2018-08-21T21:29:52+00:00By |Categories: Poetry|0 Comments

When I look at man

He is handsome with a good head

 Fitted in a deserving body

His arms are strong

Strength at its best expression

His shoulders broad

Broader than Broadway

It speaks of support and comfort

Little wonder it was made for the Woman

He’s on a mustache, a beard or clean face

All to adorn the man of earth

His eyes lure us to his soul

In it we explore his depth

We know his fears, his lacks, his wants, his lust

His lips chapped, luscious or seductive

He bites with them, eat, speak, sucks

And the other things they do, don’t ask me

His neck is thick or lean

It is the single cord that binds his image with the rest of him

The head, his image, his body, the features

Man is sand in motion

His nostrils breaths fire and air like the mythical Sango warrior

His ears attuned to messages whispered by mortals and immortals

Man is both spirit and form

He is hard like a rock, built like a house

Harder than rocks but light like bubbles

He evaporates when the sun rises

Like lilies, he lies weak at the nick of dawn

He is a fortified city without knowledge of the day of its invasion

He leaps, he crawls, he soars but like the king of the sky

He is lowered by a sling of stones

Strange how the earth never lacks for graveyards

Man in his best is sand in motion

Man is sand, sand is man

Man is sand in motion

Walking the earth till the end.

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About the Author:

I am a blend of art, theatrics, creativity and nativity. I can be many things and here I choose to be the writer, the poet, the reviewer and every other badge this path affords me. I am the silent observer and artiste of no mean pedigree. This is my workshop and the pen is my pallet. I hope you enjoy it here.

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