Exquisite Sun-Day Poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema

exquisite sun-day

clear as the sky that blues over my head
rays of the rising sun emitting on my skin, but not red
said i’d rather stand than sit
walk on my feet
like a black talon
on a donkey wagon
simple but random

sitting on a rock-stone
as if i narrated from the “cemetery of the mind”
….sigh!
one such piece of art detained my thought
….it read in part “when love’s perished”

picked a pen and a sketching pad
on my lap i wrote not about sadness nor happiness
neither were it fiction or true story
needless to say, i saw a kori
looked at it as it flew away not in despair
spreading vividly its wings like a flair

wondered not at ease as if it had just ended
summoned on this rock-stone not offended
either by serenity nor tank engine, all blended
how if i never knew from whence it began
need i declare my whishes not a heathen
didn’t i long tell you it were not hidden
what else need i mention that not sicken
tell i before i stand my body
and carry this rock-stone to my shawty
nah! to my one lady
tell her that happened on this exquisite sunny sun-day

i guess not about humans
i press hot and sort out pagans
‘am not mocking but talking whilst walking
‘t is a walk-talk
but prayer and a king solomon’s psalm
a congo drum
to calm
my body and soul to my palm
on an exquisite sunny sun-day….

ntema, o.p.
ntema85@yahoo.com
©28.08.2011
0725hrs