soulful

Ignorance

Whimpering sighs,

Soulful eyes,

Disgrace is clearly seen,

Serene in trance,

Limping by, silent...

In a dream.

Welts and bruises decorate,

Regret and shame,

"So second rate",

She smiles....

      ....and I, the passerby.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

this is about abuse and how it is so often silent and ignored

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Brooks to You

Ugonna Wachuku 

 

You did not leave those birds all
alone on the pathway. You did

plant flowers and dimples on lush
gardens of glow and smiles. 

You gladly did walk to that

bright blushing beat from the

enchanting eagle's empowering 

humble heartbeat heartily

druming itself to you on 

welcoming lush landscapes 

of home.   

 

You did smile on those birds
yearning for bounties in your
inspiring being on enriching

green bush paths of home

scented with sweet smelling

roasting corn and pears.

 

For the rejuvenating first
time, you walked with weary
waterfalls and whispering winds
to living love unbound; to new

uplifting soulful strength in

handsome heaven's heart.  

 

You left the land blooming with
rain and rainbow. You walked to
the eagle clad in your brilliant
blue cloud. You cultivated the
land for heaven's enriching
harvest from the earth's
welcoming womb. 

 

Yet, you did not leave those
brilliant birds and little me
to wallow in pain and longing
anguish through a heart

wounded at story time.

 

You gave most of your

peaceful soul made whole
by merciful, glorious grace:

So, let me send these abundant
brooks to you. Let me send this
mountain-faith moonbrook lush
to you. Let me see the soothing
stream you gave humankind!

 

Being nature's humble child,
let me send these peaceful
brooks of my heart to you.
Let me send you heaven's
natural nimbus clothed
with fragrant flowers
and refreshing streams.
Please, just let me send
these bountiful brooks to
soulfully beautiful you on

green pastures abiding! 

 

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Make Me Whole

Ugonna Wachuku

 

The day drags on slowly.
But there are gardens and
flowers to be planted.

 

There are seeds to be
sown for the harvest.
There are shadows and
dreams to be seen.

 

There are tears to be
shed; and smiles to be
given on the threshold
of a new beginning.

 

In my soul;
in the deeper me;
far from the world
and heart that you
know in me, lies that
yawning yearning to
live; to drink from
your life-giving well.

 

With tears and pleas;
with a broken heart and
shattered dreams, I state
my pain. I shed tears.

 

I share my dreams
with you; my longings.
I bring my broken pieces
to you; the Potter's
Hands.

 

When, at last, I find
my narrow way to that
eternal abode of your
loving grace, I will
fall flat; and my only
plea will be that you
make me whole. 

 

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Where are the Beautiful Ones?

Ugonna Wachuku

 

Nothing seems real.

Not even your face.

Not even your tears

and laughter.   

 

Silent voices are

here.

Everything is

silent.

Everyone is

silent.

Even you.

 

Streams and waterfalls

are silent too.

Love is also silent

if you know what

I mean. 

 

My heartbeat is

silent for the

first time.

Now, I must rise

and go to your

beckoning, silent

heart.   

 

Drumbeats from deep

forests of home sound

no more because we are

all silent.  

 

We have entered the

time of no return

in starring faces of

newly born souls.

Now is the time to

take up our mats

and search for love. 

 

Let us head for

silent rivers and

streams.

Let us meet nature

in the day's

refreshing silence.  

 

Let us stand

empty.

Naked.

In nothingness.

Let us bleed from

wounds by these

fragrant roses.  

 

Let us search for

the beautiful ones.

Let us ask where

the beautiful ones

are.

?

?

?  

 

Days are short.

nightfall must

not meet us

because there

will be no

moonbeams. 

 

So, let us rise;

and in the silence

of our bountiful

hearts, search for

the beautiful ones

because we can.   

 

(c) Ugonna Wachuku: 2000

 

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