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Featured Poems: Week Ending Sunday, July 27, 2014

 1      

The Lady in Black

Smoke comes off the chimney tops
Trails behind the breeze as the rain drops
Hurdles under the clouds to seek shelter
Disappears in the vapor of a darkest winter

Snapped under my coat I ran to shelter
My steps tracing the trail of glass
Sweat dripped down my palms elevated
I lift my knees and walk agitated

Took a second to notice, a scarf hanging
Neck loose, head bottled, scalp dangling
Cold breath sneaked up and down my neck
As the lady grasped sight of her final dread

My gaze slid under her skirt
Her undone hair and bloody shirt
All climbed to intertwine juxtaposed above
Merciless, spineless, slithering gloves

Ice-clawed eyes stared back in horror
Hands clenched in fists flagrant in color
Put a finger on his lips and whispered
A tone that struck my nerves unhindered

Speak a word and you're next
Don't put my patience to the test
Walk away, disappear, 'cause if I find you
You'll pray that god take you before I do

I couldn't hesitate twice abt walking
Suddenly, he cringed and started falling
Branches broke as his neck followed behind
Snapping backwards, dispersing his spine

I slowly walked over and found a note
To whom it may concern, sloppy hands wrote
I am but a victim, of this woman's throat
the day she stabbed me, the day she spoke

I'm but a lonely spirit roaming free
Why has this lady followed me
To murder all that I loved and once cared for
To sweep off the little things I'd die for

She was Lady Death,  the one we all fear
Seductively laying us to eternal rest
Drove me to heaven, doors slid clear
Her arms wide open, her warm loving chest

Then to hell I went for my earthly deeds
The torture I've seen for all those years
And you're next in a line of slaves
A queue of misery, a farm of graves

Your eyes have seen a deadly charm
Life as you know it is far long gone
Prepare for a sinfully long run
Here she comes, load your gun

Nature's Pattern

Through the forgotten meadows 
of nature;

For the wind whom grazes on 
grass more often,

And the tears fallen from the 
sky;

A purpose out of our knowledge.

A sunset leaving at pleasant 
ease,

Before guiding our last dove to 
its nest.

A sense of harmony; nature 
plays it best.

Our minds choose to provide us 
with a guise;

Only the morning light could 
satisfy our hymns.

A synchronized melody;

At which the inferior dove will 
sing for its children.

However this sacred idea;

Another selfish cling to our souls.

The pattern made obvious; even 
to the blind,

But we'd rather scatter the 
ashes of reality;

For it is our superior nature,

that plays a lesser role in what 
nature really is;

However I'd rather burn this 
page,

and leave its ashes somewhere 
in our forgotten meadows.

Maybe then would nature be at 
peace with the next blank page 
in our arrogant minds.

Tied for shortest story ever

Broken promises
Makes noose
feels regret

High on life

Freshman year was a breakout year for me,
I maintained a positive attitude.
This was someone I did not used to be,
Through that year I gained so much gratitude.
Year two was by far the year of heartbreaks,
a lot of my family members had died.
I was so mentally messed up it aches,
When Darion had passed I sat and cried.
Junior year was the best year of my life,
I pulled off the best grades in my career.
Even though it gave me a lot of strife,
I wanted to kick back and sip a beer.
Senior year is coming to an end quick,
Can not wait to laugh and share one last pic.

My Choice

They say to be true to yourself
They say you're so beautiful 
They say you're so bright
        "Just be you"....

But you know it's just how they tell you what you're expected to be. 

They say it with a dash of don't disappoint us
With a hint of be better
And a pinch of try harder in their tone

I'm supposed to be a smart, pretty and well behaved young woman
But I'm tired of the confusing orders

I'm putting an end to this ongoing war
These words are my treaty
No line to sign
No agreement or compromise 

Just read and try to understand 
I'm sorry to let you down
But I don't plan on living in the chains of your desires anymore
I'm breaking free
To find my own dreams
And to grasp someone's hand
And chase them together

Musa the village honey harvester

bees make honey-old news
and Musa,
yes Musa, the rugged, 
self acclaimed village bachelor harvests honey
his farm has a drone of hives,
bees seem to like him
and for some reason, the village women as well

this day, under a hot tropical sun, 
a bunch of old village men sit crouched
the agenda of the day awaits
on one side sits Musa the village honey harvester
on the opposite side sits Kaari, the village mason
his face furrowed in wrath
his poise crouched,
like a tiger about to strike,
eyes full of venom,
anger directed at Musa the village honey harvester
next to him sits Fatima, the third wife of Kaari, the village mason

in her youthful modesty, she is oblivious of the whole process
her face is puffy
she bleeds in some places
understandably since Kaari is the village mason
but she does not seem to care
far from it- she looks condescending
her actions have brought her here,
to escape the wrath of Kaari the village mason
and the passion of Musa the village honey harvester
to embrace the wisdom and council of the village elders.

