Biography of Emu Getachew
A woman who wears a shawl weaved out of words...a sister, a daughter and a friend.
Emu Getachew Poems
Conversation With Jo
We can talk for hours and laugh in between He respects my words as much as I respect his thinking There we were choosing human characters from an article Intrinsically we both chose a man who lavish in infidelity
Cold concrete floor and deafening silence locks on every door displaying numbers no names or personalities, no music or kid’s steps just the sound of all seasons rushing to escape
Sailing down the river named serenity ushered by the laughter of summer wind emerging and fading from my senses are time defying moments captured by my mind’s eyes
I Crave Your Eyes, Your Laughter, Your T...
I crave your eyes, your laughter, your touch I crave the smile of your eyes the warmth of your breath the scent of your eyelids
Ink For My Pain
I serve my pen to feed my flesh and my soul extract honey from the alphabets I come alive and true, when I write I have no mirror, no dressing room, no camera, I know no shame
My Ankle Bracelet
I am free at heart, I kowtow to no rules Today, I try to change and bear relationship for two that love has tailored for me carefully but I tried to run away
Songs Of The Sky
His voice, the sound of summer cloud His walk, forgotten music notes
...Before You Came...
My beloved I have much to say, Oh my! where should I start? Before you came...
My Soul Knows You...
Everything carries me to you, and my soul knows you, all my life, I've been dancing to your stories, with you, nights waltz in lucid space,
-i Loved You In November -
I loved you without knowing you, I loved you because I saw you in us, No pride or ego, in which there is no I or you, I laughed in your mouth,
When I Love A Man...
When I love a man, I speak no words nor make sentences When I love a man, I understand the language of the moon and the laughter of the sun.
Ask Me Again
How did we come to be here, ask me again? Quietly, resting with our eyes ajar, intoxicated by each others skin, we are but silence wrapped in spell,
It's like a loud gale... scorching hundred miles an hour leaving bruises at the brim of mother-earth it never stops be it twelve noon or midnight
I Am A Transition
Transition…I think I am? I am a progression! I am the vacancy between the alphabets. My feet travel silently. Back and forth-side to side with a blazing desire to transit. Asking who I am?
In The Morning
Many nights, i have helped unbutton your shirt
And let myself come between you and your skin
Yet in the morning, I feel the tears on my pillow
Fully understanding those trips of sorrow.
What more do you wish your highness
other than what I am able to give.
© 2009 Emu Getachew