The petty division

o f  s e m a n t i c s.



The bloodied mace

o f   w a r   o f   w o r d s.




T h e   v i le   p e n

strikes a more brutal blow

&

  b  e  

mightier  

t h a n   t h e   m o r t a l   s w o r d.



~ QB

I have been deeply
French-kissed
by the Sun.

My skin
unmistakably glistening,
reflecting;
the sensual moistness of her tongue.

Scorched by passion
from the very beginning.
A frenzied possession,
so deep,
now genetically smitten.

A torrid affair
by certain perceptions.
Unshakable,
defiantly unbreakable.
To wit questionable,
sometimes unbearable.

But...

I must confess
her kiss riles me,
and with it,
guilt
forgivingly
hails me.

Too,
the jealously of men
contorted,
merely
by
the sheer beauty
in her embrace.

?

I am at a loss, I despair,
I don't understand it.

Driven mad
simply,
by the affection of her face.


**© Qwey.ku

Noon had barely finished his circuit
when I engaged the Sun in conversation,
wondering if her healing rays were a golden ode to pain?

Abruptly interrupted;
shirts' silk thread dripping displeasure,
at the sudden moistness of its condition.

In return and in much the same verbal position,
I chided this thread,
intoxicated with sticky saline libation,
much less for the distraction
as opposed to the - parley intrusion,

citing;

“My dear shirt it’s impolite to gravitate beyond one's social inclusion”

Instinctively,
back and fingers joined this spoken foray
distancing themselves in unison
from the sozzled garments' argument.

Arching and pulling away,
his company no longer entreated,
whatever beauty he had,
now lost,
in his present
dis - position.

In agreement and sunshine unabating,
I attempted to continue our once lovely conversation.
But she;
her glow unwaning,
had moved on,
no longer finding such small talk entertaining.



**© Qwey.ku

The
footsteps
of
understanding
navigate
narrow paths
of
foresight
on
pavements
laden
with
golden words
of
insight.


© Qwey.ku

There is nothing  
Little
nor
White
about a lie.

They are both as
Broad
&
Black
as the
Night
is
Dark.


**© Qwey.ku

Beneath,
I amused fear,
drowning immersed in faith.
Near my final breath I mused Latin,
the etymology of 'entertain'.

Tormented;
by mistake.
Entertaining fear,
over entertaining faith.*

In the quiet silence of revelation,
I took stock,
&
looked up,
180° degrees,
poised
  &  
compassed
my flesh,
to
unbolt
the chains
of misdirection
bound to the recess of my soul.
Unleashed!
Now to hike the proverbial mountain,
cobbled
in the boots of Wisdom.

Contemplative.
Afloat,
aloft its height,
coiffured
safe
by the proverb,
transfigured,
by wisdom of consciousness.

© Qwey.ku

As you attempt to pour more political doctrine down my throat
I check the change in my pocket
for
the laxative I‘ll have to buy
from my legal drug dealer

REALLY!?!

Did you not know that your words are;

indigestible,

incorrigible

&  

wholly corruptible?

How do you manage
to
politically caress your own eardrums
reach
through your sinuses,
tickling
the lining of your
esophagus
and yet,
make me cough?!

Your response to truth is truly painful,
you feel it in your chest,
your ***** heaves and razes
you have a fit gesticulating policies
flipping birds that won’t fly

It’s too late!

Mr "I went to Oxford so I must have the plan"
Mr Self-Interest man
Mr  Ivy-league, Whitehouse, Whitehall...."Cambridge was better",
Mr  I can do all things that superman can.
Mr  “If we win the elections next year”...

Man

Take your leave,
your term is over,
School is out
&  
the old boys no longer love you.

Time!
to
run for
cover,
under the
colour,
of
your favoured
currency umbrella.

But

If you’re African  
"it's okay"  
you can stay a little while longer
and bequeath the throne
to your brothers', sisters', uncles', sons' junior brother!

Turn it into a dy-nasty

Bring on board;

Kwadjo,
Mary,
Abena,
Kwesi,
Uncle Nepa,
Sista Tism
&
Aunt Ivy.

Ah-Geee!!!

This nonsense is highly unpalatable
I’m past the word puke
my bile sack is empty
because your drunkenness is spreading

&  

y o u’r e

s t i l l

b l o w i n g

m e

f u m e s!


Your democracy
has made your Guinea-Pigs
demi crazy,
has captured this poets’ goat
Slaughtered it
&*
mandated this verbal frenzy

Enough!

Of this alcoholic experiment
I’m not drinking anymore,
I’ve cried blood!
and now *"my eyes are red"
Looking forward
to being 'tee-totally' sober,
while
U


c o n t e m p l a t e

t h i s  

v e r s e

o f

p o e t i c,

p o l i t i c a l,

M U R D E R.


**© Qwey.ku