They used to say noodles for needles,
Now they speak in more coded riddles
Show not a bit of remorse on the bridle
Pelt the slouching horse when idle.
Now my heart is a sunburnt hide,
Inviting on the outlook, indifferent inside,
But I yearn yet more than you to love
I yearn to confer, express and laugh
Some got pies, and all that glitters
I got the litter of bitter fritters.
Do not feel sorry for me: feel slowly
Though no one was ever laid so lowly.
Touch with reviving hope my deadened cells
Orate eloquently your verses to my deafened ears.
Regenerate life; beat my heart to rhythm again
Resuscitate me so I can breathe into freedom again.
Citizenry on this island stirs no patriotism
Send me a map of directions from this paroxysm.
Remind me of laughter; send me comical notes as well.
I mean to laugh so much my face should swell.
Touch me from a distance as you are yet so near
Wrap me in that buoyancy that repels all forms of fear.
Wipe out the gripe and grout, stretch my lay muscles.
If you should bring anything, bring happiness in many parcels
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Enoch, your work is so filled with love and light and hope for the future.
ReplyDeleteTime to get it all in book form.