The making of Darfur--the movie assignment

SOME LOVER

I love there pretty,I love there surely

The ground your light feet touches

Exceedingly for years i’ll remember

And be bound to deliver your home vine

Over the seasons, dry or wet

I shall dress you in my leather coat

When the sky bleeds and for the cold

I’ll set you up my shoulder to pluck

The unreachable apples of summer

And shut the mouth of beast’s and smite

And be a lover amid all the clock ticks

You my lover, are a bliss of my eye

And i shall love there, though to spirit

We came and shall return

Going on

The bitter sweat on cracked lips
Stinking sweat between the
Gorges of my stinking worn buts
Sand grains in my peeled shoes
And the blisters are down to flesh
I’ve long gone, long predestined
And long forgotten how I’d start
This dreamed odyssey, that urged
My soul to perceive and preserve
That I should carry on and on
And going on, till the quest’s mastered

There are still mountains, still
Canyons and deadly thorns
Still brutal elements to taste
How’s my endurance and my vow
Is it by strength or by a vain dream?
That I should carry on to this surprising
Never reached by saints point
And still going on and on

Like the myth said, do not give up
The universe rewards, him who’s tired
And still determined to carry on
It’s the heart of the tiger, the heart

Of a wariour, a strong desire
That catalyst through all labyrinths
And lastly finds its light in the nick of
Giving up, go on!

HARDCORE

From all that ails the world
That the creators created
That affects others
All forming a hardcore
Swelling his heart
Making helpless sighs

From hope he retreated
He couldn’t stand it
He was involved enough
Nothing was left
All thoughts were crooked

And his soul, the Creator
To take, he prayed

“Oh, heaven, take me away
Take me back, if necessary
Wind back time and
Unborn me”

As if heard, soon
Fate takes charge
It swept its whip
In the bottom of
His heart

The echo pieced
Within his ears
And more sighs
Groaning-groaning

To much noise
Much disturbance
Only hadn’t he
The ears and eyes
He couldn’t had seen
And heard

These two different pairs
They’ve gathered all along
Till now, twas heavy
He couldn’t fly, his soul
Weighted

His heart vibrated
Inside his soul, he saw him
It wasn’t a dream
But his spiritual identity
His conscious condition
In a vision

Under aching barefoot
Toiling
The earth shaking
He was staggering
Under the influence
Of the subconscious war

Of course knowing
The same drum
Someone as well’s playing
The hardcore beat

But should he surrender
This journey
Since this will of
To be and not to be
It wasn’t his mother
Or father to sign

“Oh heaven, impartially
Are you?”

He wept, from all thousand tears
These became his last ones
And died a sad man
Hoping an explanation
From his God

The baobab root

Strengthened, the baobab root

That wound underground

That pushes through the rocks

Separating all that awaits

Like a wriggling worm

The patience, slow and sure

All the way down, clamming

Tugging the source, water and earth

Sucking and swelling

Sucking and swelling

The heat of the sky, above

Foliage barricades

Tight trying-tight shading

Restraining the sucking sun

But still spotlights are there

There under the shadow

The root pushes-meandering

Sucking and swelling

Sucking and swelling

swelling the trunk

Exuberant, leaves forming

The branches stretches, heaved

The early fruits, the green leaves

All hailing to the root

As well birds of the air

Dwell secured within the height
Through all the seasons

The baobab root toils

Breasting for growth

THE URCHIN BIRDS

Down in the street corners,
There are sad children mocking faces
Strongly urging for our compassion
Their loved ones deprived long time ago
The only will for their survival
Like the birds they wander and picks
And we say humanity
Where is the reflection?
And we say togetherness
Don’t our eyes see and our conscious feel
Aren’t they amongst us?
Certainly, let God alone
There ought to be something we can do!

Now that you've gone

Now that you’ve gone!
I wash my sore soul sweet by
Fraying imaginations
Of precious love-
Our very acts and not
Exaggerations

Without ease, but truelly slow
For these truly we had shared
That of my good were yours
And yours were mine

And my bad I’d endure regrets
From your lovingly reprimands
I didn’t argue, I didn’t hate you
But I’ve bore you as my only
Heavenly pearly, a mentor gift for me

But now that you’ve gone,still
Your path I stroll ease
Now alone, pale and lonely
Now that you gone!

SHAKESPEARE

This fellow dead writer

How he made my heart ache

I saw his characters

Surrounding my bed

At strange night time

Their deem gloom eyes

Freaking me with pale

Grave impression

But should not i chicken

For if i do, tomorrow, i’ll

Set his loads on fire

I’ve seen his horses

Great strong gallopers
With sure, they moved

And stomped my head

Mounted, his made up

Knights enveloped in

Vicious winds and mist

Swiftly kicking the earth

And
Calling“Attack–attack,

whoever not born of woman

shall die tonight”

His evils, his heroes

His masqurade comrades

His pen and papers

And his brain, filthy and clean

At once–how can that be?

For he called God, He called

The devil and say, hey two felloz

Give me moves, I've seen

I've felt, I've known

And i must confess

I LIKE MY MOM

I like my mom, she’s love
The morning milk splash
In my dear loving porridge
The pudding and the cake
Of last year birthday
In all these she’s the delight

Bedtime stories, she’s also
Author—the very best untold
I love her fairy lands and the
Characters from old Bimbo
The little swindling hero
To Violet, the fairy born of flower
He charming eyes that flies roses
And brightest stars

She calls me sweet—she calls me
Darling, she calls me naught
When I lick my plate in satisfaction
She gives me honey—she gives me
More care, when I’m sick I need no
Nurse I did rather prefer my bed
And let her do the nursing

I like my mom, she’s compassion
The tear drops from my dad’s scolding
With her palm gently weeping away
And the embrace by her softly bosom
Makes me ache for my babyhood time
To suck her breast and fall asleep

THE LITTLE STORY

Somewhere down the Broadway Street
There is a little butcher’s daughter
She's waiting for her little boyfriend
With a khaki paper wrapping a little meat
Her boyfriend got a little story
It ain’t hard, it ain’t easy, it's just
This couple is trying to make ends meet

It’s always the ego for a little something
That makes life prevail in a little way
I the writer got a little story too
Which is this, with this little couple?
It ain’t hard, it ain’t easy, just
A piece of paper and a broken pencil

This daughter got a little story too
She’s waiting to explain
The little thing in her belly
However she’s sure, herDaddy is to freak

It’s always a little chilli in the soup
That makes her daddy gas out rage
She’s thinking to elope with her boyfriend
But afraid that he won’t buy that
A little work, a little money
Her boyfriend is to find it hard
To afford, the little baby and the girlfriend

A little food, a little medicine
You can’t say this is a little stress
For her boyfriend, he’s all alone
If this little story don’t change the better
One of the little couple is to commit
A little suicide
Where this little story would leave us?
I say it’s got to be a big story