Mexican worker traveling home
Mexican worker was not traveling alone
Lived here for a decade, twice
driving, he skidded on some Ice
Mexican worker and his son are now gone
.
twixt mine
duke's hern
digits
tressez
'gainst speak
mine
hern
(((lock)))
.
i warn'd yuh guy
now she'z
neath burly
mine
thus off we go
and tickles
she
i can here'er
r
*here'er spell'd with
thuh astute think '')
Into the Hatch, drop by drop
The metal melted like the crop
Sizzling ooze falls onto a floor
And begins to feel a little sore
Still no eyes, no lungs, no aim
Digits pull and push its frame
Outward sounds, crashes, pounds
Begin to be heard, as fear surrounds
Ears, but not quite shaped like ours
Are the next to form in these early hours
Yet just as green and red get comfy
A grating shrill comes from newfound company
Their location is hard to properly state
This starless cavern below the Fate
Forgers don't dare stoop this low
Whatever is here won't approach slow
The sounds in the silence, let words free
"WrIgGlE aBoUt, WiThOuT We?"
Tumbling turns to playful pursuit
When from a stomach protrudes a foot
It winds its ankle, without a crack
And stamps down harsh, with an attack
The Smith is pinned, spreading his patch
While five more digits manage to snatch.
(Epigram For A Corrupt Prosecutor)
Scales of justice swing so slowly
for your sin,
Snatching silver secrets safely sheltered
skin.
We see your shadow stretch a shady stair,
And mock the ''justice'' sleeping soundly
there.
Some streetwalkers shake their hips
Whilst others may lick their lips
What they have on show
Is ready to go
To the nearest Fish & Chips
When we were small
We used to play amongst kids
A game called The wind blows
We follow the instructions closely
Then we put them into actions
Into fun and laughters
We run
We push
We snatch
We scream
We laugh
Until a chair is sat and rooted
Now when we have grown up
We face the same game in the society
But we don't have the same mood and interest
To play it again
Why
Is that too tough and too hurt
To play in the adult world
To practice in real life
The world looks so different nowadays
We can get things without stepping out of the threshold of the house
We can do online shopping and e-banking
Many things are reachable even to the handicapped
These are the benefits of science
Especially the handphone and the computer
In front of the eyes of judgement
The handicapped may not be treated as handicapped
But the nonhandicapped may sometimes be treated as handicapped
When they are too lazy to work and study
When they snatch, they steal, they corrupt, they scam
Hurray,
The handicapped should struggle hard to
become
Nonhandicapped spiritually one day
Do not snatch my breath away
Come to my aid please for I cannot breathe
my neck’s being brutally kneed and squeezed
Though my voice is now barely a whisper
hear me my every brother and sister.
Cry for my dilemma, sigh for me too
may such cruelty never come to you
It's difficult trying to gasp some air
my demise is coming soon, I declare.
I utter, is this needed, tell me why
is death in a gutter how I should die?
For something unjustly unbearable
was my sin honestly so terrible?
Come here my sweet Lord for you I do need
my murmur to you before I'm deceased
I do acknowledge that crime does not pay
but isn’t it a sin to snatch breath away?
27th April 2021
Writing Prompt - Breathe- poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
(((+)))
Eleanor scooped up her kitten, in the pumpkin patch.
She was happy to do it. His name was Black Snatch.
She had snatched him from the beak of Owl Boy long ago.
He was mewing in distress, an animal in crazy woe.
Owl Boy was angry, so Eleanor threw him some meat.
She had already cooked it, but it was something to eat.
She traded Black Snatch for beef chunks from gram’s stew.
She was a smart witch, she knew what she had to do.
Owl Boy sometimes flew along with Eleanor and Snatch.
He gave them his lazy eye. Their rivalry they did not patch.
But he understood that she would fight him tooth and hide,
So he left her cat alone, content to glide along for the ride.
HER EVERY GESTURE,
MY EYES NEVER ALLOW ME TO FORGET.
I CURSE TIME,
BECAUSE,
TIME SNATCHES IT,
WHENEVER, LOVE I GET.........
C-onvert the seekers,
D-ifferent men and women
C-ome into the fold.
Topic: Birthday of Cesar Dela Cruz (March 10)
Form: Haikustic
Just the other day
The vultures pounced on him
They cornered and beat him
He begged for mercy
But the vultures were thirsty
For blood and money
Just because they found
Four joints in his pocket
Dear ghetto
Why do we get malice
Whenever we cry for justice?
Does a man deserve injustice
For smoking herb in a chalice?
.
Ahhh
picture I
yesss
the one you know
and love
late in the dark
cold wet night
SNATCH
Ahhh
yessss
as mine throat gurggles
and my dark dead green burly cloak
consumes her sight
Ahhh
who would imagine
her warm flesh
locked to mine
and her without fright
Poor dear
THE SNATCH OF SLEEP
Sleep deprivation to a mind-
is worse than the abuse of drugs..
it makes you delusional...
unable to clearly distinguish-
between truths, fantasy and illusions....
a rested mind is always..
good for your own sake..
better see to it that..
that you are not negleting-
the sweet adventures of lala land..
as you toil for your daily bread.
Lewis k Nyaga
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