samedi 4 juin 2011


(For Welle)

By Tikum Mbah Azonga

Is love real
Or is it just a hollow sham?
Is it papered over cracks
Or yet another act of shoddy contrition?
Why does our church pastor think it`s all sweeping under the carpet?
What, for God`s sake, is this love?
This demon I can neither touch nor see
Yet daily it blows in the wind
If it be a flower, then which is it?
Is it the rose, the daffodil,the carnation?
The tulip? The anemone? The gladiolus? The Iris or the rhododendron?
Tell me then; tell me all about it. Will you?

Shall I then never strike this deal
In a world where everything tastes like ham?
Can I blur the writing on its tracks?
Or must I first blow the moderator`s trumpet?
I thought I had hit the treasure trove
And so I quickly wrote to Basel
But look what I have got on the hind
Surely not enough theories or hypotheses to posit
So, when shall I find my long lost love and hold it without frills?
Does it mean I`ll never dance tango for two?

Copyright 2011

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