Treasure Island

Paul Mwenelupembe


A Crier At Hora


A crier, dripping and dripping
A crier at Hora
Tears of bees overflow the bucket
And rivers over popular at Hora
And lead to the elephant water body

Arms in akimble and legs
Falling from heaven like snow
Oh, why? why? why? why?
Wretched and wretched at Hora
And feeling very doodling sorry
And tears are cooking bread

And that nose says yes
Yes my slippery road at hora
And the face adorned with ridges
And so huge that sparks inside Hora

The essence, at Hora?
Is folded and rolled
In this crier's memory at Hora

Submitted: Tuesday, November 20, 2012
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Hora is a hill found in Mzimba district in the northern part of Malawi. Hence this poem resembles it. This is full of personifications, Irony and Idiomatic. The poems stands for the problems that we human encounter or meet in our lives that make us remember about our past. There are sorrowful times and happiest ones aswel, so the personna in here founds himself crying over his past elemental picture memory. It can be the death of his loved one, my be the unfulfilled promises, and may be the blink future. This poem is all about that!

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