Keep your chin up and hold your head high
This cannot last forever, this is not all that there is

Breathe...

Someday you will find your feet, then you can run
Pick a direction, chose a path and put one foot in-front of the other

Breathe...

Soon you will see with your very own eyes
a thousand different wonders under a million different skies

Breathe...

once you are free from the confines of this life
and brave enough to try

Then, my darling, you can start a new day

Ye men so coward of poor Uganda,
Why dost thou comfortably rest in bed
As though crimes extant all propaganda,
And overlook the rising toll of dead?
Ah, night is nigh, rise now or nevermore,
For deep in dungeons lies thy dear child
Who should have lifted thy hope from the floor
That bliss as merry birds spark in the wild,
As such would bloom again upon thy land
That now lies in a sepulchre of sorrow,
As of a pirate prostrate by the strand
With faded hope to sight a new rainbow.
  O rise up now and fight for thy freedom,
  Before the land sinketh in lasting doom.



©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Kampala, Uganda, 20th.August.2018.

#Shakespearean sonnet

"Gonna quit drinking at forty"
That's what I said aged thirty.
"Gonna quit drinking at fifty"
That's what I said aged forty

Never fulfilled these intentions;
Sobriety fills me with apprehension
For a life steeped in tension
Both avoiding and seeking attention.

Truth be told,
I don't want to grow old
As the green grey mold
That thrives in my home so cold.

Drinking is my hobby and my crutch,
Everyone knows as much,
And each drink I touch,
Takes me nearer Death's cold clutch.

But I love the *****,
I've got nothing left to lose,
So what the hell's the use
Of not lighting Death's fuse
With just one more flamin' Drambuie
Just for old time's saké?

Today I wrote a poem
It took me five minutes
It was short,
A little choppy,
And pretty irrational,
But people really seemed to like it.
It got so many comments
And an encouraging amount of favorites.

So I decided to write another one.

This one took me two days
I poured my heart and soul into it,
And then set it free to start it’s life of internet fame
Only this time,
The poem got two likes
And no comments.

I guess people don’t like looking at my soul
That’s okay.
I’ll keep putting it on display anyway
Because maybe someone will like it
And then maybe they’ll comment on it

I don’t like waiting, but I will
Because I know that souls are hard to look at
When I take five minutes
To jot down a thought,
It’s so simple
But my heart and soul are much more complicated.

So take your time
Like it or don’t
But I’ll be happy, because
The most genuine form of writing is when you write to yourself.

Sometimes you just have to go for baroque in this acapella life.

i was alone
within a crowded room
when it came for me
i could feel it lurking
amongst the deadened souls
and its amber eyes
disguised themselves as comfort
to pierce through my flesh

its hands looked like yours
but embraced my neck
and as they tightened their grasp
its talon fingers
reached towards my flooding eyes
and traced a path down my cheek
carving skin in the pattern of a waterfall

it fastened chains
around my chest
and invisible serpents
slithered their way into my lungs
their vile breath
stealing the air within them

and as my nails began to dig
to hide from the monster
buried beneath my skin
the indolent world around me
gave no second glance
for my screams were silent


x.