Dicks in Space Suits

UNEP, environment

Dead beetles die in their skins, and

Seychellois, Mauritanians, Maurtians, Martians,
Fighting with sun-tans all, and

Bad lip jobs,

In Nairobi,
Silent giraffes grope for love,

God,
Tends to antelopes,

The world ends
In a traffic jam or,

Dicks in space-suits building railways​ through the heart of a city.

♦Photo♦ Friends of Nairobi National Park

-short evocative poetry-


The Barber Shop

Kiswahili in Brooklyn,

Mercedes outside, and
I’m falling in love with my country.

Seven days he works.
Day’s off, he says

Entrepreneur, he plays
Doing what he can to cut hair well and,

Provide a space
For the rich and poor,

The men and women,

Who do their hair and freely discuss,
Their politics in his space.

Mercedes outside is his.

-♦Photo – Personal♦-

-short, evocative poetry-

China is not a free market economy or, On Welding

Observed-6c

I would have to have eight hundred haircuts,

To,
Buy the ‘Professionals hair-cutter’ electric clippers I,

Saw on offer,
at the shop window whilst having a pee, and

Trying to hit the resting mosquito on the wall,

With my urine,
-stream of thought-
When,

I noticed the incessant sound of welding,
Work-shop beside the loo,

Against the restaurant,
Africa,

And just thought, that is not a very good deal and,

Then, that
God is a welder,

-The Welder-

And In God We Trust.

Change the Rubicon,
I do not need eight hundred haircuts all at once,

America is not the only free country.

-♦Photo – Jua Kali♦-

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-

Mt. Longonot

short poerty, wors move, american painting, history, grant wood, love

Do you remember
the climb?

short or not,
shall we not?

Remember the trip up,
Longonot,

can we not, did we not?

Remember fooling around,
In that old farmhouse,

will we not, sexy tot,
love my hot
sexy pot?

Let him have the car keys dear,
Let him go to Longonot.

 

American Gothic Challenge     evocative short poetry – words move

-visit my postaday2011 – blog-

♦picture – American Gothic by Grant Wood at Wikipedia.com & Logonot Crater at Wikipedia.com