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Zywa May 2023
Buzzing everywhere,

the oasis full of bees --


All flowers empty.
1. Migration to rich countries, which get too crowded to feed everyone / 2. Kleptocracy, keeping the population as poor as possible

Collection "The drama"
Zywa May 2023
After today's four steps
I'm sitting in socks by the fireplace
My heavy boots are standing straight
and my back is still rattling

I am a henchman
I push the boundaries
of the ladies in love
and the rich gentlemen

I leave horse **** behind
and take the scent of freesias with me
The water in the bucket sloshes
like yearning love

I don't travel alone
We are armed
The papers are precious
Sealed letters

Beginning and maintaining
of relationships and major interests
Between the stops, the reins
of fate are in my hands
Four steps: four postal stops

Postilions (post-coachmen) wear heavy boots, to protect against getting jammed; these boots are named after the average distance between the posts (postal stops, relays): "bottes de sept lieues" ("seven-league boots")

Postillon d'amour = Post-coachman of love

Collection "Migration"
Zywa Mar 2023
Borders in our heads
where it becomes unsafe
and we are on our guard

against those who come in
with a mouth full
of questions and criticism

who keep a low profile
as good neighbours
with democratic rights

to undermine government
whereby they change colour
until they feel strong enough

to blow up differences
and to welcome others'
losses as gains

until there are no more borders
just gaps and stinking fistulas
with internal bleeding
Collection "BloodTrunk"
Oh! you've forgotten this familiar voice so soon?
I am the laborer you employed on your snow field
When your frozen farm could not stand
I was he, who brought you loam from my mother's graveyard
The lurking waves are near
I am come knocking the moonlight door
It is me, the Afrikana
Will you open Sir?
Or just look me at the window and chide me once more.

Oh! landlord, you've forgotten this dark child so soon?
I am the tenant you welcomed into your garage
As your kitten took my place in the guest room
I have come with a basket of thorns woven by my people
For a share of what solely belongs to my ancestors
I am come knocking the moonlight door
It is me, the Afrikana
Will you open Sir?
Or just look me at the window
And hide me in your balcony.

It is me, the Afrikana
I am come on mother's last errand
With a golden necklace handsomely beaten from her shackles
I am come with your cross Sir
Knocking, knocking
It is me, the Afrikana
Will you open the moonlight door?
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2021
~
Windsong breeze
Playing to the tune of migration
Flight of the Arctic tern
Pushing the boundaries
For greater hemispheres
Internal clocks sound a message though
It is indeed time to go
To wing forth in formation
As they were designed to do
Their wanderlust tempered
By an annual returning

~
Yenson Aug 2021
Saw the bean pole and its roots
arguing outdoor with two oppressors
bean pole treated unfavourably
its on foreign soil doused in free milk
but reminded
its just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias

Saw the bean pole housed
in nursery and greenhouse to propagate
now rooted anew its given nutrients
but it must do as ordered
for no matter what
its just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias

Saw bean pole growing tendrils
leaves unfold green to catch sunshine
but now a puppet amongst others
who bend and shape at will
bean pole see that plant next to you
its taking your nutrients away
go block its sun
do as we say or else
just remember you're just another crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias

Bean pole will grow and bear fruits
on foreign soil there's milk and honey
but for as long as the sun shines
the chains and barbs will hold
bean pole is just a stick
carrying tendrils to grow the beans
eaten by those of the land
who to them will always be  
just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias
Zywa Jun 2019
A wild goat lived in his heart
dreaming of paradise
so he decided to go there
and it was larger than imagined

For weeks, he looked
for the most beautiful place
to live, until one day
he approached the border, a wall

of mountains, and their weight filled
his legs, he could go no farther
and stayed where he was
without answer

when his son asked if this
was it, the best, and they
of all people the happiest
here in paradise
Terach and Abram in 1970 BC
Terach = wild goat, wanderer

Collection “From Sacred Scriptures”
Zywa Feb 2021
There are no guest rooms
because the land is too full
for a paradise life

The villages arm themselves
against newcomers
there is no need for them

They have to move on, to the hard soil
of the mountains, on the edge
of the North Paradise

or in a bend back
to the south, nowhere
welcome, nowhere is there enough

milk and honey, enough space
even if fields fall vacant
because of drought, smallpox, or plague

The neighbours fight for it
because the land is too full
for a paradise life
Terach, Abram, Sarai and Lot in 1970 BC
Terach = wild goat, vagrant

Collection "From Sacred Scriptures"
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Learning to Fly
by Michael R. Burch

We are learning to fly
every day . . .

learning to fly—
away, away . . .

O, love is not in the ephemeral flight,
but love, Love! is our destination—

graced land of eternal sunrise, radiant beyond night!
Let us bear one another up in our vast migration.

Published by The Book of Hope and Dreams (anthology). Keywords/Tags: learn, learning, fly, flying, flight, destination, migration, destination, heaven, love, eternity, eternal sunrise
Ba ba black man
wandering the flaming sun/

Why do you choose to smear the night?
is it that you're too sour for truth and light? /

What’s your guilt?  
why running from the sanctuary your ancestors built? /

Traveler beneath my country’s fire-rain
off to the backyard and heave my pain/

If you deem freedom to be tons of dollar
come swing ***** of dust into the eyes of your mother/

Life of a dark traveler isn’t a small joke
so don’t you find my words a suffocating smoke/
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