By Christian Mowarin

a f r i k a nr e - a n i m a t i o n

poetry playbook 8

The light.It’s comingto get you

The dark.It’s alreadyinside.

I made note of her tension.

That really puts me in detention

Wasn't sure what it signifies

Could i be the advantage later

I want to circle around her

With my cuff brushing against her time

Against her motional pose

Against the spirit of her resemblance

Very material along the dip in her back.

A moment in sleep, a slip in moment

Christian Mowarin

an oxygen paperback

July 2010

The leaders travelled with the sun

Pulling the moon to cover the night

As the sun takes a seat

The happiness knew no bound

The land respects one another

Call it the trajectory paradise of hope

The spirits come out in the open

To play with the new existence

Christian Mowarin

For my mother, clara

Cracks in the wall

His everyday silence echoedIn this night of cacophonyThe only real barricadeIn his way the shifting breezeA con answer to his desperationHe pondered the non-demiseOf a practical human sagaAnother season of closed doorsRectorial nail in a handmade coffin.Darm the day life came

A faint tremor shook himA slow combination ofNerves and stress and fear.Hadn't slept in these cold timesMeals just a window instanceBlue new cloak for the racesStamped in utter stupidityThe trembling, unconventionalA broken rehearsal, cursedThe fear of evil justice at heart

Footsteps, for the powerfulDelilah enters the cinematographySomeone had paused for a moment.The footfall grew nearer, and nearerThe soft heels with a woman's gripHip playing silly with the hopAn arrogance dance of depthPounding against a marble floorNow is the time, the race is now

The east in your hair

I am the east wind in your hairYour friend and a dependable frontierAll Three little glint of sunlightThat cuts you in midday twilightSun-dancing with play gigolosCaught buying oranges in the village

I am the quiet fiction that ragesOn the brink of a sudden blizzardWhen the lizards take a breakOff the sunny concentratesShaking duct dust volumetricsWith grains far from the reignsAnd the rains drawing delusions

I am the eastern harmattanSamaritan near the open droughtWhere the river runs and vaporizesUp and grows to become commonWith the ugbagwu town summonAll the clan red head conflictsThe spirits reincarnates in themAnd the yam farm blossoms

Queen of the darmed

Her fiery eyes stood lacedPanning the ruins in the rummageClawing sounds drowning the pavesMeasured by deadly discretionsUnified by fiends of the firstsFilled with fillets of imaginative filesOutlined by revolutionary carnageHer lengthy fang in manicuredArtistry alliance with the ancestorsA day made for her to exploreA richness made of annihilationBetween the battle of goodAnd the striking evil to ruleSick of humans and humanity reasoning

The rising energy insidepaving way for the seven hornsWith the seven heirs of the dammedThrown into the furnaces of thronePouring vengeance like the windWailing in an eternal waitingFor the aging bottomless pitsTo rise against the new bornsNever been born together beforeBright red torn the day apartWith the rags lazily warped aroundLife creeping out slowly in secretFrom long ago in the dead hutsLife grails trailing me on this timeThey called her the burning one

Cracks in the wall II

The motion smiled at lastFeeling of both regret and hasteTaste of the new diminutionSlave case of cats and dogsSentenced in an agonist remedyNow encaged in unisonToday's the day you revealYour altimeter trust in death

She's here and bows the hourHow on earth she come made it?Shake it off man, shake itThis callous entrapmentThat's of no comprehensionNor beautiful enigma with typosEncryption of the outer mindIn total disarray of purpose

The coarse handwritingBecomes really shakyBegone Dahilla, be goneOh you pleasure of hazardsFilmed as a taxi lanky storyI won't go that far to please youMy demise means nothing to youI despise you greatly, I doStep aside in nonchalanceLet me live and leave this drama

Eye of the mind aka awakened in sleep split

Bright and gleaming eyes reflectIn the damp lamplight grey coverThe mind sound asleepIn sync with the new morningAll its dark lashes and locks withdrawnAm already torn this time Like the devil making a coax bargain

A fine sheen of perspiration secretlyCreeping to gather along her hairline.An indolent posture maintainedMy back against the squabs,New thread of tension laced aheadMatching all the latticework in carriage.Vue gloves dangled from her fingers,The easers forgotten for a moment.

I made note of her tension.That really puts me in detentionWasn’t sure of her attentionDo not know what it signifiesCould i be the advantage laterI want to circle around herWith my cuff brushing against her timeAgainst her motional poseThe spirit of her resemblanceVery material along a dip in her back.A moment in sleep, a slip in moment

We are all natives

The south gave birth to usIn an origin of corrugated cultureOn a cold blooded market dayDevoid of new day promisesPrimary flames diminishedA summer full of bold existence

To mere illuminative backwardnessPoly Fragmentation of inheritanceMade only for marked maggotsSoul reminded of original naturePlenty souls of a skewed mashTailored to fail even in reflections

As the days reverberates pastThe imprint of my grandfatherCame back in a solitary dreamLurid daytime hallucinationsThe prophetic pains follows pullingLike a horse load genres of literature

And his ancestors advancingNothing of any amalgamationBut the new energy allergy wind cameSweeping stories everywhere Feasting the leaves from the grassHomeless the grasshoppers singIn a bad spirited alchemy flowWe are all natives in timeNothing can changed that now

Who are you looking at ?