as the sun ebbs off in the west
the meeting comes to a close
a few revelations have been made
that Fatima, wife of Kaari the village mason
and Maimuna, the village gossip
and Kabura the upcountry lady
and Mwende, the wife of village chief from far yonder lands
and Salama, the daughter of Muina village herbalist,
Konte, the village tramp
and Buura, the lady who sells mangoes by the roadside,
Lowe, the woman who cooks samosas using donkey meat,
Philla, the lady everybody suspects of being a witch,
Kamoni, the village model- the lady who knew how to tie a bandana first in the 
whole village
Kuba, the young nephew of Konge, the village musician who invented his own 
music
Blamo, the darkest lady in the whole village
and other ladies ladies not forthwith mentioned...
they all loved honey
and for some reason, they also loved the honey harvester

in his acute generosity,
Musa the village honey harvester did indeed give these women honey
a proof solid as day made by the protrusion of Fatima's stomach,
beings of honey sworn by Musa the village honey harvester
a farmer ploughing in wrong fields of land
but since the elders established that the crime was indeed committed
but the crime was committed by obliging parties,
a case of willing buyer, willing seller,
Musa the village honey harvester goes Scott free,
and his honey harvesting business keeps on thriving.

wanjeru kamau

A RECALLING WOO

Divorce me
Marry my dreams
I dreamt I was loving you 
for eternity.
I know your beauty is a 
hoax
I don't mind falling a million 
time indeed
As far as I end up giving a 
toss
That forever we shall swim 
in love streams.

Love is blind
But your beauty won't let 
me pretend to be
Love hurt like knife
But the whether of my love 
is too hot for that indeed.
Anything good comes with 
a price
I want the best in you, I will 
give it a fight.
You ask me if I can die for 
love
I say if we will be buried 
together I have no choice.

Do you still want to leave 
my love
Go with my dreams at once
I will die happy when you 
are with my all
I shall be waiting at the 
other side to continue 
wooing you to fall.

Dawn

As the Sun creeps over the mountains
Darkness cowers, making way for the light
Due weeps and turns to fountains, 
Drip drip dripping out of sight
Mother Nature is astounding
How different the Day over the Night
The Dawn over powers the dusk uncovering the night-shy flowers
It is truly sublime...
As the flowers stretch and yawn they face the Sun in pure delight

Discovery

The question of “what am I doing?” resonates in my empty noggin
And an answer is never thrown back

Only more questions
Are set free on to me
Doubts, second guesses, negative thoughts
Worrisome regrets and guilt

Attempting to see how I feel after the bomb dropped and left me scorched and nearly dead

My attitude towards it have changed
I didn’t want it to
But the explosion has made my vision of the truth I once held dear too blurry

No, no nothing has changed only my place of input
It is still true
But is it right?
Is this where I should be?
The skepticism marches in

I thought so last time
I was naïve and blinded by emotion

But are emotions what drive me?
What makes me human?
Why am I using logic now?
Because I’ve been hurt

No, no, no I won’t let the mushroom cloud shroud and elude my feelings

Ah, but look backing during the final stage I was tormented night and day 

Okay so logic is good
As is emotion

Emotional logic?
Logical emotion?

If the logic makes me feel confident in my feelings and if my feelings appear to make rock solid sense then all is well

Nostalgia, shame and all that from before now gone

But they’ll come back like always

But now I have tools to fight them

You need the fight; it keeps you aware and always going

Loneliness

Hello Solitude. 
Goodbye Multitude. 
Welcome again, in the realm of attitude. 
Feel at home, low magnitude. 
Although your absence were forgotten, 
back you came, to own me, your begotten token. 
I love your attention. 
I adore your affection. 
My true one, never gone, never done, to end what begun.

Nature

I woke up in the morning,
Thinking all about you,
Only to imagine your eyes,
Shining like a morning dew.

I rolled my arm across the bed,
To Find your empty space beside,
Your presence can always be felt,
Fresh as air all the time.

I took an effort to leave the bed,
And glanced through the window,
Only to see the beautiful sunshine,
Like the beautiful heart you endow.

