By Christian Mowarin
5
poetry playbook
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
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
maidensofndokwa
Here they come the Golden maidens of Ndokwa Smiles like onion Peels nearly slashed Dimples newly punched Steps gracefully slant Neck fully graffittied Our queens, My queens We live in a sweet world Here they come, the Ladies of the eastern light Hair oily shone with the palm Waist neatly packed Beads carefully manicured Wings purely feathered Body beautifully adorned Fingers a palette of hues Our queens, My queens We live in a sweet world
thismadbeautyofmine
This mad beauty in me Sometimes I wonder Dare to ask once This madness in beautiful Hues leads me nowhere Leads me to rebirth Nor consultation Only humiliation This mad beauty I intend to rub off With a new color To fade away in times This mad beauty Stuck so much in me Works not for me Paints not my news Renders me in greys Not in brilliance Of cool blues or clues This made beauty I intend to rub off With a new charcoal To black away in night
adrifttosunsetland
Don't ask me why But am going to drift land Where sunset and orange Play the acrylic concerto Where Water cloud take cold showers I am tired of this subhuman minority It smells of too much bad science It needs warmth badly My backyard hurts badly I remember vividly Someone brought in the cold Can I borrow yr sunset too To keep me warm too Please find a place In your vision to forgive me For i have wrong your genre leaving you stone cold for good My mind's arrantly made up Whose going to play your expression And your mind blowing poetry With all the naive chemistry gone I know its hurts and difficult too but its for my own authenticity I remember vividly Someone took away the lights Can I borrow your embers To keep me warm too
heydarkman
Hey Mr Darkman Where are you going now Where is that gun In your hand going too Is it really good to go Or is it good to disappoint You again Hey mr darkman Where are you going With all that guilt spread across in your hand Is it good in your heart Or it it ready to make you Guilty again Hey darkman How are you going To live the results In your existence or are you going to keep running the unknown only to remain dark
theredhillsofnostalgia
Your sunshine Shines bright It shows me light You gave me color When there's grey Only To see My mind is dark But You love me Far far away Away all the way You will need to Be strong because My heart is strong You will always Need a touch light To see through the Dark beauty written Right in me But You love me Far far away Away all the way Light flies With all the fireflies Bitten bad by the bite Height is my light Highlights in my flight What is it with you With wild so with you The way to my spark Is still badly broken But You love me Far far away Away all the way
crossroads
We grew up wild and strong In a vast land of emptiness Filled to the brim with soaked salt My brother and me We would wade for miles Through the warm swamp With the eels having a filled day On our native blood The mudskippers skipping to safety I was born right to fight Thought never I could fall Now we came to a crossroad No signs all around the deep We are men whose time Have crumbled and rolled back Since the day opened up to us Scents of decayed foliage Souls have left us barren The trees razed down Fast to the bitter ground We knew not where the saga Lead us before the early sunrise Now sunset crawl over our heads Tried the drama acts to see But mercy stayed far far off In a sacrifice in the burnt edge Like a midday epileptic judgement Death met us in a willing storm Carrying our sadness in a horse Distant lights bade farewell To the lonely souls that met the howl
decayedhope
The evening artist's job On the sunset is mediocre His pastel stroke openly blind A nostalgic retro paintwork for a sad mind plane A bad day for a bad job A bad job for a new day Coming real fast Only read on battle storybooks Telling fast on a new realm The diction is beginning to go weird Will it be difficult to tell when its finished? Everyday stroke for the strong None for the weak crayolas Who's week is often broken They recognise his voice But they just wont burge Their illustrations made of stone Stones etched for long fortresses Always be exposed someday To what happens next The next tale, a chopped one But again their mis-step Is our next step to follow.
mycolorspeaks
The colour speaks to me In it's glory and spread The blackness not a problem To behold and engender Do you see colour in ethnicity Not anyone I know of Sway to the rich magic To The power so strong It's bold texture outstands all Who dare to strike it Unbelievably mystical
Take out your brushes Paint meticulously in black Swing the strokes like A masters weeping whip Today's the day we fight Fight for the race to begin The trace of unification Fight for the strength With a blend of real depth in a new philosophy Apprehend bad tendencies and urgencies Bite to a new hope and dream For a generation to come
treepeople
Who are these people with obvious long faces Black bright in the dark Grown with age and ache Hanged with anger and tree cracks who are these little faiths with lacking creativity And minds of unholy hopes Bad dreams in a clay earthenware Engraved in their own sterm My father he was a new man He has seen them too And he showed them to me Swing from the dagogo trees When he was a monkey hunter One arm after another Secretly sliping secrets of the ancestors In a jar made of obeche bark Like a bad and broken lie In a pot of rafia color with beautiful bitterness
Are they the ones disapproved By the gods to lead us Rather away from the truth Of the rot that has become of us To take away the balance and Gizmo rhythms that holds us To put a blade on the strings That really connects us So we wont breathe In the summers to come
yourway
I have seen the way you act When you fall hell flat when the harmattans come With the gentle cold heart like A maiden's waist as she Dances to the bleak drums i have seen the wa you loo with those petalle eyes of yours that clings so much to your brown face that ting of smile that plays little wind in the corners of your lip gloss lines i have seen the way you dance especially to the music of my immaculate imagination that brilliant energy you sprinkle away in time that motionic madness You cuddle like a life
an oxygen paperback July 2010
By Christian Mowarin all rights reserved @2013