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Will Storck Apr 2012
Lakeshores are so lonely during the winter and in turn make me lonely.
The light almond sand is still covered with the peace sign spokes of gulls’ feet.
The waves and tide are slower and groggy. Everything takes on a grayish tint and the cold air soaks through cotton layers, socks over socks, and deep into the skeleton. Bones take on a new meaning in the winter. They appear white but compared to snow they are filthy from their responsibilities to the living. They become ***** from living. Everything sounds different here. Voices are muffled. Words mix in with the push of water and become deconstructed into just noise. Speech becomes something of tone and inflection. Speech becomes human birdcalls. The sky is the same grayness as the water and there is always wind. Moving air pushes snowflakes into my dark eyes and black hair. It’s almost as if they are fighting to push me back. Creature of heat and light and breath. You do not belong here.
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

Once upon a time in the city of Omurate
In the southern part of Ethiopia
Omurate that is on Ethiopian boundary with Kenya
There were two prosperous animal families
Living side by side as good neighbours
in glory and pomp of riches
Each family was ostensibly rich
And rambunctious in social styles
They were the families of African rat family
And the Jewish cat family; the city belonged to them
They all enjoyed stocks of desert scorpions from Todanyang
From the savanna desert of Northern Kenya,
The two families also enjoyed to feed on desert locusts
On which they regularly fed without food squabbles
                               Locust themselves they flew from Lowarang to Omurate
From Lowarang a desert region in Kenya, to their city of Omurate
Sometimes the Jewish cat family enjoyed an extra dish
In form of puff adder flesh, especially the steak of the puff adder muscle
Puff adder were cheaply available in plenty at the lakeshore,
Lakeshores of Lake Turkana
At point which river Ormo enters into Lake Turkana
So the cat was happy and relaxed
Even it rarely mewed,  
Neighbours never often heard its mewing sound
The rat also enjoyed plenty of milk with no strain
Easily gotten from the rustled cattles
Cattle rustled by the Merilee; a warrior tribe in Omurate.

That day the cat had gulped milk since morning
Even its stomach was bulging
Like that of Kenyan state officer
The rat had milk all over the house
In the kitchen, milk allover
In the sitting room, milk in abundance
In the wash, room milk all through
On the bed, milk and stuffs of milk
The rat was bored with nothing to be enticed
Sometimes plenty of milk can become a bother
The rat mused to itself in foolish African empathy
That may be the cat is starving in pangs of hunger
With nothing to drink, or may be it has no milk
When the milk is rotting here in my house
It is un-African for food to rot in your house
When the neighbour’s belly is not full,
On these thoughts the rat washed its legs, and hands
Finished up with its face,
Put on its white short trouser and a green top
It stuffed its tail inside its white short trouser,
The rat poured milk into two pots,
each *** was full to the brim
It carried one in its left hand
And balanced another on its head
In its right hand was an African walking stick
For the elders known as Pakora
The rat took off to the home of the cat
In full feat of animal love and philanthropy
Whistling its favourite poem;
An Ode to a good neighbour,
Walking carefully lest it spills brimful milk,
It entered into the house of the cat without haste
Neither knocking nor waiting to be told come in
In that spectacular charisma of a good neighbour,
When the cat saw the rat it giggled two short giggles
And almost got choked by indecision
For it had been long since this happened,
Since the cat had dine on milk leave alone rat meat
The rat said to the Jewish cat that my brother
Have milk I have brought for you
Have it and sip here it is; the real milk,
In devilish calmness the cat told the rat;
Put it for me on the table, thank you,
But my friend Mr. rat don’t go away; there is more
More for you to help me in addition to milk,
Continue my brother Mr. Cat, how can I help you?
Don’t call me your brother; bursted the cat,
For it is long since I ate the rat meat
And you know rat meat is our stable food
In a frenetic feat of powerlessness the rat was confused
In attempt to save itself
it pleaded that my dear elder, I was
Only having plenty of milk in my house
And to us African rats, it is a taboo
To have a lot of food in your house
When the neighbour’s belly is not full
So I only brought you the present of Milk
Please have it and drink,
Without taciturnity the Cat retorted in persistence;
I know and I am thankful for your good manners
But remember with us Jewish cats it is heinous sin
Forget of a taboo, it is blasphemy against the living
God for one of us to leave the rat free from our house
For you rats are the only stable and kosher food God blessed for us
The Jewish rat family all over the world
So shut up your mandibles, I am to eat you first
Then I will take milk later as a relish.

