African writers – Page 3

Stories of the Drone Children

Beats and bombs lament this world

In depths of pain

encrusted with insignia of war

children born lacking innocence

Believe me,

pain and despair, all for new souls

nothing left but depths of pain

encrusted to this bible called the internet

We, children always born without hope

Just hopeless, believe me

Like worms in belly

unknown to me

This war you bring tears me up

gun shells leaving my wells dry

Gradually, slowly

until starvation and famine

finally eats me up

Another child of the drone

lost to the silence of a dying world.

Afresh

Like twisted arrow

I seek a reversal

Acting like new never made me better

In sync with the manic of nature

I act like I’m told

Watched my devil violin

Singing along, I caught myself

Stop,

stop it!

Just saw my family tree

Just seen my spirit line

Made me smile

Made cry

Knowing my blood flowed

Like a twisted sense of humor

I know my creator watched me run in circle

Signs

Morning come

Money go

Honey,

Run!

I had severe warnings

from childhood memories,

to the dealings of the world

Eyes bleeding

stoned by a friend

I had severe warnings

Money snatched

Tricked by another

Severe warnings

Life was singing to me

Calling in, ringing in

Refusing to listen

I plugged into aloof

Myself only

The world was me

Until it wasn’t

Huts and Wars

It’s a table for all

More than twelve ordained

Every order gets left behind

When the world moves

Truth become lies

When the priests forgets time

Masses get caught between

The snake and bull

The virgin and the herdsmen

Her Energy depleting

Sapped

Slapped

Tapped

Sucked

Her energy rising

From where?

Maybe

the Unborn

And her living dead

In the Wild

I came from the green and leaves

Sand, water and mud

Hide, thick like Loxodonta Africana

Skin, black like the infinite abyss

Years dusted away with the beast

Out west, a man without a mission changes

I came from the forgotten places

A little past the the now bleeding Congo

where end time dragons pester and plunder

full circle when you recollect

Of wood and sugar

Across the desert, they came

Face slapped with an imported cross

Two ancient horned beasts

leading the blind to the valley for slaughter

white robe floating on elevated water

Destroying my own pigment

While exporting my own heart

false narrative

twisted tongue

Mind castrated

herstory forsaken

The land of the big waves ridden

with cancer

…

The taste of black for so long

in the world tasted bitter

No one cares for us

Souls scattered across the Atlantic

….

Now,

I seek mine and mine only

Culture belonging to me

Lands inherited from oral history

Blur!

His mind was gone

Sitting or standing

Alternating

between gravity and falling

An imbalance

I saw the blood stains plastered on his brown pants

Tethered black jacket

Knuckles white glistening

As he stood up

I knew this was not his exit

Yet, he got up

Wobbled to the large front doors

Got close

Then his feet failed

Slowly, he swayed back

into a bed of water

Or I think

Coz remember his mind was gone

Sitting or standing

Alternating

between here and some other place in my memory

Another Lifetime

In my heart, I hear the beat

The final word

An end, I must tell you

Yet when I’m close

I have no words

to connect, to combine

My own fear, keeping me safe

I must assume

The hurt, the memories

Circumvents to a past story

The early rain, hail storm sweeping

drowned our young love

Before we picked up for safety

flood emergency!

Both swirling down into the dam

My eyes circling, spinning

never holding onto the truth

…

I move an inch

another false start

Lies, I tell you

Sweet bytes, you reply

Tell me more, I sing

Tell me many more, you harmonize

Healing we can attain

through body resistance

Heat perspiration, we agree

After friction, summer heat

Passages and ridges

Satisfaction never reaching the port

Another fight ensues

….

Now tell me how do we build back?

Our foundation rocked by passing air

I take account to my many bad ways

ways: cold and closed

Those parts I never gave out

Stuck, hoping I forget

though I must move on now

From this tale that ended too soon

I have fluttered between the lines of imported identity and every day I continue to dabble in and out of a constrained line of thought. Growing into this man, I clearly see both my weakness and the lines that should be crossed. At this point I can not boldly say I revere in the sunken state of this blue light that filters through pixelated devices. There is an arrogance I hold, unneeded at sometimes. I need to let go of the darkness that surrounds me. I need some of form of light to balance my thought…….