Poem: Low Moments
Were tears a flute playing sad tunes,
my eyes would be the masters hand
Were fears a futile play of sweet song,
my hands would be reeds against wind
Were cares a feeling of great guilt,
my heart would be a caged bird
Were dares a repeat of failure,
My mind would be a bootstrap
Were scares a fling of terrified emotions
my skin would be horrifying music
Were prayers a fruitless attempt at faith
my mouth would be a fallen saint
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Njeri Wangari
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njeriwangari(at)gmail(dot)com
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1 comments:
Hi N.W
I must admit this are lovely poems. When else do you perform and where?
I have been following your blog for a while and it is really very inspiring and informing. I am a poet and runs the blog Two Hours Before. Your blog actually inspired me to do it also and i must tell you that your woprk is actually excellent.
Unfortunately, i have never been able to attend the live performances. I lives and works in Githunguri-Past Kiambu, and it is actually not possible to attend the performances most of which takes place late in the evenning.
Anyway, i will keep tuned and hopefully will get an opportunity to meet you and may be attend your performances. I would appreciate to know any weekend performance and notably the one taking place during convinient hours.
thanks
email: fafdays@gmail.com
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