Tag: Poetry
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The still small voice
a still small voicespeaking to you in what seems likeyour own voiceyour own thoughts Nudging you to let goof the water slipping out of your clenched fistof hard efforts that have come to nothing a still small voicethat’s always lived with youinvisible like the windstealth like movements in the dark yet each time it speaksit’s…
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They say you’re not good
they say you’re not goodthat you’re a hypocritea wolf in sheepskin they say you’re a disappointmentyou had so much potentialbut what are you today?a burdena watered seed that never germinatesyour gardeners are agingperhaps it’s strangers that will reap their toil but youwhat have you got to say about yourself?you’ve been silentsilently workingopening up your sores,…
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Thick clouds are gathering
Thick clouds are gatheringAmidst occasional rumblingsAnd chilly winds mixed with the departing warmthJubilant crows circle in the sky In a corner of the sky, sun rays leakThrough a crack in the clouds Sweat from perspiring clouds in motionDrip on my face, I hurry to a shelter I watch the crows now sitting silently on nearby…
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Only believe
I’ve come to what seems like my endwhere patched hopes refuse to mendbarriers refuse to bendthe raging sea in my pathrefuses to part and all I hear in the midst of the rising tidesis a still small voice reminding meto only believe Holding onfeels like waiting for stones to ripenI do not know if I…
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In the shadows
In the shadows of every shadeAn unseen plaque with the nameOf a thoughtful sower In the success of many homesThe unheard creaking bonesOf a thoughtful shoulder Same sower and seed scenarioReplayed, retoldWisdom, wasting, waitingTo be emulated
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bending bars
the opening line of a new poem comes to mindI write it down impressiveinspiringout of the blue I think of what should followseveral attempts, no progressI doze off, wake up, continueputting many activities on hold still no progresscan’t think of a sensible continuation frustration days pass byI sit, rise, pace, take a break, return, take…
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gods of justice in their element
chunks of gingerthat have missed the teeth of a blenderhave found their way into Mom’s soupDisguised among the chunks of smoked fish and salted meatawaiting an unsuspecting victimwhose feet are tiptoeing towards the kitchengently opening the doorlistening hard for mom’s voice which is busy in the living room shouting on some sordid character on TVTV…
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We are one family
Like two tough bulls, two men are locked in a game of draughts under the shade of a baobab tree, surrounded by a cocktail of nationalities, so typical of crowds in West Africa’s Ivory Coast. Friends and passersby watch in suspense against a backdrop of Zouglou music playing from a bar nearby. The game ends.…
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dry your tears
He’s asked that she dry her tears and smilebut how can she, in the midst of so much pain?while they talk, she’s distractedby the singing of her patientsa favorite song of her lover gone on a long journeywhose many letters have trickled to a fewthe song comes to herlike some lonesome puppy recognizing its master…
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The letter to Daouda
she thought she carried good newsshe’s been sent to deliver a lettershe, an illiteratethere in his office she stoodwaiting for him to read and replythe wilting joy on the face of the readertells her something isn’t rightslowly, the initial smile on his face fermentsinto a sad, bitter face, polluting her initial joy tooshe waits as…
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