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From afar    Still I wrote thousands of words to the only person I fell in love with And to the only person who just couln't love me …

Poems

Some where amidst
Sanity and insanity,
Some where amidst
Agony and ecstacy,
Some where amidst
Canyons and alps,
Some where amidst
Dusk and dawn,
Some where amidst
Fantasy and reality,
Some where amidst
Spring and summer,
Some where amidst
Autumn and winter,
Some where amidst
Sun and Moon,
Some where amidst
Mercury and Venus,
Some where amidst
Earth and Mars,
Some where amidst
Jupiter and Saturn,
Some where amidst
Uranus and Neptune,
Some where amidst
Pluto and the unkown
Dwells a Lonely poets soul.
A person's integrity
can be lost
amidst this "prestige" fabricated world.
A person's heart
can turn to stone
amidst these nefarious life forms.
A person's brain
can be turned to mush
amidst these excruciating words.
A person's eyes
can be shown miserably different views
amidst these manipulating debaters.
A person's character
can be ripped to shreds
amidst these sharp dire actions.
A person's sensitivity
can be transformed into nothing
amidst these morbid apathetics.  
A person's worth
can be diminished
amidst these cruel rulers.
A person's dreams
can be crushed
amidst these rich, shiny shoe wearers.
A person's life
can be extinguished
amidst this persecuting society.
Only when someone's life is gone-
is when we try to exterminate the said problems.
Why only take change when someone's gone?
They won't get the help they need
because they're not there.
Why let the rest suffer
when something can be done now?
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC?

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; aopicho@yahoo.com)


Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor
Knowing not your true colour and texture
Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery
With the so limited human capacity
In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss
But O love! Why are you ever crooked?

Young men and women in strength of their sinews
Toil day and night in ******* of humanity
Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love
Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze
Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence
In the foolish quest for love equillibria
But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love
You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts
O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless?

You hate the learned but you favour the strong
You hate professors but you favour the soldiers
You hate the rich but you favour the agile
You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers
You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian
You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes
You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin
You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress
O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical?

Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality
In all of your history you scored sum *** laude  
In the duo as blend of your domain, Look;
You never dwell in a genuine companionship
You like where the couth will interject;
Amidst fornication between married and single ones
Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion
Amidst miscegenation between black and white
Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame
Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young
Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp
Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant
Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil
Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians
Amidst impious ******* among the suave gays
O love! O love! You are the  most wicked force!

Love I am told; your colour is red
You may be red or you may not be red
But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration
For your herculean ability to bend the most wise;
In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend
In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend
Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor,
In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte
To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine
Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris
Among the then humanity and the then animality,
In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers
In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser
In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen
Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps  
In the eyes of the Roman beholders
The father and the son only to sent the empire
To the love forlorn smithereens!