The sound of an African funeral

20150627_120913

They sing for him,
Swinging from heel to frail heel,

Growing earth between the ground and,
his casket,

Bleeding love into the air
Like orchids,

Humming,

They rise again
And again their gently swaying busts,

Move the air to and fro,
To and fro,

Intending that mother be comforted,

Intending that her wet eyes,
Smile at new wives, that

though her son was gunned down, the
Rhythm of the occasion,

Brings life.

-short evocative poetry-

We cavort wildly with Language

The fish comes steaming, and
English is not the only language making sense.

Here politics comes with dark green Kale spewing flavor,
Kenyans having lunch on the Boulevard,

Lakeshore strip, Victoria;

Commitment is the idea that momentum cannot disrupt motion, that
Committed, one moves forward,

Becoming better,

Choosing beyond the sound
Of Visiting Americans,

Prodigal sons,

Providing proof of the pudding, cavorting
Wildly,

With language, the idea that language is not owned, it is spoken –

Shot beyond the target,

Marriage for instance, cannot not be left with just men and women,

It must not be left to white opinion,
It is,

A new democratic notion, an
African one.

In time.

-evocative short poetry-