Godfrey Mutiso Gorry

AFRICAN WRITINGS

If you meet literature from Africa Or even their mentors In such works You realize a trait of madness Pumping into the throbbing poetics. There is a knack in it that sparks alight The

This country nurtured hope

This country nurtured hope decayed, The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler, The thief. Feeling the base of his belly. There is a slum in my heart But I cannot relocate it to my

THE GARDEN OF DEATH

Weak but alive Dying yet still alive Huge eyes Round like golf balls White as bones Bony framed Fleshless Pus in orifices Worms Teeth, white teeth Skull and bones. Am sorry for life Oh

PUBLISHERS

And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the

AN ODE TO MY JAILED FRIEND

Unmasked – The spirits’ face is a black hole Swallowing the celestial beauty Of the stars. Caged – The sentinel is crouched Subsumed in seething pain Not pain but anger of being guiltless Yet