Poets' Corner
Walking the line
I grate the sandsQuickening my steps
In successive alert.
Thru the strings
That bind my soul.
I can't hear the
Pulsating beat;
Resounding an echo
From in-depth precepts
Which brought me here.
Here, here,
Where I am
Only to pass to sand
Replenishing it
In hard-core memory
The others I can see;
Scattered in diverse colours
Into a million arrays
Of signs
Piercing in retreat,
The mirror image of decency
And when we come
To our own,
We are not ours.
Just a replicate
Of the breath that forbore us.
Now marching into one;
One homogenous whole
A zigzag-straight.
Akeh-Ugah Ufumaka
Bronx, New York
Don't speak for me
Don't speak for meBut let me be
I know who I am
Because I am me
I break out like the day
Which drives the night away
So please
Don't speak for me
Don't speak for me
But let me be
Yesterday I was
And today I am
Only my volcanic eruption
Is for my tomorrow
So please
Don't speak for me
Don't speak for me
But let me be
For you are you
And I am me
The presence of the ant is felt
When its bite is deep
So please
Don't speak for me
Ato Imbeah
