she turned around,
where small girls
hinted on walking to the hillside
and found a burned
animal, washed away
is its bone marrow
forgetting not a braise
she turned to last night.
after chilling cheerios
she turned to a bizarre night
so much morning to know
how her hands were burned.
how her freedom began today
and walked back knowing
her burned cocoon
has yielded into good seedlings,
fond of keeping peace within.
(ii) A sad poem tonight
I need to know why i am not real,
why my outside does not reflect the inside?
my body carry lamps of slavery
and called them beauty,
i know little bit of imperfection alacrity pushes
writing poetry is one of them.
who is not ready to tickle darkness
with his fingers,
my thoughts give me lust for something visible,
placed on the table,
made to burn on my skin,
rasped on my tongue
yet my soul in its existence is an everlasting fire.
i know killing love in me was not the beginning
some started falling on my toes like dry leaves
and smashed them to winds and dust,
it’s through[true] that my dreams were murdered
but today as i look for ways
it’s because i lost my roots during infancy.
god shield me from backwardness of last night,
i know this heart speaks when darkness sneak
into my eyes,
it’s always restless like sun and stars,
like death and shadow who are fond
of following me to the underworld.
i felt some touches tonight
for god’s sake only
my lights will illuminate
when i remember this sad poem tonight
and jot down the last line,
that begins with rain falling inside my heart.
About the Author
Riak Marial Riak, is a South Sudanese poet and writer. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.