Poetry starts like rain .
With one drop
It hits your body
You can feel it in your bones and muscles
And you have little time to prepare
But you know a storm is coming...
You can rush to get ahead of it
...You could try and block it altogether
But why not just take your time with it?
You could just see it through to the end.

We don't seem to be dead
we want to be dead
we don't live in order to sleep
we sleep to avoid living

when you sleep, you're not dead however you're not awake

no one can talk to you
no one can judge you
no one can hurt you

until you wake up...

through blind faith
and sown hypocrisy
ye burn many bridges
ye cover stone paths
to steadily maintain
absentee descent road
that's of sheer math

easy bits open, in, down, and next
browse, peruse, idly select
amuse, delight, disgust abject
oversized, crunch, munch, and ruminate
give a glazed gaze and a bemused musing
there's another little bit
oh isn't that nice
it's so perfect
bite sized
delight

One day you wake up
And you just are
For a moment
Suspended in your dreams

I am just a sad rock on the road, but when I remember your voice, I feel the strange green and dewy touch of my skin, so I smile. I am alone, like this bitter time, and I am only good at sadness. I write to you with sadness because I am from the sad land. The roads here are sad, the stories are sad, the hearts are sad, even the smiles are sad. We are here when we write, we write with sadness, when we read, we read with sadness, when we love we love with sadness, and when we laugh, we laugh with sadness. They stole our door and stole our windows, so the sadness entered our homes with air. We have become fish that breathe sadness, and when we are born, we are born with sadness because we know that behind our stolen doors and behind our stolen windows, nothing awaits us but sadness.

Be you black
Be you white
We are all one

Be you pink
Be you  brown
We are all one

Man is man
No matter his colour
No matter his tongue

(C) Kamarudeen Mustapha