Poems by Nancy Ndeke
is not wreckless, neither wretched,
It’s just so persistent,
That death makes it live,
While pain in it’s pursuit,
Is the flags of earned integrity,
Forming foundations firm,
On today’s lived threats.
Navigating the spiraling smoke,
From an escaped chute,
The chefs busy hands clap,
Past the known goals,
Drinking islands and isles,
Charting routes to your bed,
While you stagger under foggy old lines,
Drawn by an escaping tenant,
Appetites soaring sharp,
To feed an ego,
One that knows not enough,
Or common decency,
In pursuit of what in the first place,
Was never it’s own.
The dust afloat is a ploy to Troy.
WAKE UP LATE AT YOUR OWN PERIL.
Bearing dreams of a bloated tango,
Arouses depths, only History knows,
For the blind of heart,
Are accursed to repeat,
What the blind of eye see.
Stuck on the crossroads of lies,
Direction remains charted.
Down the archival walls,
Where tales of demagogues,
And Dictatorial gods,
Rot in stinking reminders,
On inglorious shame of bent minds,
In pursuit of awe and grandeur for the puny self.
Terror rules equally, if unfairly,
The bored club of bold gods,
Sweats Sinister claims,
Over a sleeping child,
Taking plunder to another level,
Such as heightened gobular greed,
While innocence wanders in the shadows of survival.
© Nancy Ndeke