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Maratis Moses Poem
Camp rape before we were deported.
Camouflage, the only identity of whom had her pregnant.
I bet my exile, not even bribes were executed.
A sin not a crime, the heart carries the statement.
See, evil servant will not leave footprints in the crime scene.
Evidence collected before we was aborted.
Light died, blackness is not haunted.
Term of manipulation, they never cared.
So well brainwashed, we were not scared
Errands the other side had inward more progressed.
The whole thing is a project.
Deeds of subjects cover pockets.
Egos fed with politics over the budget.
Disease for the job, another honor for a donor
Son of the soil, a handful harvest of Bohemia.
You fell for what the artist depicted?
Eat it, the doctor instructed.
Reversed expiry date, appetite had us distrusted.
A puzzle that cannot be completed.
You do not have to come back and apologize for being wanted.
A witness to crimes not reported
Looks like locks broken, a library that remains open.
Black token, clearly different how white spoken.
"Audi alter-am sine prejudice" the true advert was stolen.
The people, please.
Copyright © Maratis Moses | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Maratis Moses Poem
Back at the back,
she was not,
hot.
Good a lot,
loved the most.
Bus station,
off at the station.
Lost.
'My only station,
is she lost?
Bush sided gravel road,
to our help..
faced, phased was face,
dominance, supremacy,
look of a highness.
"Miss",
to where, shall this body meet the head,
primary teacher.
"head,
the meat on the bone...
A whisper of humbleness,
...do you, mind, think less than taking you there?...
too go there"
Us side by self.
Gate to which we come is long,
in short,
call thankfulness shots.
(beat)
Again,
different direction.
Again,
same direction.
Names,
forgot to mention.
Introduction,,
then the station.
Transportation,
only city, our destination.
Copyright © Maratis Moses | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Maratis Moses Poem
The left arm is for the king.
The right arm is for the Kid.
Image of the scar.
He is my king,
Grown up,The Kid.
Point of the pen, ball.
Or kingdom of kingdoms.
White drugs on rice.
The design that pores into absolute blackness.
From the capital avocado forest in the eastern part of the pulpit of Africa.
Far, far up the mountains of Pigg's Peak,
down golden Lufafa Mountain.
Swati in Greek!
We are heritage.
Copyright © Maratis Moses | Year Posted 2017
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