The Last Walk
by Dowell Oba
.
Heavy feet motionless on long road,
Shuffling in hard disbelief a plagued mind;
A plain gaze conceals heart slightly bold,
An escaping tear falls in shattering grind.
Gradually parched feet lay still like forever,
Scampering with a gaze for a sign wherever;
A wandering stare breaks with a salty tang,
Unceasing drops rolling as splitting hearts bang.
From nostalgic mazes of melancholy,
Hope restores forth times of hale and hearty;
Where love once sprung on a field so deeply,
A heart once fertile, through fruits twice lengthy.
And forcefully arms reach outfor final collision,
As parting lovers explore their paradise passion;
Tomorrow we depart, now timeless in touch,
Immortalizing today, two minds shall ever brush.
.
Never give all the heart
by Amadi Inya
.
Never give all the heart, forlove
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that’s lovelyis
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up tothe play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.
.
A CENTAUR
by Jefferson Carter
.
For laughs,
I imitate a horse,
lowering my bare shoulder
into the sand
of the arroyo, my wife
watching from above
& our son inside the blue backpack
watching while I roll, kicking
my hooves & neighing, husband
turned centaur, father
as some big animal.
The boy laughs
because his mother’s laughing
& I lurch to my feet, shaking,
blowing through my nostrils,
feeling foolish,
but what’s a family for?
Climbing back up,
I smell creosote & sage
& I understand the Greeks
who carried in their armor
a bag of spices
that smelled like home.
.
HOPE
by Ikhalo Efose
.
Unsure,sceptical,paranioid.
I cuddle my fears,still my heart filled with void.
It aches as i echo my thoughts in solitudes.
With excrutiation,i open my eyes to bear witness to the hapless multitudes.
I ask the creator of my purpose in this bean-ball named life.
I received chilling silence likethough of a knife.
I look again but this time as the world,
it seemed like its end had come,
Then i see the rainbow,
the belated answer befalls me.
‘hope my child’

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