Poetry is dead. Long live poetry!
I’m tired of everyone telling me poetry doesn’t sell, poetry isn’t what the people want nowadays, poetry is dead. I write poetry. And songs. And short stories. This is where some of them will go, for everyone to read. The rules of the game are simple. I don’t plan on writing lengthy explanations as to how or why I wrote a specific piece. I will just put them out there, for you to hail, burn or roll your eyes over and move on. Hence also the name of the blog: Nyota Uhura is Swahili for “Freedom Star” and just so happens to be the name of a lovely character on one of the best TV shows ever: Star Trek. I thought it fitting for a blog that is all about my creative freedom and your freedom to judge it. I can’t promise it won’t get edgy, saucy, emo, sweet, angry, sad or happy. I can promise it will be the truth.
If you choose to ask questions or make remarks in the comments section, be my guest. I will reply to the best of my ability. And there, maybe, if you’re really interested, I will elaborate on whatever you want me to elaborate on.
Live long and prosper.
ANNA
I stayed up all night with myself
And now dawn is breaking
Over the mountains
In my heart a petrol blue calm
Outside my window
Just one star
And I’m looking at the girl I am
And what I see I love and hate
Equally
I’m looking at the girl I am
And catch the smallest glimpse
Of who she could really be
A force pushing its way through the lungs of the world
A superwoman for all womankind
A face whose expression could make
The girl I am now weep
A mother of two
My son Paul
My daughter Mara
My husband Superman
MY wife Wonder Woman
I’m a lover so passionate
My fire burns the skin
If I lose interest in you
Your heart will break
But I will walk away
Without looking back
I’m a lover so devoted
My water is breatheable
And should you lose interest in me
The wound you’ve inflicted
Will never fully heal
This woman will never need high heels
To walk proudly among men
This woman will do just as she pleases
And walk proudly among women
I’ll be sugar and spice
And all things nice
I’ll be dictator and dove
And every thing in between
I’m the darkest of dark
The most luminous light
The deepest sea
The grandest desert
The most bloodthirsty vampire
The most magical fairy
I am life’s Sorceress
I am love’s Physicist
I am logic’s Oracle
I am nature’s Engineer
And I am a naked, injured girl
Just waiting for her Prince
Because even superheroes
Sometimes need a little rescueing
Nothing Left To Say
You sat there and I sat here
The air was very blue
You sat there and I sat here
An ocean between us two
Your eyes looked away
Your lips said “I don’t love you”
You leaned back into your shame
You leaned back into your shame
So many roads I have travelled
And a million more to come
So many ways that I loved you
And you had none
But there’s nothing left to say to you
Except that, there’s nothing left to say
The sheets in which we made love
So empty without you
The sheets in which we made love
I wear them now without you
Your hate melted my Golden Path
On that sorrowful day
Nobody will ever know what we had
I’ll never be Your Lady again
So many roads I have travelled
And a million more to come
So many ways that I loved you
And you had none
But there’s nothing left to say to you
Except that, there’s nothing left to say
An empty desert road with a naked, trembling girl
A stormy Arctic sea with a drowning, helpless girl
A rainy, pitch-black pass with a howling, bleeding girl
Lucy in your arms
And the children of the night singing for me
That’s all that’s left, of you and me
So many roads I have travelled
And a million more to come
So many ways that I loved you
And you had none
But there’s nothing left to say to you
Except that, there’s nothing left to say
Lucy in your arms
And the children of the night singing to me
That’s all that’s left, of you and me
The Lady did protest too much
Who would have thought
The Old Man had so little blood in him?
So there we go, that was the inauguration. I hope you check back and give me your opinions. Let’s prove poetry nay-sayers wrong and let it live on a litte longer. Or, as President Whitman once said: “We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish, without a fight! We’re going to survive, we’re going to live on!”. Goodness, that speech makes me cry everytime.
