Poetry with an african reverberations

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By Christian Mowarin poetry playbook 5

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Poetry with an afrikan reverberations

Transcript of Poetry with an african reverberations

Page 1: Poetry with an african reverberations

By Christian Mowarin

poetry playbook5

Page 2: Poetry with an african reverberations

Today we fly

Today we fight

Fight for the race to begin

A fight of life, a fight to live

The trace of unification

Of the strength of our kind

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enveloped in a new philosophy

Apprehend bad tendencies and urgencies

Bite to a new hope and dream

let out our cries and shape

A new generation to come

Christian Mowarin

For my mother, clara

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maidensofndokwa

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Here�they�come�theGolden�maidens�of�NdokwaSmiles�like�onionPeels�nearly�slashedDimples�newly�punchedSteps�gracefully�slantNeck�fully�graffittiedOur�queens,�My�queensWe�live�in�a�sweet�world

Here�they�come,�theLadies�of�the�eastern�lightHair�oily�shone�with�the�palmWaist�neatly�packedBeads�carefully�manicuredWings�purely�featheredBody�beautifully�adornedFingers�a�palette�of�huesOur�queens,�My�queensWe�live�in�a�sweet�world

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thismadbeautyofmine

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This�mad�beauty�in�meSometimes�I�wonderDare�to�ask�onceThis�madness�in�beautifulHues�leads�me�nowhereLeads�me�to�rebirthNor�consultationOnly�humiliationThis�mad�beautyI�intend�to�rub�offWith�a�new�colorTo�fade�away�in�times

This�mad�beautyStuck�so�much�in�meWorks�not�for�mePaints�not�my�newsRenders�me�in�greysNot�in�brillianceOf�cool�blues�or�cluesThis�made�beautyI�intend�to�rub�offWith�a�new�charcoalTo�black�away�in�night

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adrifttosunsetland

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Don't�ask�me�whyBut�am�going�to�drift�landWhere�sunset�and�orangePlay�the�acrylic�concerto�Where�Water�cloud�take�cold�showersI�am�tired�of�this�subhuman�minorityIt�smells�of�too�much�bad�scienceIt�needs�warmth�badlyMy�backyard�hurts�badlyI�remember�vividlySomeone�brought�in�the�coldCan�I�borrow�yr�sunset�tooTo�keep�me�warm�too

Please�find�a�placeIn�your�vision�to�forgive�meFor�i�have�wrong�your�genreleaving�you�stone�cold�for�goodMy�mind's�arrantly�made�up�Whose�going�to�play�your�expressionAnd�your�mind�blowing�poetryWith�all�the�naive�chemistry�goneI�know�its�hurts�and�difficult�toobut�its�for�my�own�authenticityI�remember�vividlySomeone�took� �the�lightsawayCan�I�borrow�your�embers�To�keep�me�warm�too

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heydarkman

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Hey�Mr�DarkmanWhere�are�you�going�nowWhere�is�that�gunIn�your�hand�going�tooIs�it�really�good�to�goOr�is�it�good�to�disappoint�You�again

Hey�mr�darkmanWhere�are�you�goingWith�all�that�guiltspread�across�in�your�handIs�it�good�in�your�heartOr�it�it�ready�to�make�you�Guilty�again

Hey�darkmanHow�are�you�goingTo�live�the�resultsIn�your�existenceor�are�you�going�tokeep�running�the�unknownonly�to�remain�dark

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theredhillsofnostalgia

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Your�sunshineShines�brightIt�shows�me�lightYou�gave�me�colorWhen�there's�greyOnly�To�see

My�mind�is�darkBut�You�love�meFar�far�away

Away�all�the�way

You�will�need�toBe�strong�becauseMy�heart�is�strongYou�will�alwaysNeed�a�touch�lightTo�see�through�theDark�beauty�written�

Right�in�me��But�You�love�meFar�far�away

Away�all�the�way����������

Light�flies�With�all�the�firefliesBitten�bad�by�the�biteHeight�is�my�light

Highlights�in�my�flightWhat�is�it�with�youWith�wild�so�with�youThe�way�to�my�sparkIs�still��badly�brokenBut�You�love�meFar�far�away

Away�all�the�way

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crossroads

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We�grew�up�wild�and�strongIn�a�vast�land�of�emptiness�Filled�to�the�brim�with�soaked�saltMy�brother�and�meWe�would�wade�for�milesThrough�the�warm�swampWith�the�eels�having�a�filled�dayOn�our�native�bloodThe�mudskippers�skipping�to�safety��I�was�born�right�to�fightThought�never�I�could�fall

