Details |
Isaiah Otieno Poem
Of what color is a rose without petals?
Is it not?
A cloudy window of imagination or reminisces of a moribund love?
Of what scent is a rose without ‘wings’?
For in the sweet rich pinkish color, we savored the breath of a life
And in the pulpit, the preacher declared with candor, a conferment of our promise
For what reasons are your secrets so hidden like the anger of a calm sea?
Those little cancerous sores that keep your heart bleeding
When the town sleeps, your sobs drown the tranquil of the night
Of what reasons are your tears so stinging?
Leaving your eyes a shadow of their radiance on the day of our wedding
You have betrayed the innocence of my hands?
That lifted your face of the veil before the priest
And unto those who bore witness to our solemn procession.
Down the aisle
Shall we repeat our vows?
That-
Our love shall endure, all seasons; and for all reasons.
That like flowers of the spring; our faces shall glow in radiance
But your ways, are not the ways of love Vanessa
Am always filled with veneration for you
But
How do I see beyond your gloom?
Because every new day, your smile dies into its gradual paucity
Painful tears of your eyes wets your bosom with every rising sun,
You set my mind reeling back in time
The earth beneath me, and forth my feet, swim in pirouette
And I shall not stand anymore
Tomorrow, I will leave with the first cock’s crow:
I shall leave in the endeavor of my destiny
I shall leave.
I shall leave a rose without petals.
Copyright © Isaiah Otieno | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Isaiah Otieno Poem
Away my soul suspends into the thin air
As I drool away the day, lying in the lair
Waiting for the diamond rays of the sun sinking below the earth far away
Chirping crickets; and the curly motions of the evening birds takes my soul away
Chorus of mystery drowns my silent sobs
Golden and pacific, the moon grows aglow in grandeur atop the hills
Slimy like a snail it crawls among the army of silvery chariots dotting the sky,
A little voice creeps from the belly of darkness
Saying in low monotones;
Only the tales of sadness
‘Cherie is lost in into a stretch so endless’
She made her maiden journey into a voyage so tumultuous; when she closed her eyes in paleness
Her epitaph is now giving way to age.
Cherie drifted with the winds away into the distant lands of her own
A new day shall never dawn with Cherie perched on her favorite chair playing on the piano
Cherie will never again play her favorite note.
I will only watch in a dream, Cherie doing the ballet
From your unknown courts of royalty,
Your silvery costumes shall rewrite our fairy tales of the time gone by.
I’ll recite you, our maiden love poem
Even ‘it’ takes millions of miles to reach you; my voice shall reach you like whispers in the wind
Like the winds of a barren earth of a desert.
Copyright © Isaiah Otieno | Year Posted 2013
|