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john wake Poems
A Visit To Kibera
jumping across the sewage river, I gazed at trees, all bare Muddy shacks called houses Painted by old plastic bags,
Emptied entirely All the tears drip Each drop, wasted All Rusted
in an empty sky
In an empty sky We could lie And watch the sun pass by \
trying terza tima
The scrap, critter! -mess I miss How you linger like lost litter
The mouth watering taste of forbidden fruits Is what they say attracts doomed lovers And once the foreign taste touches your lips Makes your mind flip
I shiver, sweat, sleep not. Once you where a lover,
</>Speak sinner What shall you chant. Weak spinster Now afraid to dance, you slant.
The sun trimmed the night sky Little by little as the stars said “bye” a male humming birds hum While he sip the flowers’ rum
In the dark, that’s where my thought parks In nights space My pen tries to pace
Lost, lost in this frost A warm fire, a dire dream I am Lost, lost in the deep
Rain drips and drops Slowly, spilling, sipping To the earth from thunderous Clouds. Could be millions
Driving across the country I gazed at trees, all bare The houses all shacks Tightly packed.
From the gray rock, The lizard, pale, stocks For insect prey, And afar a passing
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
A Visit To Kibera
jumping across the sewage river,
I gazed at trees, all bare
Muddy shacks called houses
Painted by old plastic bags,
Pollution in the dirt
Shit on the pave, walk way.
Where water is sold per drop
Electricity still a capitalist gain
Not a social utility
Where it snows trash,
Descending from city trucks.
The bottom of the chain
Find dirt a toy,
And their only playground
A garbage field.