Quame Boatmann Poems

Will the church ever change?
Its beginning was like a rose flower
Blossomed bright red soft petals
With fresh moist emerald sepals
...

Life isn’t eternal, we’re not immortals
Three scores and ten years
We’ll leave these temples
Not by our will, else we linger
...

‘Can I get a ride? ’
Stood your hail of pride,
With the sun burning you up
Your feet weary, and your gut dried up
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She called me like a cab
Right hand in pocket
Left hand says come
From road’s other side
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You are the one I’m to be with
Throughout my entire life
So as to accept me
Even after my corruption
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Help! Help!
Fall in! Fall in!
The voice was a petrified one
Yet nothing came from anyone
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There it stood, so tall and wide
Taking the space of all our world
The tainted glass
And we stand in front of it alone?
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It is here
The day we all anticipate
The day that marks the end of the first beginning
That we’ve been waiting for ages, it seems
...

We were given breakfast for supper
Though we had a watery porridge with no sugar
And a lean bread as heavy as the fluffy fibre
this morning
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Hurray! we’ve found it!
After many years of toil and pain
We’ll no more lose but gain
Our leaders seemed nonchalant
...