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Qweyku Oct 2017
wrinkles in time
etch the pillars
of the lights to my soul

underlined
lines of laughter
take residence upon my brow;

[these furrows] the collagen
masking the prayer of sorrows
that draw deeper than skin

© Qwey.ku
Qweyku Sep 2017
Before you see it
Before you realise
Before you know
& comprehend

A glass sits before you
Measured above 'a little late'
Brimful at the line;

"No time like the present"

A gift given all,
Barely examined & rarely opened
Save with warm sorrow & sober reflection
Ever thankful of past occasion...

Drunk on youth!
Grasp & be enlightened;

The future is indeed an education.

© Qwey.ku
Epiphany: My Heart is made of glass and in it I have tried to keep love safe


For Raphaela
Qweyku Jul 2017
I heard the dawn whisper

"Hope is on the horizon"

Just as her Sun rose
clothed in copper orange
eclipsing the shimmer
of earths waters
with soul piercing rays

Illuminating the day forwards
like flames winged with healing
engulfing paths with the brightness
found in the joy of wisdom

Imparting strength
in the sure vision
of understanding...

Hope IS on the horizon

                    © Qwey.ku
Qweyku Jun 2017
ablaze
with
horror,
disbelief,
hopeless grief
&
anger

waves of emotion trigger
compassion of comradery
displayed in nothing but
the simplicity of love.

Oh!

what dawn of terror
on
Grenfell
Qweyku May 2017
A son of Africa
but your sons will remember you
as their father
your daughters too
and childrens' mother
as that one talk-dark-suave
African brother
her friend and her lover
surpassed only by your faith
in a higher other...
the eternal soul lover

G-d! (Ewruade!!!)

How quickly you returned
from “where you came…
...Chaley” a type of original journalism
May G-d permit my spirit to do the same

Go rest.

We’ll see you when we’ve done our time
when we’re old and journaled grey
In glory crowned as such
reflecting His brilliance bronzed
Footsteps
In faith
we'll keep the watch.

Rest now
African Sun

Sleep

We'll keep the watch
Qweyku Jan 2017
Despair unrequited asked of me;

where do proverbs, poems...
such wisdom's go to die?


do they expire with the ink of thought
penning themselves out of imagination?
or simply tire of expectation?

tell me
&
i would scourge
that unenlightened grave-site,
guillotine its immoral keeper,
&
decapitate him upon
a writer’s block!

show me
&
i will breach earths bowels
wrenching words from darkness' depths
with the light verse of celebration
&
a calligrapher’s paragraph of praise.

only then should i rest in piece
from wordy passion
scribed with its, novel pleasures

&
when spent, 
upon my epitaph do write;

'she was consumed,
birthing words to life'



© Qwey.ku
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