30.2 C
City of Banjul
Friday, March 29, 2024
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I have left my heart in a mental ward

My soul in the trenches of war

Walking this earth absent from it

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Not of it

Gone and done with it

It’s true when they attribute me with

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Madness

Hardness

Absence

Loneliness

 

On the run from belonging anyway

I have lost the love of losing

And found myself a naysayer

At the courtyard of the beyond

This rift that I cling to now

Is but a means of betrayal

From an illusion fed to me

Now here I stand a loner

A turntable of the teacher

 

I walk these dirt filled pavements

Seeing the traces of those lost ones

Who came here before me

Those non-beings who existed

Sleepy living beings of the dead

I saw their imprints on these stones

Their hearts beating the rhythm

Of shackles and sinking hopes

These was to them an art tribute

For that one attribute within them:

Their concern with no concern

 

These urban Buddhas

Inheritors of the presence

Of the moment and the now

Karmic beings of light incarnate

Living beyond the veils of atonement

Seeking and searching for the yards

Of the misfits and strangers

Who lost the love of the losing

Sinking in the craft of the breath

Reading

Cringing

Breezing

Breeding beads of sacred lust

Lights blown out from their call

Sitting in the deserts of modernity

Morbid and wretched bodies

Yet souls filled with light

 

Reciting

Praying

Meditating

Freeing

Dying

Saying:

 

“O Lord of love and Lord of our Beloved..

You have seen our tears

Witnessed our fears and taught

Us what we knew not by the pen

 

Awaken us again and again

Our vows have withered

And our spirits fail to ascend

Forgive us and bloom our love

To the perfection of heaven

And the highness of thy being”

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