joseph orutwa

Rookie - 270 Points (27th sept 1993 / nyamira)

The Far Cry - Poem by joseph orutwa

I heard a voice
clear enough, i had to think twice
A clock, twelve thirty to be precise
when the bells got fat and emotional, a prejudice
Begging, a repetition
blank, soft and pale but clearly conditioned
Please! ! please give
thee shall receive...
With our thoughts soaked
we all walk
talking laughing ignoring the impacts of her sunctioned words, they whispered
I am your fellow sister
please give for you may dine and thrive
we all turn as our hearts turn into steel stones
we ignore, our counscience consuming the hungry tones
she streches as her rugs dance the tunes of her struggles
sweat dripping from her marveling armpits.all looked like shambles
the few coins on her only toy reflected tears and anger
as we moved, her heart guessed on the predicted danger
the fear that the worst might grab the north
yet we all stretched to the south
Touched, my senses Scumb to be thralled
as my soul ignites at the diamond flickers that sparkled
I dip my shaking hands into my pockets
as her imagination widens all visible in her sockets
i could see her judge just as the others trudged
her hopes stepping and building on the fatigue rocks
everything still and silent as the slow ticking time climbed the locks.just to open the knocking door
I am a being, a common man, woman. rational
i swear that nothing i was going to do was either intentional
i thought of the birds with the same feathers
copper as there as was their grandfathers
i popped out a copper coin for the flocks
as i struggled to breath in gasoline sloughs, Slow
endophin of my own fears just as a tear
As the coins rolled to the fellow birds.They matched
looking a like.Perfect
she searched
for words to comprehend.if only she could find it vague
a clear anscent so she could embrace, hug
i can bet she wanted to curse
wondering if really thats what i had in my purse
she wanted to scream, shout, if only the words could climb her swollen throat.A cream
so that i would dream of many dreams with no streams
i could see her ego sculpturing her bones
if a person with a suite and tie.A purse
if really everything was normal relevant to my sole
if really i was worth it or was i not through?
she mumbled
a sample evident in her dimed candle
though it wasn't clear as her instinct's temple
she said something oh something close to thank you
something close to what i wished for a rue
i never cared to know, no! ! not even a glimpse
She was angry it seams
but but
but atleast i was releaved from any hormonal judgement
oblivion from the very fact
I was vindicated.

Topic(s) of this poem: life

Poet's Notes about The Poem

its a beggar in a street

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, July 20, 2014

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