When Poetry Is Absent Poem by Kenneth Maswabi

Every now and then
I become detached from my inner self
Like a polluted river
Carrying loads of toxic waste
I become the sludge of toxic thoughts and emotions
Wittingly poured into my body, mind and soul
By the thick cloud of uncertainty
Enveloping the skies of life
Like a dry river bed
My existence feels deserted
The sounds of my flowing passion are no more
The force that quenches my thirst
Clearly absent from the furrow of my existence
Like a winter night
The air becomes thickened with hostilities
Cold wind blows through my frozen world
No clouds of Silence
To calm my body, mind and soul
Torn from the sanctity of my inner being
I am now an inhabitant of the outer self
No poetry to calm my nerves
Everything looks dry and rigid
The pedestal of hope lies broken on the ground
The thick cloud of hopelessness covers the sky
A dark deluge of fear is fast approaching
Certainly I cannot stay here
I have to go back to my sanctuary
I have to find a way to calm my nerves
I have to submerge my body, mind and soul
Into the realm of Silence
I have to be still
The path to my inner being
Totally wedged inside the Silence
I have to find the door to my inner self
And maybe then I will pour myself onto the fabric of life
I will find the words to describe my harrowing ordeal
I will write poems about hopelessness, fear and uncertainty
I will be safe inside the fortified walls of the inner being
I will be home inside the realm of nothingness

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