By Wisdom Mumera
A rumble in my loins and their stares crucify me
Their heavy eyes wielding biting lashes
Their mouths laden with frothing invectives
Obscene lightning searing.
I try and mellow into the folds of staid shadows
Still I carry a feeling different
That always make me jut out from the staid plains
Pricking out from the flaccid bosoms.
Now man of hell come wielding axes
Against any engorged member
Who tries to impregnate into life
This impotent savanna ridge, stuffed full
Of yesterday’s semen.
Resolutions
When the new day comes
And a sun with clean palms
I don’t want to sound grey
Neither do I need to bray.
A clean smile will I paste
To greet the day first
Then to shower upon all around
Leaving them to, in joy, abound
By the time the sky turns orange
Sadness and will view me as strange
And when finally sleeps arrives
I will be ready for her arms. ©
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