Who's eyes are you looking at,With and draining the pulseOf the serenity and Serengeti plainsThat the evil forests generate their iterationWhere local rights turned wrongIn the wars of mediaeval AfricaFought to the living death wallsWhere the mind fight to the earlyHours of an imaginative toneBarricaded by human deflectorsIn a connotative story of graceThe animated sun in its smashed raysCorrugated with the bumpy contoursOf nativity colors and originality

Whose blood are you feastingOn At this daring day usurperWho's cataract of bloodAre you dreaming and drinkingBeckoning to the survivorsTo come take their delicious biteAt the sweet spot of the afterlifeAnd the daylight strings play withThe strange spirits that come forthTrue to their beliefs and died for itFor one day only the true righteousWill tell the supreme tale of utopiaThat's hanging above the hammockWaiting of the day to come

Am coming home Africa

I heard your voice in the heights

Of the Kilimanjaro plains in plan

Made to make Manchurian cigars

I heard your words when the wind

Ferried them all across the lines

Of a tailor made Africa where

The lions sleeps with its tamer

Bare headed with twined beads

Their young groan under the

Ikale sofocative makeovers and

Uwakanaba iguana fever

Africa my handmade

Way back in the middle earthThis wild story was bornIn a hand made of sketchesThe rivers runs throughSpilling over as tributariesForming A snake path of gloryA beginning so openSo bright for races to runThe new plants sway awayIn head nods that touches one anotherLetting the water enjoy a stayBefore a ground drinkThe leaders travelled with the sunPulling the moon to cover the nightAs the sun takes a seatThe happiness knew no boundsThe land respects one anotherCall it the trajectory paradise of hopeThe spirits come out in the openTo play with the new existenceThe momentum was good enoughSo is the nsala soupThe epidemic stayed away The clouds performed waterFor the plant audienceMan was far offBut not so far off existenceMan was lurking, now lookingThen he came with handsAnd his friends, the devil’s handsAnd they played theHands that made Africa

I don't want to wake up

Don't wake me nowThat sleepland beckonsCalling out my name in synonymsSilently picking my thoughtsPlacing them in a word ropeOf life only genius shareI keep seeing youEvery now and thenGet away from my dreamsDon't let me scream at youAm going to the marketplaceIt's nkwo day you knowThe native men will be thereThey want to sell their foodI really want to see themThe ones with the white circleIn the rim of their eyesI want to buy food for my miraclesMy imagination needs polishBut I never tell anyone I knowI still have the penny in my pocketThe one for the witch ferryYou think you can make me staySo you can break my metaphorsBut my minds made upYour hallucinations won't workPlace them as postscriptLiterature If you likeLeave me the way I amMy creator shinesDon't wake me Walk with meThe path is nighIt's not so high eitherAm so eagerTo sleep

I love Afrika but it's killing me

I love AfrikaA unforgettable illusionBut I could never forgive herFor the memories it builtThe death it inflicted on meA devil it gave meAnd the gift of hallucinationIt managed to scare me withI would never forget The ghost shadows it played And the life it never gave us

I love AfrikaIt's my mothers grave landBut the sickness it bringsMakes me, my motion skewedThe malaria it fatheredAnd the swells of it chickenpoxThe rage of its sunburnsIt served on its own kind

I love AfrikaIt's beautiful contour furrowsAnd its wild cassava panoramaBut it's killing me every market dayIts thoughts of killing it's own kindFrom the times of our ancestorsTo the new renaissanceWith its own roots and herbs An unforgiving spirit that sickens me

Woman of color

The African Woman of colorBeautiful as a night patch A daughter of the breeze,A new earthenware firedThe corrugations still freshDarling of the greens of akpanmaThe place where the bends of the riverFlow the fastest and yet calmShe's the woman of ebony The Zumba of the timesBaked purely in lasting lapIn the deep rooted clay pitsAnd intrinsic waters of mbimiriOnly ikamiri the great godWho carries the weight of the earthLike a large baby with brass eyesCan prepare in time for creationIt's the African woman of color

Beneath her bosom bareLive snakes amongst her hairSprinkling beautiful radianceEvery where she threadsA golden smile for all seven clansA flash of glow with a litWhen the morning dips deepThe brilliance are all for love,She's the gladiator of dark beauty

an oxygen paperback

July 2010

NOTES