In Memory Of Mama Maya- a year after

My mama of the ink
time has stolen our bliss
leaving me clueless
and restless

tears have been shed
words have been penned
yet time and time again
questions arise

from afar you taught me
to guard my pen with zest
and spill to draw strength
in troubled times

Mama Maya
down the road, you’ve gone
yet your words live on
and your grace resounds

here I am
alone but not lonely
for my pen has been my
worthy crony
when all leave me to myself

Mama Maya
I sit
holding on to the anklets
wrapped around your legs
gleaning from your table
of wisdom
as you pen away the cares
of this times

Mama Maya
your works speak
of hope
on wings of growth.

    Maya,
the wordsmith
whose words smite
the hurts hurled.

Light is seen
where darkness once ruled.

Gathering of Words

Take a cab from facebook junction, tell the driver you would be be alighting at poetry avenue.
Walk into the street till you get to an intersection called words close. Take a walk into the close till you arrive at Maureen’s estate.
Take a longer walk head-on for about 5 minutes till you get to the door marked purple ville.

Pause.

Proceed to knock.
Before you even make contact with the gate it will be flung open screaming poet alert! poet alert!

Walk right into the living room to a room filled with words and a dining table serving lyrics.

Looking forward to seeing you soon.

BLANK ME

The bush path,
that led to nowhere,
now leads directly,
to where my heartbeat strayed.

The forsaken path,
now leads to a goldmine.
A place where every wishes to tread.

A place,
which was once a dump site,
where scavengers, scavenged for debris.
Passersby make faces,
as they walk past the heap of debris.

The forgotten,
has become a fresh memory,
that wishes not to be erased.