Of Your House, Barbarian! (POEM)


Who hears when her soul whimpers,
Who listens to the cracking sounds of her breaking heart,
Who sees her falling tears,
Who hears echoes of her groaning voice,
Who has ever imagined the feel of her aching scars?
None, none but herself.
She is not the child on a street vendors back,
She is not that street child you pass by,
She is not that old lady at the neighbor's,
Nor is she that battered wife in the newspaper,
But it is that woman, your mother whom you no longer heed,
She is your wife whom you've abandoned,
It is that young girl you are plucking away from education to marry off,
It is them from your very house.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Gem Of Black Soil

Image
Hear her speak, Its flames of wild fire burning sweet sensations down your ears, Imbued in wisdom and traditions of our ancestors, Clothed in enchantment of the blue sky.  Of her bewitching build none competes, Not the texture of the sun’s rays or that of petals of roses, Fairly not even the phenomenal tombs of pharaohs with all their might, It is just uniquely sophisticated. Talk of her character, Beautiful and heavenly, As the display of shiny pearls which populate the skies at night, As the glow on one’s face ignited by genuine happiness. She is a splendid gem, A woman of Africa, Of beauty kneaded from black earth A woman to adore!. Gerry Sikazwe Model: Angelina Shamz Picture Credit: Lobe Musonda
Read more

You Should Have Listened

Winds spoke, Ears deaf, heed not, Winds sung, Stony hearts, leaped not, Winds cried, Hateful souls, cared not, Lightening with anger now strikes, It flashes with wrath of wild fire, Sun burns today ferociously, It scorches as hunger bites a child`s belly, You should have listened that time, That time when the messenger  was love. Gerry Sikazwe
Read more

Shadows (POEM)

Image
Are they scorched souls of men, Are they the evil part of every breathing man, Shadows, what are they? Are they demons loosed from hell beneath to haunt us, Are they angels in dark skins to walk with us, Shadows, what are you? Are they guides, sent to us, from our fallen ancestors, Are they spirits of the dead, or the unborn looking for bodies to posses, Shadows, what are they? Shadows, Either small or huge, Teach us always in light to walk, And show us that selflessness is a lane possible to walk in. They are nothing than truest friends, Shadows, our own.
Read more