The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.

This place was once God’s pious station.
Humanity is the song we sing to him.
The leaves praise him with peaceful African breeze, the breeze of our God.
The children of our mother earth were not left out of the feeling that planted oneness in the minds of the *******. Stone, that was what their minds were known for.

Life was then a simple sphere but now complicated and shapeless.
Life was then soft like unwithered breast but now a
granite. Then hearts was glaring but now, Africa and their black hearts.

See them,
They are crucifying humanity in the house of our God.
They are crucifying humanity in the court of law.
They are crucifying humanity on the matrimonial beds.
They are crucifying humanity on the aisle of power.
They are crucifying humanity for legal tenders.
They are crucifying humanity to be a god.
They are crucifying humanity in the struggle of religion.
They are crucifying humanity to calm the raging stomach.
They are crucifying humanity for thrones.
They are crucifying humanity in front of humanity.
They are crucifying humanity everywhere.
Now humanity is on the verge of death.
See them as they are whipping him.
See his skin as it swell to burst.
They are punching him, they want to punch him to
death.
Can you see those barbarian as they merry with the melody of crucifixion. Humanity is their scape goat.

Humanity is dead in theirs
but it is still alive in your heart,
It is still alive in your words.
Humanity must be alive in our home.
Let humanity live in Africa as free citizen.
If you are guilty of his death what do you gain?

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.

I emerge at the calm before the storm
where they can't reach me by the quake
anymore.
Before the plunge I am unwithered and unworn
calling Mother at the folds where it was torn.

Cast as foetus and bag of stone
I am pulled down into a blend of effulgence
and the lungs linger in my mouth
before settling for breath between the bones;
marked by nascence and polished.

Held in an agitation of hands I am lifted
onto the summit of all things,
and she cries at the final separation
of our veins,
of our beings.

what lies beneath those unwithered souls;
a ticking clock,
or a single brick unevenly placed on their walls?
a drying piece of grassland,
or a garden filled with blooms?
with smiles masked on their faces,
who'd know if they were real?
with eyes glistening upon the shadows of their insides,
i guess that's when you know what’s real

they say the upon the first fraction of a second from a glimpse you may know what they're truly feeling
but what if they're pathological liars, would you know what's real?
don't fret,
you're not alone
be genuine and kind,
and the rest untold

Broken dreams in this forseen symphony of the mind, singing entrancing words of solice within the thoughts of mine.
Never ending, never binding, always intertwining and at the same time unwinding.
Spinning and falling, voices calling. 
I sense the slow, silent slither, seamingly unwithered.
Cought beneath a shameless shiver of my secrets as a sinner. 
Calm, thine eyes witness of my flesh, yet beneath, within my breath.
Beckons of a violent debt with one known as the devil's pet. 
Taken from me and ones beloved, the puzzle piece, a peaceful love, of a heart that came from heaven above. 
Til thoughts my own are taken by thee, I will wait silently, for vengeance consumes mercilessly, what vision I dare not utter, human eyes can not see.
Your dawn will strike this I decree, my sights are fixed on death of death and all that follows thee.

She,
Were bright, and watered,
With the benevolent adoration
She blooms, unwithered.
But only at first.

Then she were glued,
To an unrealistic standard.
Of beauty,
Of what she will become.

Of other people,
To other people,
With other people.

What a predicament?
them spent days realigning my thought
and for each one the penny turns
presenting a double face, subtle tales

All the days I hid not to be seen
avoiding to be discovered, unclear sight
digging caves so deep and unreachable
sailing to shores, chasing invisible dream

In such moments when I wash all the dust
settling densely in this far away land
tinkering in shrubs and unwithered pinewood
recollecting the haunted songs into anthems

Unforgettable, that's who you are
Collecting my paper hearts
That's what you are
Breathings of you
Like a bird's nest of gold
Pieces of unwithered affection
Made to unfold
Like a blanket when days so cold
Unforgettable, Like a mythical thing
Untouchable, Like a  champion ring
Seraphim & Cherubim
Two lovesongs on their first meeting
Unforgettable, that first touch
Inseperable, when our hands clutch
Euphoric is that feeling
When all of me loves all of you so much
Priceless, Words on a sickle of paradise
Precious, Glow of your sparrow's eyes
Precious are the wishes of me
Holding you closer to me
Wrapping my arms around your melody
Kissing you by your kingdom above all skies
Unforgettable, words are three
Engraved on sheets of memory
I adore you
Everytime your eyes looking down on the pieces of me

this year I grew three trees
from the dust to the blue
with the assumption each
would teach

elm was the first,
a fleeting fumble
dripping in butterflies
yet gone before
the season was

next came the oak,
a sturdy promise
it was he who taught me
we rot from within

the weeping came third,
don’t all goods come in threes?
if only the sweetest blush
could float unwithered

blinded by branches
at nature’s cruel whim
my trees did not fall
but I did

love did not touch me
another buzz
another breath
it lingered
lingered
and left.

At this age of thy oldness, my grandfather, as I touch thy supreme hands, these very intengible eyes of my heart break down in tears of adoration.

It's because of thy grandfatherly love and contributions I am offering the words to thee. Those words are of my heart and have been hidden and unslipped out at the edge of my lips to this very day.

Knowest thou the time before the break of vergin dawn....

Getting up early as 4 in the morning, walking upon the harsh meadow enshrouded by the thick dew, and getting the water from the distant away, bearing the cold touch of winter breeze.
Two jerkins full of water weighing thy hands heavy, no torch but walking under the grace of rich moonlight.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least
helped thee carry one.

Boiling the water warm for our washing,
Cooking the rather-delicious breakfast for us, helping us wear the gho neat and clean, and reaching us all the way to the school on foot.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least walked the school by myself.

Celebrating the pain of love within like a man of supremety, all day tirelessly sweating and soaking in other's field, and earning the petty amount of ransom for our timely welfare and school stationaries.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least worked by myself and taken care of my school needs.

Bearing the body heavy with tiredness, yet coming till the school entrance to get us. Wearing the torn jacket, folding the wounded arms tight, and waiting all alone at the gate thro' the passage of time, till the school hour over.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least returned home by myself.

Dear grandfather, I wonder how thou hast passed half of thy life with us. Taking care of us all day and all night
living in the small and ill- thatched camp wast challenging for thee.

It's by virtue of thy all-day and all-night presence, we've grown healthy and untroubled to this day.




A Necklace of Adulation 08:  Coy Footprints

In this fragile land abidest thy coy footprints unwithered; and it seems that the sweat thou hast droppeth down, I would still find there.

I could recall thy wounded hands healed by the painful blisters.

Each day toiling in the field; ploughing beneath the scorching sun, cutting down the grass and feeding the herd of cattle, and walking towards the moorish hill in search of the firewood. Alas!  No slippers on feet yet enduring the harsh sting of nettle.

Indeed, thou hast never failed carrying out thy duties. Thou hast turneth up each moment wast special for thee.

In thine eyes I've grown this age. I shared my love and joy with thee and simultaneously, I learnt to carry out all the external work and withstand the pain. Though I've come across the endurance, yet thy continues guidance hast shaped my each learning.

Thou hast made me a master at rather young age. I would regard thy fatherly companionship and mastership.

Today, I could see change in thee. The weight of years hast overshadowed thy wandering age but the fire within, thou keepest bright and unfade in thy heart.

That's why I still see thee labouring at this age— despite thy oldness. All that I'm living today is because of thy endless hardwork and tenacity.