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Omenge Nyamato Poem
Heaven must yield to glory
Accept our orphaned children
Come light gentle bathe
These black forgotten corridors
Distorted images of death
Dance imperious before our eyes
Struggling to live right
Surviving the darkened dread
In the calm balm of amnesia
We float in carefree laughter
Defying the anchoring ache
Inhaling expectant death
Exhaling desired life
Walking the dichotomous path
Twinned joy and pain
Offspring at heaven’s door
Inheritors lost upon this earth
Seeking to reclaim the future
Bastard products of despair
We live in the dark alleys of history
The sunless realms of loneliness
The blind lanes of misery
Mystic impossibility
We claim divine birth rights
Watching deep into midnight
For the promised sunrise
Insipid timid reality
In disfigured disguise
Life is stone and bone
For the children of paradise
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
I speak to you in parables
In this idiomatic riddle filled way
Because I fear the blunt effect
Of being plain spoken
I saw the rainbow and the sun
In the words they uttered
I felt the hot breath of certainty
In the rise of the collective sigh
I sensed the rich aroma of promise
In the feasts of their colorful fiesta
I saw you fall for the poetry
In the juxta-positioning of words
In the lyrical simplicity of their promise
In the elegant catch phrases of victory
The swift ascent of their ambitions
Caught in the undergarments of our shame
Embarrassed by the exposure
You chose to wait and wait
And you sang and sang
Laughed the bitter ironic laughter
Composed elegy and dirge
Prepared for the next upheaval
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
Did you know the Gecko cannot blink ?
No I did not, but it sounds alluring that image
Of a focused lizard reptilian in glorious intent
From hide bound tail to protruding cheeks and jowl
So I blink, too tired to contemplate the enemy who stalks
Unruly neighbor holding night long juice jointed jamborees
Where alcohol steams the atmosphere with its truth venom
Inhaling vapours that create this courage that carries cowards
Yes I will blink, sleep deprived laborer courting reluctant pens
Refusing to yield hidden gems and buried treasures like jade
And tanzanite blue rhythms that accompany melodies and dirges
Legend has it that only the cry of the lion is met with sympathy
That of the lamb actions firing coals and flaring wood piles
Eager to consume flesh of the flesh returning it to the soil
Crosses are only temporary and sting in Easter
If carried by the many Simons that dot our unholy lives
Mother was the first and most enduring taken for granted
Only Gecko’s know the patient denuding effects of focus
Turning this pages that refuse to yield riches
And daily only seem to offer me
The menses of aborted dreams
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
The field is full and the crowd is primed
Scream and cries rent the air electric
The mood is part sacrifice part slaughter
The smell of ritual repentance hangs heavy
Defeat floats around caressing the fringes
The bell clangs in preparatory adjudication
Sweet science of massacre in full flight
Adrenaline rivers rush and over flow
Bursting dams of timid cowardice
Fear grips tight in vicious vice
Blood tastes tease molars and pallets
Blood drops singe hearts like bullets
The countdown is on and Cain is raised
The frenzy is now full bedlam chaos
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
Seconds to go round 1!
Second to go round 1!
Repeats like a terrible echo
Leaden legs attempt to loosen
Arm raised with sinewy determination
Sweat drips in torrid anticipation
Months of welcoming hills and hell
Welcoming torture and torment
Welcoming bruises and bunion
Lift ! Jab ! Weave ! Hurl !
Do not drop ! Do not drop !
Just come out swinging
With everything little thing you’ve got !
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
9. MEAT MARKET
Night of the burning bush and rain
Cries of irritable babies bother
Laughter circles like vultures
Descends on heaving heads that hang
Whispers weave through the wafts
Of tightly knitted nightmares
Blotted night air heavy with hope
Haemorrhaging hearts unaware
Of the bitter biting reality
Of identical continued defeat
Swords unsheathed from scabbard
Eat into willing rented flesh
Dogs excrete and recreate
Cats prowl in delighted victory
Buses hoot in the distance
Approach imaginary final stops
Loaded with cargo and cacophony
Night is king every day
Light is illusion and ignorance
Hope is in abundance everywhere
That corner café and karaoke
That vegetable seller and cake mixer
Everything is vortex and vile
Spiralling in never ending repetition
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
Dense implosion of infinite desire
Dead to the sensual stirrings
Events search
Stretch for eager horizons
Blackness
Blackens the mood and raises spirits
Times spaces
Interregnums of intense longing
Hang limply on half uttered words
Pleading eyes call to the stars
Summon the traveling muse
Half dead moons and resurrecting galaxies
Milky in ways you cannot imagine
Gravity
Pulls with inimitable redoubt
Rotating doors of wondrous probing
Earth fire is molten
Baking the inner sanctums
Raising internal set points
Feverish flourish of action
Gyrating to the fulsome Rhumba
Peppering staccato of Saturdays
Dancing delirious
Exorcising gargantuan ghosts
Of tall imposing dreams
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
She came with that deviant half frown and half smile
Casting those glances that shoot out searching victims
Caressing untended desires live like sprouting tendrils
Hers was the musty warmth of the resurrecting dew
She drew me into the cloven traps without uttering a word
As I slipped on one of those careless glances and fell headlong
Into the open chasm of her sensual indifference
Flapping as I fell regaled by her haunting laughter
Crying for the safe landing of those peach smooth bosoms
Flailing and falling fast descending into this abyss
Of careless bottomless eyes that hid so much
And yet revealed everything like vultures hovering
Far above carcasses they look like soaring eagles
Save me now mother hen of providence am innocent
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2016
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Omenge Nyamato Poem
I live in every man's struggles.
I lose myself in the crowd;
Everyone has a story of loss,
Of a childhood that ended abruptly,
Transmogrified into juvenile gods,
Worshipping, genuflecting, reacting,
Pale with the anguish of bent backs.
And every man lives in me,
As I in him, today and yesterday;
Ancestors and inheritors, possessors,
Crossing oceans, discovering realms,
Absorbing losses, sensing kinship
In the spurting blood of the enemy,
Enemy men, who say goodbye forever
To the children and mothers left behind.
I see myself in every man, even the enemy;
In the war cry, the final guttural effort
To resist the pale-faced smallpox carrier.
Copyright © Omenge Nyamato | Year Posted 2024
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