May 25, 2024

by RUDDY FUALEFEH MORFAW A.

From the Ashes 

On blotched scars I inscribe the ultimate lore

Of the mightiest, flossed to the core 

Reclaimed from grime  

Of the careless, and the beasts 

Once kids, with faith, fears and unspoken dreams

Cracked in moulds but never moulded by the force 

Led with ease 

The thought that one day we’ll grace the waves of the coast

And wave back to our history that stood on shore 

In exhilaration yet unsure 

Of the feebleness beyond extinct and untrodden shores 

The gaping eyes of a migrant 

Mixed in grieve, loss,  

A past flushed in the ashes of fires and flames 

Treading through deserts and seas  

Smiling through sobs of the battles not fought yet won

As black, as white  

Through make-shift camps  

That only afforded a beating heart 

But never did wash the bleeder’s hurt

Through these dreams 

Of what more could we wish 

To this morn that we have been tasked 

We may rise a giant from the den 

A phoenix from the ruins 

The words that never were once spoken 

But have been reborn from visions of a past  translated to today’s heroic legend 

We’d rise still from the dust 

Cos we are where we are  

And right here  

We become legends! 

*

Bella 

Because birth bears both a beam of bloom 

And before first breath a beauty emboldened, 

Like then, my breast bathes in beatific beats and bumps

For Bella my baby 

Feathered flowers and fairy fluffy flakes  

I’ll fix four for you, afront a fine cake from three

Favourable years - time funnily feels it flew  

From afore till you’re four 

A bodacious blithe, a buzzing blistering shine 

My Queen bee if ever was to build a beau chateau

Brilliant and sweet – you are 

Still the best bond we bore to your big brother 

Four is for flaunting, flexing, falling and fixing 

A fun-future of faithful memories in perfection’s fuse 

Filled with promises that fuel the foundations of your fortunes

It’s forever a blessed birthday to you my Bella 

Happy birthday!  

*

Nature’s breath

If not food for which we breathe 

That we bruise and crash  

By-passing coordinates to awaited solar glimpses 

What treasure then is that which keeps us going  

What grace was afforded by money, and power 

To men with not a grain from the showers 

What beauty shone from gold,  

To a man too thirsty to behold 

No pleasure truly gratified like a meal’s satisfaction 

The clomp of a sturdy heart  

The intellect of a reasoned mind 

The appeasement of a sulking babe to the milk of its mother’s chest 

That food, one power ever too strong 

For the fool to await in defiance 

To no Fotso, Dangote, nor Gates 

Did it matter from the worth of stocks that change 

It first was not the papers and accolades that adorned the souls

But the fittings that afforded safety from the grave.