mason dixon lewis and clark
went exploring until it got dark
stumbled into the indian ocean
celebrated there with great emotion
many say the french-russian revolution
can be considered as the final solution
never mind what makes good sense
based on the facts and the evidence
make up anything and write a book
everyone’ll trust you if you’re a crook
sister of flight
gone
all these years
you are here again
your soulful eyes
and aeronautic mind
at the edge of sight
a tiny firing
sparking
slipping out and in
airborne in the sky of here
of now
winging back from then
As Queen Joanna of Navarre
Rode through Cheapside
Six lucky musicians from Suffolk
Paraded along side
Performed in procession
with skill and pride
They received 13 shillings
Plus 4 pence
King Henry IV
spared no expense
More at http://angeledwardspoetry.com/.
In between the river
And the dim distant past
I spent my solitary childhood
In the quaint and murderous valleys
Of this gently wooded townland
Of a long forgotten sub-king
Whose sole remains are earthworks
And ancient brittle thorns
Where I hid from moonlit figures
Silent soldiers of all ages
In the cool sweet mist that rises
Through the rowans and whin bushes
And which sings softly of
Condolences that assure me I am
Dreaming and my mind will shortly
Flutter like the damselflies
That dodge and swerve from bats
And birds and broken swinging branches
That fall between the newly
Planted birches that were
Put there by my father
To rejuvenate this land
More at http://www.dantindall.com.
Who knows where the twin went?
It’s been ages and our time is almost spent.
It left home in 1914 in search of greener pastures in oblivion
It has since been nowhere to be found despite our efforts to effect a reunion.
Each time we send a delegation
It would return with a false declaration.
Proclaiming ‘peace and security’
When in reality
The conjoined twin had gone beyond our vicinity.
More at https://www.facebook.com/whilltree.
The bed of river
sands
civilization dead
only the steadfast climbing
of pillars, relics of an ancient
past, steps leading to an
arcade
capturing history in
moments of transgression.
The sea winds by,
couples sit on a bench
loving,
History creeps in timelessness
I watch in upper Assam
temples a carnival of ceremony
a park where they worshipped Lord Shiva,
all along the river meanders,
so does history.
The ocean
in your eyes,
in its depth,
moves me.
Your smiles
like the juice
of Marula
and the beauty
of your carved lips
do enchant me,
to mime the most
vast deluge of songs
captivating from
Bantuland to Chelsea.
From Mombasa
to Singapore,
You’re the ancient
antiquity,
priceless like Benin
bronze
whose startling myths
depict my soul
Vist Shola at http://www.facebook.com/shola.balogun.184.
—–
Shola Balogun, playwright, poet and writer is from Yoruba,
southwestern Nigeria. He received his Masters Degree in Theatre Arts from the University of Ibadan, Nigeria, specializing in Literary and Dramatic Criticism. He was the winner of the First Educare Trust’s Olaudah Equiano Poetry Prize (2002) and the Festival of Peace Poetry Award (2005) organized by the Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan. He is the author of a collection of poetry, The Cornwoman of Jurare and Other Poems (2007). His books The Wrestling of Jacob, Praying Dangerously: the Cry of Blind Bartimaeus, and Death and Suicide In Selected African Plays, are available at Amazon and select bookstores. His play, Egue Eghae, is ready for the stage. Shola Balogun also writes stories for children. His Yoruba background and encounter at
the age of 21 with the poetry of John Donne and William Shakespeare
influenced his creative writing.