The tree's hustled across the lane,
Dropping leaves as trail, 
Like your soft voice and true words,
Leaving a mark on me,they never fail.

The flowers bloomed in the front row,
All Red, Yellow, Purple and white, 
Like the variety of roles you play at home,
With all respect, love alike.

Someone embraced me from behind,
Someone i felt i knew,
As i turned around to kiss her head,
And tell her '' I love you! '' 
She smiled like the day,
All Refreshing and so bright,
And hugged me to the core of heart,
To imply everything is all right,
Peace to have nature in my arms,
And say that '' It's all mine!"
Happy to spend my life with her,
Cause even forever is less in time.

Invisible Man

Peering out as from behind a veil, seeing, but not seen.
Feeling, but not felt.

A faint shadow noticed, yet unrecognized.

As a gentle wind drifts across the shape of a more solid soul, 
Conformed, yet having no form.

Ache though I do to step from the shadow, there it is I remain until 
summoned, 
My existence, my worth, to be bestowed by the one who calls.

Physical form offers fleeting hope of life whole, but to behind the veil I will be 
returned.

Callous indifference the cause of my condition, possibly.
Benign familiarity though seems the more likely culprit.

Unknowing, both summoned and summoner are imprisoned, sedated on the 
monochrome tapestry of rote daily life. Complacent in ignorance, can escape 
be found with captivity unrecognized?

Realization visits but one. Blame not, for what binds one binds the other.

Wake to our state and give name to our bonds. Grieve for our captivity,
Let us then run together as one toward the light.

For These, Child

With a sigh you breathe in heartache’s chill;
Locked in battles, you’ll remain trialled,
Stealing breaths from a grip that sure breaks will –
Why waste your tears on pain, child?

Grass scratching your back, sun kissing your skin,
The pure way someone you pleased smiled,
Music that plays chords that bleed deep within –
Here, spill your soul for these, child.

Let tears cool your cheeks as you sing, and show
YOU could make a moment to weep for – while
Your gifts and strengths are everything to know
You’ll love the life that’s yours, child.

For you’ll live the dreams you love so much
And learn sweet laughter when they fly wild;
In each goal you’ll shatter, every heart you touch
You never will quite die, child.

Copyright (c) Silverla StMichael 1998 (previously published under a prior pen name Sherry May Curnock)

Sacromonte

A place calm and quiet
On the top of the hillside
A place far apart from city's hustle bustle
Where one can hear the sounds of dry leaves rustle
A place where winding streets have lost it's way
Yet the sun cast here it's first rays
It's the place of the Gypsies
Where these nomadic people live in peace.
Life here is beautiful with each passing day
It's one and only Sacromonte!!

SWEET RESEMBLANCE

In the right corner
of the hall a girl
sat,
looking just like
the girl in my
heart.

Then i took a close
and keen look,
she was as beautiful
as my girl looks.

Hands on cheek and
appearance as that
of meek.

As i kept observing,
i noticed her mind
was
set strictly on a
book,
so she won't even
take a look.

Oh i wish she will
look my direction, 
so i could catch her
attention.

For if looks were
all that mattered,
i wouldn't mind
trading her for what
to me
matters - my girl

The Battle Within Myself

 There's a battle within myself between who I was, and what I aspire to be,
 I'm lost in the echoes of my soul, darkness surrounding me, how will I ever be free?
 Sometimes, I'm scared to keep searching, I'm afraid of what I'll find,
 My memories of heartache and past mistakes still etched within my mind
 This battle within myself weighs upon my heart,
 I'm searching for a new beginning but where do I even start?
 Do I start with the pain that haunts me like a ghost?
 Forgiving others for what they have done, pain inflicted from the ones I care about the most,
 My mind is willing but my heart isn't ready,
 Take a deep breathe and keep your thoughts steady
 Trying to defeat the things eating me alive inside,
 I need to admit that I'm broken and let go of my foolish pride,
 How do you move on from memories holding you back?
 They flood me like a song on a broken record track,
 Why am I blind to the light I'm searching for?
 I feel so lost as my tears start to pour
 There's a battle within myself remembering the good things I've done,
 Pushing away the clouds and embracing the sun,
 Cherishing the blessings bestowed upon my life,
 Letting go of bitterness, anger, hurt, and strife,
 I look into the eyes of my children and see the innocence within their heart,
 Finding my clarity and I realize where I start
 There's a battle within myself that I'm winning today,
 My path becomes clearer as I make a new way,
 Is it ever going to be easy? No I'm afraid that it's not,
 Is that an excuse to give in and stop?


 1