In days dead and burried in time,
In a very far away enchanted clime,
In the mighty kingdom of Nineva
Where there fairly shone forever,

There once was a strange lonely wood
That ever in fairest robes of green stood
By the edge of a fair shoreline of pearl,
Whose mystery none may tell nor unfurl.

For akin to the most effulgent yonder star
That forevermore scintillates from afar
In a splendiferous novelty golden cluster,
So thrice scintillated the gem's luster.

And 'tis for this that as we all truly know,
All mortals, I say, all mortals  of long ago
Gravitated from corners of distant lands
On the quest for riches by those strands.

Once, sweltering was the noontide
When upon a violent lonely rolling tide
A bunch of desperate pirates were seen
Nearing that wood of emerald sheen.

In a while, they'd gathered all they could,
Leaving not a single gem in the wood.
Alas! A wind murmured upon the skies
In faint whispers: "Woods have eyes"

So muttered all birds - all birds of the air,
All creatures in caverns desolate yet fair,
All leaves upon strange shadowy trees,
And all - all creatures of wild lonely seas.

But, despite the looming dark omen,
Swifter than plummeting drops of rain,
So hastily dashed every single pirate
Blindingly minding not about their fate.

They raised their silvery sails to take sail
But hark! All this - all this was to no avail;
For upon the skies no wind was seen
To render them across so wide a sea.

In a jiffy, louder than birds of the skies
All gems whispered, "Woods have eyes."
From that moment on, all lost their sight,
Doomed never to behold the sun's light.

And now, upon those murky restless seas
They dost weep but no plea can please,
For they were doomed to rove evermore
In search of their long forgotten shore.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 29th.July.2018.

The angels wittled these words
Into the back of my head
And when I awoke in the morning
Liquor leeching out my veins
The pounding in my skull I heard
Like a chant and a prayer
Said such;

God's not a masochistic


I need you to know
In a world that blames the almighty
For the mundane and monotonous
That the one who can cease
The river of life to flow
Isn't showering you with pain
He just wants his plants to grow

Stones,
Upon
The shore.

Shimmering,
So pure.

They pick
You up
All day
Then toss
You
Out to
The
Ocean's
Floor,
With
A single
Motion.

Listening
To
Waves,
Forever
An orchestra
Of their own.

Ocean.

Dip your
Toes,
In the
Ocean.

Stones
Are
Made
Of
Hard
Matter.

They
Don't
Shatter
Like
The
Flawed
Imperfection
Of
The
Human Condition.