Paul Mwenelupembe


Turn Of Screws - Poem by Paul Mwenelupembe

The sea, what a fee to see
Pinned on the beach, hardly I to say
Seen the tides, what a tides to ripe
The weather belching, on brimes of my lips
The clouds, what a clouds littered in the universe
Taken up I the storm remembered my story
It blew over the languid sky, what a liquid in the sky
Amid nails the temple was laid to pay
It went, what a go into fresh of my soul
Kept on my eyes I throwing page of my book
Over the body laughing, what an open bodies to cry
It was a bull in the slaughter house of flamed land
Tides crawled slowly, what acrawl on the floor
In my face I faced my fence a swash to a back swash
Like a surf on water, what a surf on the blues
That grinned sightly turned I the screws to fly
A bag of bones what a bag to carry on
As clouds filled my head if the body took to heels
My skin in the sun pierced, grew again
As gradual as smouldering charcoal, what a frame to see
The sea, my seat stood still in storks missing storm


Poet's Notes about The Poem

No matter how big the problem can be it will come to an end. Here the poet is refering the sea as a platform upon which all tragedies happen, the clouds is the sign of these problems. All in all problems end by just believing in Jesus Christ.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 31, 2013



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