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  Mar 2016 Mfena Ortswen
Morgan
I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
people drink coffee and stare at
from studio apartment windows
and under pretty white gazebos ,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that falls soft at first,
and then harder,
and then soft again,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that smells sweet
and makes flowers grow
in the spring time,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that collects in pretty puddles
in the pavement
so that toddlers in rubber boots
can jump in and splash
their parents,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that lulls crying teenagers
to sleep in their warm beds
or makes lovers miss one an other,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
people watch and listen to
with gentle acceptance,

I'm the kind of rain
that falls fast and hard,

the kind of rain that is cold
and hurts sun burnt shoulders
when it hits them,

the kind of rain that washes
pretty chalk paintings off of
drive ways in suburbs
without a second thought,

the kind of rain that
seeps through ceiling tiles
turning cozy little homes into
chaotic whirlwinds of
anxiety and destruction,

the kind of rain that
makes your joints ache
and your eyes red,

the kind of rain that
gets the kids out of the pool
and sprinting inside,
cold, wet, and uncomfortable,

the kind of rain that
washes leafs into
your gutters,

you curse it all week long,

the kind of rain that
only wanted to touch the earth,

to feel some semblance of warmth,

but the kind of rain that
doesn't know how to
leave the thunder at home,

the kind of rain who
breaks the things
it loves,
no matter how
hard it tries to be
gentle...
  Mar 2016 Mfena Ortswen
Pixievic
I'm a master of disguises
Skilful at charades
So many different characters
Through my life I've had to play
But my true self is amazing
Though concealed in vulnerability  
So please go deeper than the mask
To unveil authentic beauty

(C) Pixievic
We all wear masks ..... sometimes we just need people to see through them
  Mar 2016 Mfena Ortswen
Daniel Ospina
Fountain of youth runs in his veins,
The man who lives in Sycamore Keep.
His circadian clock had come to a halt,
Rather than rejoice, he sullenly weeps.
You would think that immortality is
The pinnacle of human existence,
All the time in the world and not a
Single malady to be of any resistance.
Yet there he sulks, the ageless man,
Cauterized by the turn of each century,
As loved ones breathe their last and
Become a parcel of his fractured memory.
But that is just the shell of his woes,
For even with all knowledge amassed,
He’s utterly aghast with the state of the
World unwilling to learn from the past.
Every crook and cranny explored,
Every experience well savored,
Now monotony for millennia to come,
His longing to live has ebbed and wavered.  
I was told by the man of Sycamore Keep
That immortality is a curse so alluring.
Indeed, a hundred cultivated years is
Much better than hollow eons securing.
But sir, think of all the riches you’ve accrued
And mastery of all science and philosophies.
Who wouldn’t want to have the time to mark
The world and purge it from all its atrocities.
Say no more, interrupted the ageless man,
I applaud your idealism and optimistic delusion,
But you’re missing one essential element --
Even as immortals, we’d still be only human.
And to be human, is to be fallible. Let’s just say
That immortal fallibility will engender no good.
It'd be best to truncate our lifespan for the
Sake of our survival, yes truncate we should.  
And that’s all I heard from the man of Sycamore Keep,
Who went on his way to his millennial weep.
the colors of love reside in you
i am black, gray and midnight blue
sun meets moon at daylights wake
yellow skips along ocean’s break
clouds of black soak waves of green
raise a rainbow briefly seen
my lover dreams in night’s caress
of flower petals and wedding dress
while in the shadows
i sleep content
the color of her love is meant…
for me
Mfena Ortswen Mar 2016
I hear wild wolves
Attacking the peace of the night
Howling 'neath forest trees
Kissing the floors of earth
Hunting for the unsuspecting prey

There she sat
Bathed in moonlight
Eyes like onyx
Staring into the dark

He was prey to her innocence
Was enamored with her beauty
The beast had seen beauty
And wouldn't let it go

He carried her
With as much tenderness
As only a loving heart could

And today I saw her
In the dark coves
Being loved
And loving in return
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