Tis over – the pandemic. Few have survived
so many old friends, far too many gone.
After a long while, I make a return to Ward 9.
Whom shall I fraternize? With whom am I to share
the melancholic joy that ‘m still living?
Yet, that ventilator still hums; careless of my presence.
I am now a stranger, known to no one here
alone on the sideline, long since forgotten
and where my bed once lay, another has taken occupancy.
Yet life goes on, paramedics, nurses and doctors
young and old buzz around, nursing the sick
committed to duty – selflessness that earns medals.
Yet none I now know of that I could tip my hat to,
whose eyes would offer me a welcome recognition
I hope ‘m not too late, too late to have said: “THANK YOU!”
© Ugo Nkwoala. Spilledwoords, 2020
A fortnight today,they will rationalize their actions –‘Keeping the Peace’and forget what they did. There was no CLAMP DOWN! A fortnight today,their victims would still reminisce;their ordeal they’ll pass on fromfather to child, from siblings to neighbors. There was a CLAMP DOWN! A fortnight today,how quickly Propaganda will rewrite historysay it once, say it again […]
Nothing works against the successof a scheme so much as a wish to makeit wholly secured n’ sure to succeed.Such an attempt requires many men,much time and very favorable conditions;these heighten the risk of being discovered –how daring, how O dangerous!Yes, Conspiracy has a human heart –cold n’ calculating, fearsome n’ fearful – most unscrupulous. […]
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The will to power destroys the power to will.The weapon made, we cannot help but use it;it drags us with its own momentum still. The power to kill compounds the need to kill.Grown out of hand, the heart cannot refuse it;the will to power undoes the power to will. Though as we strike we cry […]