John Sensele Poems

Witchcraft, you're a pesky pimple
That messes up the face of Africa
Which aspires to brandish a nimble dimple
Admired in Jamaica, in America
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I vow to befriend happiness
To banish sorrow and its offshoots
Never to run to sadness
Or glorify sorrow boots.
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A mirror reflects the secret visage
You see when you're alone
Battling with the mess message
Your conscience tone and clone
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Wicked world rewards thugs and haunted hugs
Rising in the scale of queens and ruins of bugs
Who step by step my welfare they redefine
Much as brutality and fatality to them fly fine
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Family fertilises faith, utilises and realises fondness
Cultivating culture, culturing worthiness
Joining and juxtaposing juniors and seniors
In a cocktail that every obstacle it clears
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Cap in hand we beg from Johnny Clegg
Cap in hand we flex and hex a limp leg
Cap in hand our dignity and serenity we lower
Worst still, cap in hand our dignity we deflower.
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Yearn for roses of laughter
To glean glows your heart is after
In tune with priceless petals
You pluck from nimble nettles.
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Open not my grave
My pen remains brave
Scribbling tales of resistance
Against the sordid circumstance
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Glass and class houses break
Nepotism and opportunism beneficiaries speak
Cronyism and cynicism policies a system they wreck.
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Decline to lie supine in mines where values die
In a plethora of insipidities that won't cry
When the present haunts vestiges gone extinct
Because you by default embarked on a path where your instinct
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