all I needed was a phrase and a poem would be in the offing.
It quite simply doesn’t happen anymore!
I need a new perspective.I should get another anthology. What’s the name of the poet who wrote Men love chocolate but they don’t say?
Mama,
Ablaze with love,
Morn star of Soweto
And true empress of Africa:
Afield!
Fine tears,
Roll down, seeking pursed and sad lips
In light of Ma’s journey;
Crossed it she has,
And gone!
Third eye
*sigh* Inspiration is hard to come by when you are preoccupied with whatever life throws at you…but then again, that’s what makes a poet’s life more interesting; writing even in times of inspiration-drought. lol…
I don’t own a camera but I am amazed by what you can do with it.
Damn, wordpress won’t show my paragraphs! I have even tried using html!Argh!!!
I have seen a ball of light,
her hair in a ponytail;
and I’ve caught a swift in flight.
I have seen, as inches, a mile,
and beheld Nature’s beauty;
captured the warmth of her smile.
Yet there’s just one way to tell:
Answer the calls of duty!
I have seen eyes and faces,
filled with fear, pain or remorse;
and the filth in high places.
I watched hunger consume flesh,
and heard wars’ loud voices speak;
seen blood, wounds forever fresh.
I’ve learnt life’s sometimes like moss:
Firm on sight but it’s root’s weak!
I have gathered Time’s fragments,
Motion’s footprints on Time’s path;
and delayed Fate’s evil hand.
I’ve the power to cause change:
One click and the sun won’t set!
>
For a seraph
This is the darnest I could come up with for a description. I really should try to write about other things, other than women and love and Cupid. Or at least one of the other traditional topics like war and drink. But those 3 topics fascinate me!
Two beautiful shining stars,
A silver bridge and a brass gate;
Two humble mountains of diamond and slate,
Four golden pillars beneath the stars;
Two blue roses for the sun to seek:
All wrapped in meticulate curves of divine velvet;
And a million strands of the finest silk,
To make an angel of a being.
