John Sensele Poems

Women with large hearts
Offering doses of love to upstarts
Seldom grasp the magnanimity
They aplenty offer in amity.
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Sombre songs steer my emotions
When my heart hinges on dodgy devotions.
Sombre songs delight my soul
If for other souls I score a genuine goal.
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Fantasies deceive
Ensure reality we perceive
Judgment day to you and I comes
It matters not if we dwell in suburbs or slums.
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Paint me a panorama of trigonometry
In classrooms glistening with geometry
To the tune of pluses and minuses
In unison, we'll cure cosine sinuses.
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Here
In the covid 19 era
Conspiracy theorists spread fear
In the cauldron of error.
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Self pity, a self defeat syndrome
That in no way enriches the home
Progress rises from concerted efforts
Injected into initiatives to strengthen fledgling forts.
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Dwell not on self pity
Dwell on self worth in the city
Though meagre living you eke out
Penury no reason to germinate doubt.
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A song of the peasant farmer who grows maize
Cultivating loam soils, planting sorghum seeds under the glaze
Of the tropical sun, cattle draught power harnessed
Bold backs blessed, hands hassled, breath stressed.
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No bed, no bed, no bed
No pillow for my head
Sprawling on polythene bags
No roof over our hut. June tags
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Black lives flatter
All lives matter
When a demagogue pits American against American
Shoving value and decency into a cantakerous can.
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