African writers – Page 10

2am // moments

Nights like this
Neon light dimmed right
Gets me thinkin of you
Yeah you dressed in sun flower
Yeah i remember us
That night you danced on me
Yeah i remember your body
The way your hips moved, swayed
Spoke to me without even moving your lips
I know, i know
I never called you
Never reached you
Never drove to you
Yeah that, but i keep missing you
We were lovers that never kissed
Yeah my loss, you said
My loss but i cant stop hoping
Believing I’ll get you back
Yeah i see the new guy
Yeah but tell me who holds your heart?
Who mine?
Who saw you beyond that smile
The way i wrote my heart down for you
Yeah nights like this
Always hit me hard
Yeah no other but you
Got me writing to you
And, i hope you see this
So, you know a piece of me i never showed

No Face // Kaonashi

Who am I?

Looking at the mirror

I have no clue

Though I know me

Me as in, myself

But when I look

I see blank

Where is happiness?

I mean the pursuit of it

I am trying

Trying to find me

Though all is blank

Blank with no face

Old Soldier, New War

During the times that have come by, I pray for war to come. Not these new modern warfare. The old kind. Those ones stationed between battle noise and mud trenches. The zipping sounds of mortars, as empty bullet shells illuminate the blood heavy war terrain. Soldier boots marching through old places that were once called new homes.

Yes, I pray night and day. Night and day! Yes, for at night sleep refuses me and tosses me in between my past memories and a future I remain nameless.

………………………………..

These drones are empty vessels. They are transporters of bad news and death. For our souls do hunger for a reason to accept sleep, but no! Not these ones. These silent birds made with fiber like materials only look down, fall flat, and never return up.

Like thin dots silently scattered.

Only if your hands be wide as the oceans floors and you bring them together then one might see how much these dots have cost us.

…………………………………

I grow sick by the hour. Every hour eaten in silence. Every chance taken just to remain still. I grow deeper into my own anger. Madness beckons daringly close ….and I fear I will welcome it back home.

Commander Bull. ENTRY #204881

Battlefront Shagari Sector, Year 2098

Simple Moments // Addis Ababa Origins (i)

At night

Words come out easier

Hence, let me paint a moment

A sunny afternoon, it was

Stomach rumbling

Hunger, probably

No, definitely

Fast food or local grub?

Some ribs for the soul

Not vegan?

Personally, mentally

not there yet

Sitting there outside, beneath the shade

Munching like I’d smoked some green

Maybe?

Who knows?

Only I, of course

Reeling forward

Bite after bite, cave man style

Mango juice drinking, getting full

Spring season, sprinting by

There, caught in that second,

I see her, sight her

Her scent?

Too far, she was

Her, waiting for the 67 bus

Standing there, someone I must now

Her skin furnace shining,

Her beauty diamond demanding

Goddess, she is

Go talk to her?

What?

Me?

Yes!

We, my mind replies

Two minutes of gathering courage

Cleaned my act, face wiped away cowardice

Standing up, her view in front

Gradually, I pick up pace

The closer I approach

The further back my words run away

Up close now,

Lavender, subtle scent

Natural spring, somewhere in Addis Ababa

Shea butter, her scent I mean

She turns, my heart stops

Her eyes piercing mine, curious

Words

Words, where at thou?

Staring, she keeps

You hungry? I manage

What? She stares puzzled

Jesu Christi!

Yeah lunch, you hungry? I persevere

For a second,

her face brightens

Will you go away afterwards? She asks

Yes, I will definitely go away into space after a moment with you

More sunshine, her glow brightening………

Yeah at night

These simple moments come to mind faster

Although morning comes by rising, bird whistling

Another night,

Continuation maybe?

African Days Vision

In five years,

Sipping kunu, no processed drinks

Just sunshine, close to the beach

Possibly Cape Town?

Uganda or maybe suburban Lekki?

In five years,

Sitting, newspaper flipping

Tilapia on burner,

sizzling,

getting flipped

Beautiful music played on vinyl

King Sunny Ade, high life soaking

In five years,

I picture myself blessed with love

Away from the towers and rusts

Back home in huts and on red soils

Savannah nights experienced daily,

Freely, and

brightly

Thinking Out Loud

Another heated day in Babylon’s grip, trapped
Living in a newly created generation: impatient
Birds; programmed; hidden, parading the middle-eastern skies, hunting
Tower tips still reaching up high, God vexing
Oxygen circulated, stagnant in dense smoky air: toxicity
Plants replacing, chemical mass murdering: stomach lynching
Stress filled disease spread, screen-coated as breaking news; shortened memory
Mechanical sounds screeching down below, disorderly
Dollar emoji’s stamped on flicking hands; vanity feeding
Truth, sweetly twisted into diamond fantasies, man-made blasphemy

I, swamped,
amidst these genocide happenings, skin deep battles
I, just another
Bini skinned man, walking,
freedom searching, motherland tunes singing
I, just another
sun touched man
thinking out loud in Babylon’s gaze; uncannily

Third Person (Voice)

You know after all this; the constant pressure to succeed or fail, the pressure to fake a smile or a frown, the pressure to find one or another, or the constant looks from the street judges, there I am (moi). Standing there or maybe walking with my back turned, I look strange just walking, fighting my through another man’s time. I know that’s contemporary life; “you work to live,” but where is my own time?

The elites might know, I mean I toil for them everyday. They should know something, right?

Where am I in this ‘scatta’ ‘scatta’ mess?

Have you seen me lately?

I think I’m lost, missing in action

So is my voice lost in this strictly commercialized noise?

Oh well there it goes again, echoing away my soul

I can’t hear it, even if I lean further, it has gone too far, or am I too far away?

After all this motion and more motion

Where am I?

Where is my voice?

I think I might have to shout much more louder to get it back. Reach for the stars, they say!

no longer at ease

Future Angels

Too far into your present
Never back to the past
Count your seeds of harvest
Intact with your bag of motives
Ride with your train of passion
Else, get stuck with an unneeded religion
A night to recollect your thoughts
The music of pain never sounded so smooth
Like the flow of water
Gulp your sins, and
Quench your thirst for misery