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Best Famous Godfrey Mutiso Gorry Poems

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by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry |

PUBLISHERS

 And then they pretend like owls
With marble eyes and wizened stupidity
I do not know why they cannot perceive
True art
But I will write
Until sand evaporates
And the moon consumes the sun
I will write
Even for the sake of art
For myself and for those who feel
Reading could lift them
Into other spheres of fancy
Where thoughts are much clearer
And deeds best described
As a vintage of the self
And society.


by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry |

THE GARDEN OF DEATH

 Weak but alive
dying yet still alive
huge eyes
round like golf balls 
white as bones
Bony framed
fleshless
Pus in orifices
worms
teeth, white teeth
skull and bones.
Am sorry for life Oh this pain deeper than Only death can save My friend, I am sorry That you pain When you sleep, wake Pain, blindness Damn anguish – no thoughts emerge When engulfed by pain Such heart is dead Am sorry; Oh this life! A taboo You will die so Potstones thrown In the garden of death.
The nurse is no artist A greater artist has shown the nurse An art of degeneration A human form sculptured By an ailment of our time A thousand diseases in one.
And then these sufferings There will be no heaven here… Can’t eat – wounds in mouth Cant pee – balls on fire Weak and dizzy As thin as bones – is bones Skin and foul air Do not pity- There will be no heaven here A body ravaged beyond .
.
.
When looking for hell You will find it here.


by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry |

AN ODE TO MY JAILED FRIEND

 Unmasked –
The spirits' face is a black hole
Swallowing the celestial beauty
Of the stars.
Caged – The sentinel is crouched Subsumed in seething pain Not pain but anger of being guiltless Yet ‘guilty’ for being in jail.
The cell – No crime equals its greasy grey walls Thickly dark with no grills for light Till the eyes, sore, feel pain no more.
The sentinel – Was once a brother Used to sit by my feet But wandered away, Till err passed his way.
Who is to blame When the mind is aflight And discretion is abandoned For valor?


by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry |

This country nurtured hope...

 This country nurtured hope decayed,
The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler,
The thief.
Feeling the base of his belly.
There is a slum in my heart But I cannot relocate it to my foot Nor hand nor back Its rusted tin makeshifts make my blood flow slow.
War has filled my heart with bullets, Steel and blood do not mix.
A bullet lodged in my head Is another brain of the dead.
Africa my home Africa my tomb.


by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry |

AFRICAN WRITINGS

 If you meet literature from Africa
Or even their mentors
In such works
You realize a trait of madness
Pumping into the throbbing poetics.
There is a knack in it that sparks alight The nearest shrubs; Intrigue and sensation incomparable.
The heart of African literature Pumping wordy blood into fragile young minds.
Rejuvenating the African word That merges into a whirlpool mixture Of creativity, and strengthen our verbosity.
Impregnated words Be borne from fertility the center.