The Poetry Marathon

Let them deny painfully

Where their belly fell

Let them run hastily

To where we can’t tell

They are like rain beaten birds

of the forest

O’

Why not tie a bond

And plan to re-make

the smelling pond?

I’m voicing the reality now

Listen,

This is my homeland

I stand to be a native

The indigenous lover

of my land and culture

May I wear not

The visitor’s shoe

Even if

I walk bare footed

For I keep the strength

in dignified forefathers

How hot

the gravels may be

I still seize not

to be a member

of my homeland

Succulent, elastic on the tongue

Toast the bread and adorn with cheese

Stand back, say cheese, blow a kiss

And wet your tongue by one sight

I stand beside the bed

O’ mine, pat my shoulder

Mean no mean my O mine in me

It’s about half the clock

To watch the cornices remain clear

When we meet, melodies strike abound

More than friends, more than a bond

Our souls meet and jiggle to our bounce

O’ K, let that music send her praise

Today is Sunday

And by Friday, your song will make sense once again

Let us not depart by sins

Of the keys you handed to me

G shall I sing — until then

Through a tick of the clock

I carry a sac of boredom through the night

I take steps to seek a convo with the stars

But the moon has fallen earlier than

I whistle fears into the atmosphere

And feast on the chatters of night birds and fireflies

It’s a no fear zone

When the moon falls at night

It’s a fear zone

When the sun falls at night

I smile in the wee hours of each day

In my self, I speak to the Holy Spirit who makes

I listen

I meditate

And take a deep breath to the music that defines my journey.

A whole journey of bees and honey and bile and roses

My helper is the champ of my crossing path

I’ll leave you here for air to preserve a part

Just be still and listen

There is much said in silence

Just be still and listen

For silence is a piece of gold

I walk on an island unkown

Swash moaning softly till it tames

I take empty steps to empty new phase

Tell new morn birds I’ve got a friend

A book from the shore of the blues

Take me back in time

For i have found a chapter to find solitude

I have torn a page to fly back in memories

I felt her skin in me like a warm flowing soft water

Palms catching vibes to the grooves of a hill

It’s four am

It’s a dawn to raw am

And I feel

the whispers of the breeze behind my ears

You left no traces

I looked no where but your shadow was away

Just a sorry could save the dust from rising

All eyes are dusty

New plates are rusty

It was a word to dig the well well