Eric Mwenda Poems

I hear them
whisperin
in the dark shadows

They are beckoning
me
...

So tragic
That i should cry
with my father,
like he cried with his
...

I alone
shall sit
on emporor's seat
and bleed my pen
...

Get up!
You screw up of the day,
calabashes lay broken
for cows done gone dry
...

I dug trenches mama
not holes for potatoes
or maize
to await the rains
...

Someone..
Turn on the lights
is this the coming of the train?
The ultimate express scapegoat.
...

Yea, that there
it freezes these galloping seconds
and puts stop
to everything about.
...

How sweetly sweet
sings the sages,
of a coming sun
that beats the night,
...

If the bludgering blows
they never cease,
you are the board
that never creeks.
...

From the roses
and maidens
and riches
and everything
...