...Hiding my emotions like an enamoured prostitute. Or an actor, trying to make his debut on this twisted scale. Harloting my way through life, a simulated masquerade, trying not to 'fail'. Beneath, this masked trade hides a performer. me. Outside lies the judging audience, silent observer. THEM. Only one believes the performance matters and fears…
Continue reading ➞ Silent Falling Bird of A Flock [Poem] by Issa Dioume
Her mind is like the sky, limitless Her body is the earth, bound Her smile is like the rain, hitting dry soil Her eyes, two petals aflame Soft and smoothe yet uncontrolably dancing to their own tune, warm to the touch of my hand Yet fragile in my embrace Her whole is asunder, a tree…
I tattooed pages full of ink Birthed characters who think Pushed my sanity on the brink People asked: why? I wink ------ ------- ------ Truth often trudges in faraway lands Epigrammatic eloquence sleeps in limbos Make in the zero, sinuous desert roads. There I am, kneeling, sand in hand Trying to quench and expand Seeing…
Continue reading ➞ SAND RIDGES OF MY HAND [Poem] by Issa Dioume
A heart may never heal...
Perhaps I am whatever they say Perhaps rain only falls one way Perhaps love cannot be felt by a clam Perhaps here and forever I will stay Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps. And perhaps I DO have no purpose Only a flower waiting to wither A slave to time's merciless curse And, perhaps IT WILL never get…
The bows' string is loosed The swords' thread snaps The wingless bird lands - screeching - Harbinger of the rain, Twisting, writhing from pain. Graves of dreamers forever left aspiring A shrilling cacophony of nothing. what a shame! Admiring the luminous fungibane from afar,…
