Ink-Festation... Poem by Merlin Mwaura

Ink-Festation...



Black ink blotting on paper,
the sages are brewing vapor...
onto paper for the educator,
A post script for the narrator,
To spell the doings of investigators,
those who pride through ruins...
collapsing castles in this fluid...
of black residue,
forming points into an avenue,
Questioning clouds while the sky is blue...
We need it to be clear,
Our thoughts and what we hold dear,
We need to be here,
To learn our minds and be near...
to everything that has become clear.

It is an ink-festation,
signing letters and shining leather,
giving birth to thoughtful process,
The flow of wordily progress,
The joys of the gushing torrent,
as the pulsing vein,
like ink, paints and scribbles,
brings life in ripples,
like soft dimples on people...
contesting authority,
over the grain and grass,
of a growing conscience...
an educated guess,
a clumsy feeling is suggest,
by the wave and wind of bold,
letters coming into fold,
joining man and his world,
blood with the sap,
ash with the dust,
breathing and touching life..
yes its tangible,
like a laugh it ripples through...

An ink-festation,
a disease spread consciously..
an addiction to the poetry,
A position savored quietly,
A picture captured directly,
speak truth fluently,
like spreading an epidemic!
the equipments of the academic,
a solitary verse,
to an eloquent mass,
the birth of a generation,
with wills of penetration,
to wink and guise,
The height of their amplitude,
a steady chase of a heart beat,
waking, wanting and asking,
who spread this epidemic?
Am up with an ink-festation!

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