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Stratosphere Disturbed by Josaya Muianga

Josaya Muianga | September 2nd, 2015 | a poem a day challenge, poetry | No Comments

[tabs tab1=”Poem” tab2=”Poet Bio”]

[tab id=1]Our conversations,
Plain and simple like the lofty fascinations of a little child;
The words themselves,
A whirling Indian monsoon backed by a willing current,
I suffer sun stroke and dire contusions, Dried brittle knees from a crisp cut-throat
Sun of an angry black woman.

But oh,
She can feel me too!

The splintered rays fuming with a fiery hunger,
I devour the roots, stems
Turn them loose and naked
My rage is evident in the barks of a dying tree,
Dead and still dying with its lone raven eagle losing the
Distinction of its distinct crowned feathers
And you are there —
This frail,
little stubborn thing
Parched in the rage of my insatiable desert.

Woman,
I implore you,
To surrender.

And yet through all this,
She still finds the strenght
To laugh,
The laugh of saturated ease.

(And your lady friend
asks,
What kind of a woman is this?)[/tab]
[tab id=2]Josaya Muianga is cool, relaxed young lad who is into art, life, adventure and books. He fancies himself the president of The Republic of WickedLand[/tab]

[/tabs]

4.5 (90.2%) 98 votes
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