Kwach - Hello Poetry

They are cuddling, a softness that drapes itself over the heart Gentle coils of comfort, slow wrap, tender circles… Whoosh that comes in low, fibrous breaths “Listen,” they say, “I am here to ease you” But grip upon grip, that almost-snap The gentleness sharpens into a choke the moment I lean in They press against my ribs, and the body, and the soul But still they croon soft promises, “stay, be still, let me hold you” They curl around my lungs in loving shapes And steal the very air they claim to calm The tender loops are tightening nooses that insists I stay where I am They whisper a comfort I can’t refuse, like stillness is home The binding is gentle, and I crave the very grip that comes Because there is nothing beyond them worth reaching for The suffocation is the closest thing to comfort I deserve.

0

Nov 28, 2025

Nov 28, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC

Ropes

They are cuddling, a softness that drapes itself over the heart Gentle coils of comfort, slow wrap, tender circles… Whoosh that comes in low, fibrous breaths “Listen,” they say, “I am here to ease you” But grip upon grip, that almost-snap The gentleness sharpens into a choke the moment I lean in They press against my ribs, and the body, and the soul But still they croon soft promises, “stay, be still, let me hold you” They curl around my lungs in loving shapes And steal the very air they claim to calm The tender loops are tightening nooses that insists I stay where I am They whisper a comfort I can’t refuse, like stillness is home The binding is gentle, and I crave the very grip that comes Because there is nothing beyond them worth reaching for The suffocation is the closest thing to comfort I deserve.

15

Along the endless dusty path The ants moved in caravan, one after another They did not stray, nor speak of freedom Only the hush of precision, humility, and obedience The whole line bowed like reeds in wind And where the road broke or an obstacle rose They did not gnaw, nor rage, nor climb the height But curved around it, smooth and flawless And when the stream forked into twin threads Each sought the other, and paths entwined again Those behind traced the bend without question On the circular trail with neither start nor end But one ant, small beneath the weight of sun Veered from the line, for reasons none could tell Perhaps it smelled sweetness in the nearby grass Or dreamed the world wider than the narrow creed It wandered, briefly bold, just a little off track But soon the dust turned strange beneath its feet The wind couldn’t guide it back, the ground no sign It turned back, frantic, chasing the ghost of a line Longing for the drumbeat, the comfort of many And when at last it slipped into the stream It tore the rhythm, each scrambled to reclaim their place None turned to greet it, none aligned behind It paused, turned back to the exile once called home Out of step, it watched the caravan flow on Then peeled away, slow and alone Returning to the soft wilderness of its mistake

0

Jul 1, 2025

Jul 1, 2025 at 8:18 AM UTC

The Ant

Along the endless dusty path The ants moved in caravan, one after another They did not stray, nor speak of freedom Only the hush of precision, humility, and obedience The whole line bowed like reeds in wind And where the road broke or an obstacle rose They did not gnaw, nor rage, nor climb the height But curved around it, smooth and flawless And when the stream forked into twin threads Each sought the other, and paths entwined again Those behind traced the bend without question On the circular trail with neither start nor end But one ant, small beneath the weight of sun Veered from the line, for reasons none could tell Perhaps it smelled sweetness in the nearby grass Or dreamed the world wider than the narrow creed It wandered, briefly bold, just a little off track But soon the dust turned strange beneath its feet The wind couldn’t guide it back, the ground no sign It turned back, frantic, chasing the ghost of a line Longing for the drumbeat, the comfort of many And when at last it slipped into the stream It tore the rhythm, each scrambled to reclaim their place None turned to greet it, none aligned behind It paused, turned back to the exile once called home Out of step, it watched the caravan flow on Then peeled away, slow and alone Returning to the soft wilderness of its mistake

28

I have seen death with my own eyes. It had a form which was hard to comprehend; a mystery clothed in shifting shadows. But its conducts seemed humanly familiar. I only felt its rough hands seize me, pull me, and then we embarked on a journey of an impossible speed. It whispered something about comfort, telling me not to worry for we were to go to a place of eternal peace. We sped through the narrow paths of interwoven mninga trees, or something similar, and we were soon into a space of carriolis that spiralled in chaotic patterns. I could hear voices, some were hauntingly familiar, calling me by name with a tenderness that sent shivers down my non-physical spine. It was a jungle of noises, coming from all sort of places, and they clashed over my ears like winds fighting over a flame. Then this thing, this 'death', took me farther to a realm unlike anything I could have imagined. It was place of boundless expanse, full of creatures that only seemed to come from dreams and nightmares. Shapes shifted fluidly, and forms were never static. It placed me in a corner that wasn’t a corner by the sense of the word. It was an unspace where time seemed irrelevant. My body, if it could still be called that, folded in on itself, shrinking into a shape that defied anatomy. I became something small and compact, yet felt no pain. There, I witnessed myself; a stream of energy, spiraling in mesmerising cyclonic patterns. My consciousness, detached yet hyper-aware, hovered in an ethereal limbo. I wasn’t me, not in the way I had always understood. The physicality of my being was no longer there. I felt like a formless presence, a glowing spark of something alive but not physical. Days, or what felt like days, passed as I stayed trapped in that surreal confinement, my energy pulsating like a caged tempest. I felt an accumulation of power, a force so big it frightened me. It wanted to escape, to explode outward, but something greater, some higher force, held it in check. The world around me was strange. It was mix of chaos and emptiness. It had no clear form, yet it seemed full of meaning. It was like being lost and found at the same time, trapped yet somehow free. Then, suddenly, there was nothing. Everything vanished, even the energy that I had become seemed to disappear. I have seen death before. Whether it came to grant me a glimpse of the world that lies beyond or chose, in its cryptic mercy, to spare me for another day, I cannot tell. But death, of this I am certain, I have seen, and he has seen me.

