born on foreign shore falling beyond the crest of the equatorial horizon to family washed up in a shipwrecked fleet while fleeing the camps and tattoo stamps of war.
displaced and placed on a privileged pedestal i pick and pluck the petals inside my mind while the compass needle spins in distress searching for direction and equilibrium.
in a basket with statues of stone faced settlers and sunburnt segregation lawmakers the shadow cast in concrete moulds hangs over me unyielding to the African sun.
cultivating gritty soil in a field of weeds to sow seeds for wings in the coming season before taking flight from untarred runways into skies of cosmic possibilities.
keys to my congenital shackles and chastity belt of literary aspirations lie above the clouds in faraway towns or below the gravel of my local grave.
// REMINGTON SILENT //
under marching fingertips the typewriter's pitter-patter tiptoed in silence as if the letters punched were bandits planting pamphlets of propaganda.
a poet wrote his last stanza in London under downpour of blitzkrieg bomb storms crushing the keys and mangling the machine his words are all the remain.