Africa art Muse Nature


Shadows clone for good or evil
Like a hefty hoe tilling the soft soil
Her shadow strikes too at things dead
Under the moon’s watchful eyes this land,
Shadows of branches on the ground
Were green trees during the noon
Taunt timid skies overall, shining on fair nuns
But they become the dark spells in the night
Fruits on trees seem round like metal pots,
Suspended from strange tree branches
Its silhouettes draw teen pregnancies
Yet life is enhanced under this shadow;
A reality or farce, made of a shadow’s sorrow


5 replies on “Silhouettes”

What happened? This is completely unlike any of your other poetry. Have you been letting incoherent intellectuals make you think you need to “stretch” your work, or something? Yuck! Barely makes sense, unpleasant images, negative message. Go back to being yourself and writing from your own pure heart — you don’t need to be able to sound like anybody else.

Liked by 1 person

Your response is full of your characteristic heart centeredness, thank you for receiving my input constructively.

I’ll clarify that a poem about your pain is entirely within the purview of your work — it’s the incoherency and abstraction, too characteristic of dead “modern” poetry, which alarms me with regard to your loftier poetic path.

I’m sorry about your heartbreak, and will send prayers that you find yourself, after grieving, stronger and better for each loss.

Much love, my brother

Liked by 1 person

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