With its herculean paw the cat crushed the rat
With mighty of the leopard culture
Throwing away the white trouser
And green top from the torso of the rat
The cat ate the rat with voracity of the devil
After which it punctuated its mid day appetite
With slow and relaxed sipping of milk
Slowly and slowly as it felt its internal greatness
And hence the African proverbial cry that;
Behold foolish angst kills the African rat!
Exotic Jazz ballerinas I Sweetly Love You
For many of your Abundant gifts
and talents

Not just for your Ethereal
and Casual beauty, but also for your
Exotic And luminous grace,
That may be the first exquisite qualities
That comes like a Waterfall pirouette
To Ones mind when it comes
to the Sweet beauties of Exotic ballerinas

Exotic ballerinas how much I Love thee
Let my Love sigh the ways

Sigh number one (Uno)
(I always loved that game especially
When you draw a Wild card)

Awwww, Your beauty is naturally wild
As much as it is graceful and serene
Like the Evening lakes just after the Sunsets lavendar caress,
Its great to be able to Unwind
Around the enchanted circumference
Of the Evening lakes, the waves waltz
Svelte and limber like you do
And on a scale of 1 to 10 I'm 10x times
More clumsy than an Exotic ballerina,

So that would probably be sigh number 2,
Hey just thought of a number two pencil
For some reason, yeah your elegance
Thats sigh dos
Aww, Ah,
how many pencils would
It take to accentuate
your Supreme elegance,
probably way too much
All the gorgeous maple lake trees
Would be lumber
for the campfire bonfires

That Springs to ones mind,
Awww Sigh three (tres) your
Passion for the art of your dance
Is very innately romantic
Like the wistful wicks
of valentine candles,
your unique Silhouettes
from your tutus and leotards
Are like the dance of lovers candles

Sigh number four Awww, Awww, awww,
Awwww,
You dont wear sandles
but rather
Sweetly sport the flats
when you
Get into your Chopin cascades
of sweet
Loving transcendent
and sublime rhythms
that is Amazing
In itself
you hurt your sweet delicate pretty feet for the pure love of your art,
You sway naturally like Summer roses with alot of heart and Love,
And I have alot of Love for you
For that there alone, Its Sweet sweet jazz

Sigh number five
Awww, awww, awww, awww, ah,
the way your crescent hips
Dips And dives like sultry doves
and mellow swans
and keeps the Passion alive
Thats not easy to do
But you make it look so effortless

Sigh number six
AWWWWWW, the way the honey
Of your hair licks the breeze of romance,
Love, and ones vivid imagination
And inspires fascination,
Like the rainbows of irises along
The Heavenly lakeshores
Are you blushing now Exotic ballerina
I do not just love you naturally
As your very swayyyy I simply adore thee
If you are you blush
sweeter than rose gardens

Sigh number Seven
Awww, awww, Awww, awww, Awww,
Awww, awww
You are not only sweetly beautiful
You always have the most exquisite
names like penelope, bridgitte,
audrey, salma, daphne,
And the Holy mother,
No wonder so many great painters
and artists
like degas, matisse, and picasso
dedicated their craft
and passion to accentuate
your ever flowing beauties and charms, you are Sacred as you are down to earth as Sweet Vineyards
And Exquisite
with The Moonlight and Rain
And
I Naturally and sweetly Love you

Reynaldo Casison
Spring moon
Your Beauty Is Enough
For my Love
And every Sunflower Sigh
You glow how you glow
As The Exquisite Roses
Sway how they Sway
Like they have known Blue Winters
Nostalgia of Exotic Romance
The Rain of Kisses
The way Summer Waterfalls
And Honey flows

Spring moon
Your Love is enough
For every Iris Serenade
WithIn
The Stillness Of Honey lakeshores
Spring moon
You are like a Fine Jazz
Ballerina woman
Whose Luminous Beauty
Gifts Songs and Poetry
its Heavenly Bouquets
To Love and Adore

Reynaldo Casison
Moonbeams waltz
Somehow naturally
They just do
And candles lit are left to sigh

Waves salsa
Naturally somehow
Its the **** moonlight
And I long for you
To love me like waves
To golden luminous shore

Sweet irises along the evening
Lakeshores are swaying
And swaying
Its the **** caress of breeze
With the stillness of my love
Fine wine ballerina are you
Longing more than I
Could that be so
The moon is aglow
I could feel it by the depths
Of your rose sighs
Like the way you can feel the rain
And the maples can feel honey

The moon is a luminous rose bouquet
With its champagne of stars
For your sweet gaze
To kiss and kiss and kiss
With your love for me
And my love for you
Sky midnight blue
Is more voluptuous with your beauty
Somehow naturally

The roses that are yet to be
Wear your beautys firm delicacies
Blushing and blushing
Somehow naturally

The silhouettes of the waves
And sunflowers
Become your loves exquisite rhythms
Somehow naturally

Reynaldo Casison

— The End —