0

Jan 2, 2025

Jan 2, 2025 at 5:45 AM UTC

I Have Seen Death Before

I have seen death with my own eyes. It had a form which was hard to comprehend; a mystery clothed in shifting shadows. But its conducts seemed humanly familiar. I only felt its rough hands seize me, pull me, and then we embarked on a journey of an impossible speed. It whispered something about comfort, telling me not to worry for we were to go to a place of eternal peace. We sped through the narrow paths of interwoven mninga trees, or something similar, and we were soon into a space of carriolis that spiralled in chaotic patterns. I could hear voices, some were hauntingly familiar, calling me by name with a tenderness that sent shivers down my non-physical spine. It was a jungle of noises, coming from all sort of places, and they clashed over my ears like winds fighting over a flame. Then this thing, this 'death', took me farther to a realm unlike anything I could have imagined. It was place of boundless expanse, full of creatures that only seemed to come from dreams and nightmares. Shapes shifted fluidly, and forms were never static. It placed me in a corner that wasn’t a corner by the sense of the word. It was an unspace where time seemed irrelevant. My body, if it could still be called that, folded in on itself, shrinking into a shape that defied anatomy. I became something small and compact, yet felt no pain. There, I witnessed myself; a stream of energy, spiraling in mesmerising cyclonic patterns. My consciousness, detached yet hyper-aware, hovered in an ethereal limbo. I wasn’t me, not in the way I had always understood. The physicality of my being was no longer there. I felt like a formless presence, a glowing spark of something alive but not physical. Days, or what felt like days, passed as I stayed trapped in that surreal confinement, my energy pulsating like a caged tempest. I felt an accumulation of power, a force so big it frightened me. It wanted to escape, to explode outward, but something greater, some higher force, held it in check. The world around me was strange. It was mix of chaos and emptiness. It had no clear form, yet it seemed full of meaning. It was like being lost and found at the same time, trapped yet somehow free. Then, suddenly, there was nothing. Everything vanished, even the energy that I had become seemed to disappear. I have seen death before. Whether it came to grant me a glimpse of the world that lies beyond or chose, in its cryptic mercy, to spare me for another day, I cannot tell. But death, of this I am certain, I have seen, and he has seen me.

12

A thud! Garbled nattering, blurred gathering Barbed badinage. Ground the smell of sour grain and stale bread Blinded by grime, gravel bites Sobs! Sobs! Sobs! Footsteps dashing past, dust billowing out Tee-hee! Gray dark sky scudding Thousand silver threads Celestial flame Parched ground Redemption! Garbled nattering, clear gathering The passage, solemn sea Soft, hushed voices Silence. Cheers!

0

Dec 21, 2024

Dec 21, 2024 at 4:05 AM UTC

Renascence

A thud! Garbled nattering, blurred gathering Barbed badinage. Ground the smell of sour grain and stale bread Blinded by grime, gravel bites Sobs! Sobs! Sobs! Footsteps dashing past, dust billowing out Tee-hee! Gray dark sky scudding Thousand silver threads Celestial flame Parched ground Redemption! Garbled nattering, clear gathering The passage, solemn sea Soft, hushed voices Silence. Cheers!

18

I still remember the day, I was in the company of friends, all known to me We sat drinking in the lounge, the atmosphere golden and warmth, And here were other people too, lost in the hums of conversation and music We talked of the pleasures of the day, laughing Then my friend Aseko asked, “Ronga, are you okay?” I ignored and laughed it off, all others joining Sigu put, “Aseko, are you okay to ask Ronga if he’s?” And Morara added, “Or Aseko is drunk, are you not so Aseko?” But Aseko, having felt offended, left. We added more drinks, more warmth to fill the crack But when I raised my face from a sip, they were all gone Ah, let them go. It is time to go. The embers of the sun had faded in the cold, crimson bleeding in the horizon I took a path, so used to me, so strange to me Its sides a tangled wall of branches, twisting roots clutching the earth Each of my steps taking a silent warning, echoes coming to me in whispers “Go, Ronga, don’t go!” I passed cornfield, roaring wind yanking me backward Moon’s silver gaze a silent plea, A DETERRENT! And afar, beyond the reach of time’s hurried pace Were shifting streaks of green and grey A nudge! “Hey, Ronga, are you okay?” asked Aseko “No!” answered I. “Where are the rest?” “All gone, we need to go, Ronga!” “To where, Aseko, to where?”

0

Dec 21, 2024

Dec 21, 2024 at 3:25 AM UTC

Unmoored

I still remember the day, I was in the company of friends, all known to me We sat drinking in the lounge, the atmosphere golden and warmth, And here were other people too, lost in the hums of conversation and music We talked of the pleasures of the day, laughing Then my friend Aseko asked, “Ronga, are you okay?” I ignored and laughed it off, all others joining Sigu put, “Aseko, are you okay to ask Ronga if he’s?” And Morara added, “Or Aseko is drunk, are you not so Aseko?” But Aseko, having felt offended, left. We added more drinks, more warmth to fill the crack But when I raised my face from a sip, they were all gone Ah, let them go. It is time to go. The embers of the sun had faded in the cold, crimson bleeding in the horizon I took a path, so used to me, so strange to me Its sides a tangled wall of branches, twisting roots clutching the earth Each of my steps taking a silent warning, echoes coming to me in whispers “Go, Ronga, don’t go!” I passed cornfield, roaring wind yanking me backward Moon’s silver gaze a silent plea, A DETERRENT! And afar, beyond the reach of time’s hurried pace Were shifting streaks of green and grey A nudge! “Hey, Ronga, are you okay?” asked Aseko “No!” answered I. “Where are the rest?” “All gone, we need to go, Ronga!” “To where, Aseko, to where?”

26