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If you're ever on the riverside
where the sun beats your head
you would see the old man
selling hats of palm leaf
but you care not to notice him
having already smelled the sea
and too keen to cross the river
travel southward on the island
till the saline wind scalds your eyes
your skins itch to jump into the waves
yet the man with the palm leaf hats
would not cease to tell you
how burning would be the sun on the sands
and so badly you need to protect the head
by parting bucks that mean nothing to you
but a world to the mouths he feeds
and before you stamp on him a final no
she has one atop her hair
beneath which her eyes flutter like butterflies
her sun rouged cheeks untimely blush
and two born anew lovers
merrily head for the sea
having bought romance
for forty bucks.
On the clearest of nights,
when the moon is new,
I like to lie on my back
in the grass and dirt.
I'll close my eyes, and
lie there, silent,
feeling the wind roll over me
timing my breathing with
the dance between breeze and grass,
keeping meter with the song they play.
Then, I feel the earth against my back.
I stretch my arms
as   wide   as     I    can...
and, palms down,
I hold the world on my back.
I try to feel the weight of it
on my shoulders.
I think of the size of this
hot ball of rock and water.
I feel the heaviness of
all of its inhabitants.
I feel their slightest vibrations-
baby steps
that move mountains-
shaping the landscape
and changing the destiny of this
ball of dirt.
I feel it living.
At the same time, I feel it dying.
It's an endless cycle
Of beautiful, precious life
in terminal doses.
I think of all this,
behind my back,
on my shoulders,
until I feel that the weight of it all
will surely crush me.
In that moment, I open my eyes
And look up at the clear,
moonless sky, and see
a sea of stars,
burning brighter than normal
as they pierce the darkness,
the illusion of the world on my shoulders.
As I stare into the cosmos,
the reality of this little ball of rock
is lifted from my back.
What was, moments ago,
the heaviest object in the universe,
was now tiny, when set against infinity.
I finally stand, and smile,
having successfully
thrown the planet back into space.
The roots of the tree go deep
And the roots of our thoughts
Go deeper. Push the negative
Under the rug with a positive
Sweeper, clean out the muck,
Sweep out the dust, polish the
Rust, and learn to trust
Somebody that you can love.
 May 2016 Mfena Ortswen
S S
I watch you watch me gliding by
Your joy worn on your sleeve
You hold me close, meld into me
My frayed veins you deftly weave.

A creeping line across an egg
Your face cracks into a smile
As silver syrup of moonlight seeps
Beem from your eyes, beguile.

I watch you pour love into me
Drops wetting parched dry heart
Words of satin, silken smooth
Bathe my restless wounds in art.

I believe that you ache when I ache
Edge of your world starts crumpling in
But tall you stand, hands on my ears
Muting out my shrieking din.

I believe you when you say you'll stay
Through my journey fraught with blades
Strong grip steadies my perilous walk
Gnashing jaws 'neath tightrope fades.

You shield yourself with arms aflexed
Marked with scars of self defense
Yet you kiss my Jekyll and my Hyde
You bore through my vile pretence.

I know not how our tale will end
The greys fragment into more shades
Know that your marrow fills my bones
You're the reason my life still parades.
My saviour.
 May 2016 Mfena Ortswen
Ree Bunch
You wore socks to bed- knowing it irked me.
Faced me while we slept- breathing your stinky breath in my face was a definite, guaranteed.
You loitered as I changed always trying to cop a feel- ignoring my agitated pleas.
You watched your wrist- telling me I’m late; of course, I forever disagreed.
Invited yourself to my TV time- talking to me as if I was free.
Told me I was beautiful; each and every day- annoyingly, times three.
Sometimes you had an ‘I’m the king’ attitude, and I was just your sidekick wannabe.

Sadly, I still wash all of your socks each and every week.
I face the fan as I sleep, so it dries my tear’s wet streaks.
I continuously pause while getting dressed- waiting to hear you make the floorboards creak.
I put on my makeup extra slow anxiously anticipating your frustrated shriek.
I turn up the TV’s volume hoping you’ll come interrupt to speak.
Waiting for your mushy compliments as I check the mirror at my womanly physique.
I made you a personalized crown, so you could be a king that’s honored and chic.
But silence and heartbreak are all that is left here to tweak.
You’ve departed this world suddenly, leaving my life confusing and disastrously bleak.
Now, your once irritating traits have become the only thing that my broken heart desperately seeks.
I know the things you do now that I complain about are going to be the things that I will yearn to see the day you are no longer here.(Most High forbid)
 May 2016 Mfena Ortswen
Ree Bunch
Indescribable heat searing fresh skin;
your words mutilate my heart with a Masamune Katana.
Joyfulness your presence once gave - now tarnished- forever tainted.
Bountiful regret saturates your words- emitting rivers of apologies.
But beauty I often saw behind those eyes is replaced
with a distinct shimmer of a Masamune Katana lying just beneath.
I  understand people speak in anger and say things they should never say, but it's more damaging when a friend repeats something that  should  have never been brought up- that was told  in secrecy-just to cut the person deeply. After that I  think it's impossible to ever look at that person in the same light; all I'm able to see is the words that once came from their mouth.

Masamune Katana - A rarely made sword that is beautiful, yet deadly.
I got a wrought iron heart
You know it's been through the fire
And you can't tear it apart
It's tougher than a barbed wire

You think I loved you from the start
You think I lost my best friend
You think it hurts me we're apart
I think you better think again

I got a wrought iron heart...
Song hook.
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