Poems and Poetry

Daniel Bogogolela

I Say | A Poem by Daniel Bogogolela

I’ve never felt like this before.
You taught me things I never knew.
Made me feel things I never felt.
There are people who are
content with who they are.
Not I.
You are different.
That’s why I love you.
Other girls always wear make up and stuff but you don’t.
You have a dark plum face,
A straight nose.
I’ve never seen you getting
manicures and pedicures.
People like to arrive at their own
And I’ve to say;
they’re ugly,
Not on the inside but on the outside.
You’re immaculate,
Independent and most of all,
I’ve noticed that you’ve athletes biceps
and a grilled torso;
you make me want to grill my pot-belly.
There’s nothing in there;
my friends say about my stomach.
Your secret admirers bombard me
with questions.
How is she?
I’m still learning how she is;
I say.

Cul de Sac | A Poem by Daniel Bogogolela

you’ll know that feeling
of inadequacy
when you spend
most of your time
wondering about what people
about what they’re saying
whenever you aren’t
with them.
And when that happens;
you’ll know that
the void,
that uncomfortable space
of which you then
feel like
it was better if I was
with someone to talk to.
and if ever you get to
be in that dark space,
with no room to move
an arm or a leg,
you start feeling that
there’s no way out
for you.
every thought is a cul
de sac;
if you know
what I mean.

I Can’t Say | A Poem by Daniel Bogogolela

It’s funny how our so-called friends –
behave when we are not around.
They will be lying like they ever met or seen you.
While all what’s before them is;
A downloadable jpg.
They make me more angrier when they start linking me to some
unfortunate events,
Some of them deadly.
Most accusations get levelled at me when I’m;
At work busy with something.
I can’t say I’ll get to the bottom of it – Like most people threaten
I know how to deal with them.

Visit Daniel at http://www.maelwedtshwn.blogspot.com/.

I’ll Never | A Poem by Daniel Bogogolela

I used to think it was the best kept secret
How could my younger brother be so insensitive?
Almost everybody was beginning to forget.
I wish there was no such a thing as that.

My cousin tried to teach me how to ride it,
Just after our late uncle’s funeral,
On a farm during the late eighties.
When I told him the story,
I wanted him to chuckle a bit.

My misery has become his swan song.
The nobodies call me by that name,
At least behind my back for now.
They are scared of me.

I wanted to be like other people,
You know,
I just watch men teach their kids how to ride.
I’ll never buy my son a cycle,
Not even a tricycle.

Visit Daniel at http://www.maelwedtshwn.blogspot.com/.