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Lullaby, The Winds
When the humble evening quarreled with the travelling day It turned out not to be wise, for the aftermath brought grim dismay The aftermath, a heavy storm came riding on her way She pulled stuff along, anything that went astray Tearing, pushing against the curtained doors and windows Flirting with the wind, so that the…
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Muse: Midnights
Midnights are caricatures of dreams Like the quick mist upon the morning Licking the forest tree lines and city skylines Sometimes it stands like a smoke phantom with a dagger And mouth wide agape as like a dying strangled cockerel Sometimes they come airy, with mild words, softer Maybe with some rain, which makes all…
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Soul of Poetry
” Poetry haunts my soul Poetry flies thru the thickets, On a hot desert drive Daring the mamba to come dance With the cunny hawks hovering the sky” 1. Masked tribesmen bother the Lions sleep, huuthuut- hututu Down the thickets of the bushland strange music of the birds play They sing, they say… Wai-oo, wai-oo…
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Tree Leaves Falling
Now the tree leaves fall before us, dancing with the wind they somersault Time flies, memories fade, goodness lives and the day goes spent The tree leaves fall beside us, with the wind she danced, possessed, carefree While her brethren watched her swirl about, with the flirty wind on the tree The tree house the…
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Musing: Quiet nights
Quietly the night simmer away like the puff on a smokers cigarette Darkness envelop the dying day for the golden sun was long set Hot are the airs that blow this evening and quietly from my little closet My ears lay low, humbly listening to the barking dogs on the city outskirt Night birds, insects…
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Musing: Candle Light
Night falls Sleep calls My candle light dance, hovering madly before me Careless of its nakedness, careless of her waywardness Yet there was very little wind here, rather a swift breeze Coming now and then, but the candle light danced The corner of the room stood, darkened behind me My silhouette forming a union with…
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The moon and night plays
Yells, cries of children disturb the nights silence In the moonlight they dance, they play in the distance Casting shadows upon the lonely tree’d pathway Tumbling on sands, caring not for neither man nor scorpion They make figures, people and tall castles of clay Happily they yell, desiring nothing under the queer moon Meanwhile the…
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The African Dawn
** A slope of rounded hills Black against the horizon Threatening the sun with its fierce thrust With thin clouds streaking across the sky ** The clouds underbellies glow reddish hue The morning warmth fighting the heady moon Wide plains stretched, savannah grass paradise Sometimes lonely trees stand with the yellow grass Ancient, raw, the…
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Art of the Mind
Colors are exotic, beautiful when they are seen and ‘felt’ Shadows- shades, the blue skies and the sun when she set Wandering bees, yellow and black buzzing about The black wasp making holes by the wood post Camels stand like mad men who either forgot themselves or their ways On the sands, come views of…
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Amuse: February Harmattan
Harbinger of Sahara news, king of the queer dust I hail you Your entourage of heavy sand storms and dunes Display her works of art on our glass windows and faces You give us wonderful attire, a ghostly look We wonder, we make guesses of why you love the dust She paints everything; flowers, careless…
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A muse: Sunset
Shadows Fall behind the mud huts They paint soulful images, Like the web tent of a black widow Hanging like a carefree skeleton And the brown stains from hands Old or fresh which design the walls Silhouettes Fall behind the palm trees They draw strange figures, One like the village masquerade which dance heartily on…
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February
Sold to the warm white clouds and suns heat, To the golden hue, shared across the firmaments Across the fields where grows the yellow wheat Came a new born, a new beginning, a new month To the East and West, to the North and the South It came, striving, growing, standing, blest February retells stories…
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Muse: Under the guava
The guava shades our little playground from the scorching sun. The flowers fall on our heads and look like a fine bride. There is a family of brown-green mantises on the leaves of the guava, savoring the sweet fragrance of the flower and the open air. The guava is our citadel; it protects the termites…
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An Evening of ‘Colorful’ Airs
Sweet and wonderful are smell of dry air in the breezy and solitary open LIke that of bread soaked in margarine, quasi burned in the oven The taste is remindful of romantic acquiantances hewn to fields of Roses Stretched afar, to where the lands open to other lands of colors and scents The fineness of…
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A muse: Star Light
Star light But thousand miles away from home They glitter still with their amazing innocence Come on, dear glittering stars… You wouldn’t know I am not at home, would you? There are many glittering stars out tonight Out they come, like a parade of great might Come behold this exotic and pretty sight Made from…
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When we play with the wor(l)ds
Let us say there are some mystery in the Earths misery Fake hysteria overshadow Natures artless history Yet with the blazing sun come our sober pun Savaging the dying Earth: stay or run, but we cant run And when we look to the South, there is strive To the helpless North, there is a hungry drought;…