Now�we�came�to�a�crossroadNo�signs�all�around�the�deepWe�are�men�whose�timeHave�crumbled�and�rolled�backSince�the�day�opened�up�to�usScents�of�decayed�foliageSouls�have�left�us�barrenThe�trees��razed�downFast�to�the�bitter�ground

We�knew�not�where�the�sagaLead�us�before�the�early�sunriseNow�sunset�crawl�over�our�headsTried�the�drama�acts�to�seeBut�mercy�stayed�far�far�offIn�a�sacrifice�in�the�burnt�edgeLike�a�midday�epileptic�judgementDeath�met�us�in�a�willing�stormCarrying�our�sadness�in�a�horseDistant�lights�bade�farewell�To�the�lonely�souls�that�met�the�howl

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decayedhope

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The�evening�artist's�jobOn�the�sunset�is�mediocreHis�pastel�stroke�openly�blindA�nostalgic�retro�paintworkfor�a�sad�mind�planeA�bad�day�for�a�bad�jobA�bad�job�for�a�new�dayComing�real�fast

Only�read�on�battle�storybooksTelling�fast�on�a�new�realmThe�diction�is�beginning�to�go�weirdWill�it��be�difficult�to�tell�when�its�finished?Everyday�stroke�for�the�strongNone�for�the�weak�crayolasWho's�week�is�often�broken

They�recognise�his�voiceBut�they�just�wont�burgeTheir�illustrations�made�of�stoneStones�etched�for�long�fortressesAlways�be�exposed�somedayTo�what�happens�nextThe�next�tale,�a�chopped�oneBut�again�their�mis-stepIs�our�next�step�to�follow.

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mycolorspeaks

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The�colour�speaks�to�meIn�it's�glory�and�spreadThe�blackness�not�a�problemTo�behold�and�engender�Do�you�see�colour�in�ethnicityNot�anyone�I�know�ofSway�to�the�rich�magicTo�The�power�so�strongIt's�bold�texture�outstands�allWho�dare�to�strike�itUnbelievably�mystical

Take�out�your�brushesPaint�meticulously�in�blackSwing�the�strokes�likeA�masters�weeping�whipToday's�the�day�we�fightFight�for�the�race�to�beginThe�trace�of�unificationFight�for�the�strengthWith�a�blend�of�real�depthin�a�new�philosophy�Apprehend�bad�tendencies�and�urgenciesBite�to�a�new�hope�and�dreamFor�a�generation�to�come

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treepeople

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Who�are�these�peoplewith�obvious�long�facesBlack�bright�in�the�darkGrown�with�age�and�acheHanged�with�anger�and�tree�crackswho�are�these�little�faithswith�lacking�creativityAnd�minds�of�unholy�hopesBad�dreams�in�a�clay�earthenware�Engraved�in�their�own�sterm

My�father�he�was�a�new�manHe�has�seen�them�tooAnd�he�showed�them�to�meSwing�from�the�dagogo�treesWhen�he�was�a�monkey�hunterOne�arm�after�anotherSecretly�sliping�secrets�of�the�ancestorsIn�a�jar�made�of�obeche�barkLike�a�bad�and�broken�lieIn�a�pot�of�rafia�colorwith�beautiful��bitterness

Are�they�the�ones�disapprovedBy�the�gods�to�lead�usRather�away�from�the�truthOf�the�rot�that�has�become�of�usTo�take�away�the�balance�andGizmo�rhythms�that�holds�usTo�put�a�blade�on�the�stringsThat�really�connects�usSo�we�wont�breatheIn�the�summers�to�come�

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yourway

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I��have�seen�the�way�you�actWhen�you�fall�hell�flatwhen�the�harmattans�comeWith�the�gentle�cold�heart�like�A�maiden's�waist�as�sheDances�to�the�bleak�drums

i�have�seen�the�wa�you�loo�with�those�petalle�eyes�of�yours�that�clings�so�muchto�your�brown�facethat�ting�of�smile�thatplays�little�wind�in�the�cornersof�your�lip�gloss�lines

i�have�seen�the�way�you�danceespecially�to�the�music�ofmy�immaculate�imaginationthat�brilliant�energy�you�sprinkle�away�in�timethat�motionic�madnessYou�cuddle�like�a�life

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an oxygen paperback

July 2010

By Christian Mowarinall rights reserved @2013