Sunday

 

They say that Africans,
Will have to fight for a place on the bus,

So I am pulling out all the stops.

I am burning incense and,
Turning out closets,
-exorcising demons-

I am fumigating my life,
Throwing out old clothes and,
Trying to curry favour,

-surely children were not meant for the streets,
Nor nations meant for war-

I have found sack cloth and ash and,
I intend to,

Gouge flesh with home-made irons
Flagellate until I bleed sin,
All over the carpet.

There will be gnashing of teeth,
And great wailing,
-effort must be made-

I shall identify,
Church pews with nails and,
Kneel!

But the spotlight keeps missing me,
And I manage only to elicit,

Splendid chuckles from my nephew.

♦photo - Irving Penn @ Wikipedia♦

evocative short poetry – words move

 

 

Demon inside

 

You would walk into a quiet house,
In a quiet neighbourhood and,
Take a young girl,

Into the woods,
And rape her,
Leaving a father disfigured,

You would,
Take a husband,
In the middle of the night,

And break his legs,
And electrocute him,
Because he will not salute your
Blown up image,

You would,
Empty bank accounts,
Nurtured for years,

By elderly couples who,
Just want rest,
And something leftover for grandchildren,

You would dismember life this way,
And bear no burden?

I tell you,

There were angels in the courtroom,
And in the playground,
And on the plane,

But I was not one of them.

I will find you and,
Eat you up.

check this out; nigger, whore, bitch!

♦photo – webstockpro.com♦

evocative short poetry – words move

Nothing breaks forever

Nothing breaks forever my friend.

You may trip when you find yourself up against
The success of a friend,
You may find yourself betrayed by your dreams,
None of them coming now,
It may seem as though the flat open land before you is being squashed
By the grey clouds floating overhead,
And that the silver light that suffuses the sand is laughing
At you,

You see the frog there?
Still,
By the small cactus,
Whose shadow is stretching far beyond it,
He lost his parents in the flood when he was born, and bellows loudly,
As now,
At dusk,

You see that snake beside him?

He is tasting the air for fear, see
The flash of lightening is followed by the lashing of his tongue, see
The metallic taste pleases him,

You see yourself beside them?

You were not born on this sterile landscape,
To weep and look forlorn,

Can you feel my hand around you?
I am holding you in my palm and trying not to frighten you,

I will not leave this place without you, because I like your
Smell
And your feet

And I cannot cast you down the ravine
Just to drink of your wounds,

I have seen the gash,
And watched you rub ash into it,

And heard you cry out

I am aware that you miss your friends,
And the places you visited in the past,

You will not suffer much longer,
I promise,

I promise that all the angry clouds will melt away
Like ripples in a pool,

I promise you that the snake and the frog
Will not dance this dance of death much longer,
I cannot bear sharp fangs
Killing
For the sake,
Of a bit of fruit.

I will not let my creation wither in fear of failure,
or the appearance of black space.

What is broken,
I promise I will fix,
And then allow from now on, your wish…
Carry with you,
Your memory.

I am the wind, warm against your skin,
I am the snow
Into which you put your feet,
I am the faint orange light out where
Sky and Earth meet.

I am the alien who put you here.
I am sorry.
And I love you
And I will not accept defeat.

-visit my postaday2011 – http://shitsugane.wordpress.com/ –

♦photo – 123rf.com – see photo link♦

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