Poetry with an african penance

afrikan re-animation

By Christian Mowarin

7 k o o b y a l p y r t e o p

...If you wondering who I am, Am the early morning hazy architecture Who sends a chilly cold down your spine And no matter how hard you try You just wont recognize me The new wind that carries your mood Am the oil that burns out the night for you You need not know where I play Am that linear particle in your gaze That cosmetic glint escapade in you That set the playground ready to play Christian Mowarin

an oxygen paperback July 2010

For my mother, clara

Childhood Premonition

I will grow up one day To be a man in afrika The wake of the Morning will greet me With ever open arms The cold seems far now I know I couldnt draw A picture of my life Without becoming alive too The front corner sees me A child playing hard A hard days date I watch his trajectory Then his simple spline All his beautiful form Take mine From me As we travel miraculously Into the daylight antics Into this new chemistry This blue energy so strong So profound Now I am him in all New and in all spirit But what will I do He just stood and stare I reach out too for his hands Of course they were mine To hold and cherish This practiced nostalgia Do I want to be me Will I let go to go home Am I in control But wait a minute Who cares Why worry when you are A child of innocence An open opportunity To live again To love again To be loved again And again

The drummer boy

I am just an aging drummer boy, Life I use to visibly live Waiting for my time to go And I've called the tune Many times a play with the villagers Now they say I am nothing And I'm fading away fast Oh my ancestors in Odenigwe Please bring me a new witness For I have been cursed but done nothing wrong My crime is that I grew so old I legalized good and merry times I called it cold melody and local relief I have not gone with anyones money, But I have hid for fear like a thief I have history with an old melody The memories running old on me and my pixels fading away fast Oh my ancestors in Odenigwe Please bring me paper witnesses For I have done nothing wrong My only crime is that I grew so old

Drummer boy II

I can still hear their laughter I cant still hear their smiles As they make jest of me But I can still hear my own song I tried to be civil For am a gentle and cold soul I have lived behind walls With green geckos and wild fireflies That have made me so close and alone Striven for peace which I have never ever known and I'm fading away fast My crime is that I grew so old Please bear me witness For I have done nothing wrong My crime's I grew so old A life I lived conscientiously A life I never grew to like Now a shame every time and everyday I look back to the old time Odenigwe I wept the day you Made me a village Made me fiends The day you made me A crime I know not

Listen through your heart

If you listen through your heart You will hear me calling out to you Nothing can hold my voice now Am running wild in your color Did the summer in your backyard Get my message through to you?

Am that beautiful smile you Wear just like a simple dress All the year round ...If you wondering who I am, Am the early morning hazy architecture Who sends a chilly cold down your spine And no matter how hard you try You just wont recognize me The new wind that carries your mood Am the oil that burns out the night for you You need not know where I play Am that linear particle in your gaze That cosmetic glint escapade in you That set the playground ready to play

The beginning of salvation

The rest of us managed a remake To the tune of our own adventure Am only in the truce of things In the wake of seeing things together In a turn around of our burns In the beginning of salvation All the movement is starting g to reign In the moment of our return journey Being the reason that we woke An intellectual journey of mischief and saves Standing beside me and watch the oranges grow Wondering why we ever stood there The reign now down the drain The return journey was over crowded with strength The rivers between spaced between our lives What is freedom if you can't experience it?

We began to ask as the land further spread itself Trying triangles for trying times they say Born into a life of full of benevolent strategies And leave the times like they ever made of danger Which we stare at in full glory Our truth and lies clashing head on with thumbs

The river above

The river runs right Through towering over our heads It's wet dues suffocative This land is calling us This place has a spirit The ancestors lived here Long ago fighting long battles The field evergreen scanty Becorns to us whispering Our bones twitched and tingle The shivers helping us heal The rhythms of a ceased land The voices of our ancestors Resonate in infinite reverb The future is sad, made sad But still remembered by those Who fought for it's freedom Who forth destiny abound And plays the golden trumpet Of wars won in tangerine mountains So we can live in harmony

Africa. An idea

Afrika is revelation Afrika is fascination Afrika is motion Africa is acceleration Afrika is notion Afrika is emancipation Afrika is proclamation Africa is diffusion Afrika is distinction Afrika is national Afrika is graduation Africa is proliferation Africa is personalization Afrika is concession Afrika is revolution

Africa is mystics

Afrika is my Mystics And a Silver lining for me Always Very Resourceful And Roomy enough Pragmatically Exotic in style Sometimes stays too Salty But Free to roam The luxury Art of illustration The Gift of maiden nature Carelessly Rich in tuner tunes Beautiful and bold as ever The Earth knows Wireless winning With her Soul A brand new Passion to peep So skinny and Skin deep Its Texture continuously thinks Of home and home made soup Home sweet home is afrika My holy holy paternoster Africa, me and mine

Orange Sunset

The skies calls out to me in whispers Everytime I run a mile with a smile from home It says loverboy I will sing you a melody If you marry me before twilight The evening hues envelopes me with it delicate skin Anytime I see through a sea of palm gaurds It says give me an Ankara loin cloth I will cover you with an orange sunset The beautiful twilight reside just at my backdoor Taking my heart everywhere it goes Hello, May I get in back in full swing It says please make me rest before sunshine My dinner still steams of the late stews The taste managing to make a mark on me It says savour me with your rich and brown flavour And I will glow endlessly in your riches

Scents of an african spell

The setting sun slowly Glide past as the rays move The shadows in my room It's map corrugates my finger's Furrow as it's violet ray Punched warmth in my reflection Been aging there a while Near the open yet closed shutters Been dying slowly since that day Pondering why I had to remain unattended What is it this world have turned What is this paradise slave landscape Could it be the day have cast An irrevocable spell on my genre With the pulmonary thongs piecing through With hopes and beams of an upturned begining Enchanted encapsulated in burnt dimensions?

Night life burns slowly Is he coming to bring the light Or is he coming to take the life The magic wand, the one The energies that will power us The living spirits that will guide us The sons of the noble ancestors

A race in time

A new life a new lifeline A new taste a new testimony A new motive a new motif A new magic a new imagination A new feeling a new calling A new congress a new congregation A new god a new guidiance A new wave a new craving A new reason a new resolution A new console a new consultation A new machine a new machination A new purpose a new proposition A new belief a new relief A new message a new passage A new oxygen a new energy A new passion a new caption

afrikan re-animation

By Christian Mowarin

7 k o o b y a l p y r t poe

NOTES

an oxygen paperback July 2010