NaPoWriMo: Day 21

Love
And War;
A danger zone

Like
Green hills;
Paths are unknown.

Let
Lakes lope;
I cry alone.

Arlana Panduleni Shikongo

NaPoWriMo: Day 20

A baby can weep for mom's chest,
At 16 she can cry from a broken heart,
but a tear won't be spilled when
Daddy lays his hand across Mom's face.

Make a jailbird of a man selling white powder,
Imprison a boy for selling Uncle's Bob's green,
but cuff not a violent man,
who's lips kiss Jack Daniels and reek.

NaPoWriMo: Day 19

Reluctant, shy breezes are screeching everywhere
    Around the shrubs of full green and damp
    The ants look boiled about the ground
And not many miles on this carriage to pull.
Yet the breeze and sun no longer me spare,
     Nor the ants at my feet,
     Or the golden burners that dim on low
Or the length from here to there:
For I have not enough friendliness
     That in these Haciendas I have lacked
Of nothing more than dark hair'd timid joy
     And the hate for violent Margeret escalated
Or repulsive Mernah's emerald robe
     And sinful Mossle De-throwned

Written by Arlana Panduleni Shikongo
Inspired by Keat's Poetical works: Sonnet IX  

NaPoWriMo: Day 18

She ran through the sty,
Of a shiny pig's litter
In a dress as pale as the sky,
and corsette that didn't fit her.

The rain did not mean much
Nor the puddles it collected,
Or the dirt her skin would touch
Or the mine man it affected. . 

NaPoWriMo: Day 17

  For thine Blackberry

Dear Blackberry,

A very odd berry, you are
But love you less I can't.
Rather a lemon berry, than a cherry berry,
Or a purple lemon,
with a hit of lime,
or salt,
or vodka.

Oh berry black,
with delicate keys,
delightful to caress,
when typing,
"Laurent Desire" street,
Or "house number 3"
or 32meters, left.

Blackberry,
Juicy berry,
Story telling, HalleBerry;
Found myself today, singing out loud
your name, 
You say I'm crazy,
If I'm crazy for you.

Oh Crazy Berry,
Juicy Berry,
Ready Berry
Very merry,,

for
my sweet Blackberry.

NaPoWriMo: Day 16

The sting of wet salt,
Swimming in a sea
Of already concentrated lakes and wells.
Streaming water over the edge,
recreating Victoria's Falls.

The blurred silhouette,
Of my lover, I presume,
Against the morning's rise,
or the sun's set.
or the Golden Gate's.

Cast a shadow in my memory,
Foggy as the distanced lagoon
Like the view of the land,
through teary eyes,
or a fogged monocle.

NaPoWriMo: Day 15

     Deity

Sanctity,
and prayer,
and kneeling,
and hymns to a God
more mighty, almighty.
And forgiving,
Of the heart
Of love
By angels on my shoulder.

A highway,
From apprehension
To atheism,
Lit by conspiracy
and a Pope's disgrace.

Author: Arlana Panduleni Shikongo

NaPoWriMo: Day 14

            Sonnet I

But he loves me not,
Or so he says and claims;
But moments, though few, will not be forgot
Like the laughs, the kiss, and sweet names.

"Why don't you love me, sweet James?"
Why deny a flame so heated?
A portrait perfect for golden frames;
An image of King and Queen on a golden shrine seated. 

No longer will the salty tears be repeated,
In due course you will utter, "I love you".
Love like this, my dear, cannot be meted
And so, in death even, we'll start anew.

A flame of love so fierce,
Like a dagger, you, my heart did pierce.

Written by: Arlana Panduleni Shikongo

NaPoWriMo: Day 13

     Fragrant Stench

The steam swayed off her hair the fragrant stench,
Of bath oils, and stones, and leaves with fragrant stench.

Wind gushing in through open gapped tunnel holes
Stinging her eyes like the bitters of a fragrant stench

Water bubbling in the basins of her poignant eyes
Cry she did like eyes watering of onion's fragrant stench

Large corpse sleeping in silent gloom next to her;
Seeping through pores its ended fragrant stench.

Cover the face of body with cotton cloth
Smother the reek of the dead's fragrant stench.

Before I depart with my black skin to further lands,
Away I carry the wretched cloth with the fragrant stench.

Arlana Alone, will not in the darkness stride
As I carry death of love and it's fragrant stench.

NaPoWriMo: Day 12

     Paisaje
   Age Pays

La tarde equivocada
Let art equal advocate

se vistió de frío.
Say wish to you the free road

Detrás de los cristales,
The trays day loss crystals

turbios, todos los niños,
Turbulent, to-do's, loose Nine - O's

ven convertirse en pájaros
When convert, is there, a pair of j's, or, o's

un árbol amarillo

and marbel; Am I real or no? 

La tarde está tendida
Let art extend "La Vida"

a lo largo del río.
A low, large. Dial Rio

Y un rubor de manzana

Wine, rubber; the monsoon - HEY. 

tiembla en los tejadillos.
Tumble and leave deja deal-with-lows

Original Author: Federico García Lorca
Original Language: Spanish
Done by: Arlana Panduleni Shikongo