it is a kwansaba {seven lines of words less than seven letters}on the futility and essence of things like life and death and the significance of existence.
knurled fingers feebly holding his wearied beads
silent lips. in my heart i felt
the sad weight of other mens sins
strange;the dying glint in his eye
exalted Donne, made quarell with Owen
o death. . .thou shalt not kill me!
Poetry by richard ugbede ali
Read 1308 times
Written on 2006-11-18 at 14:23
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father at terminus
the dying priest lay upon his bedknurled fingers feebly holding his wearied beads
silent lips. in my heart i felt
the sad weight of other mens sins
strange;the dying glint in his eye
exalted Donne, made quarell with Owen
o death. . .thou shalt not kill me!
Poetry by richard ugbede ali
Read 1308 times
Written on 2006-11-18 at 14:23
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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