In our hurt, we cause hurt,

In our pain, we cause pain,

In our anger, we cause anger,

In our sadness, we cause sadness

In our confusion, we cause confusion

In our conflict, we cause conflict

In our happiness, we cause happiness

In our jubilation, we cause jubilation

In our resolution, we cause resolution

In our peace, we cause peace

In our reflection, we cause reflection

Which one comes first, what’s happening on the inside reflecting what is going on in our world, or do the happenings on the outside influence the condition of the inside? No matter which comes first, they are all reflections of each other. What is inside you today?

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MAH MEKOLLE

(photo of Nigel Mekolle at 3 years old)

FLIGHT OF THE ANGEL

PART I – WROUGHT IRON WALLS

 

Locked away safely and undisturbed, bound by sheer will

shackled with wrought iron chains, she dragged the box

that held her heart to the water’s edge. There, within that box

lay the treacherous heart of that Lady Love,

heart that bore the imprint of the most treacherous of hearts

How right it was, how good it felt, she was marked for life

 

As she watched the box sink, the tears began to rain

First the dry heave, then a solitary drop, two, three

and then it rained tears. She had saved a piece from her

broken heart, unwilling to part with all its pieces.

So with all her might, she clutched at that one piece

and wept like a babe in crisis, with no one to comfort her

 

Day turned to dark, dusk turned to dawn

Her heart gone, she thought she was free, but the

pain kept on. Slowly but surely Lady Love fell into darkness;

the deepest dungeon there ever was. Oh she laughed and smiled

as the furnace of pain burned her away. Now nothing but ashes,

she turned to the darkness, and the forces that ravaged her

 

Darkness welcomed Lady Love and plundered

Ravaged her body, broke her spirit, tore her to pieces

They laced her brew, broke her lace, and left her maimed

No one cared, no one noticed, darkness ate her

She roused in pain, dead again, a deeper anguish

She rests her case, the pain he caused, now trumped by darkness

 

No one noticed, no one cared, no one bothered

No call for justice, no knights at arms, just pitying glances.

There was a crime, a crime of passion, a crime on passion

She lost her heart, lost her soul and he went free

Another badge, ‘twas just a tryst, another conquest

She’d saved herself but now was just a penny with a hole in it

 

MAH MEKOLLE

4/28/14

 

 

 

PART II – ANGEL WITH CLIPPED WINGS

 

Months went by, years went by and Lady Love roamed

She built her walls, she built her castle, she was her Queen

She grew in beauty, many a suitor came for her hand

She waved them hi, said her goodbyes and gave them smiles

She hoped they’d stop, for can’t they see there’s no one home

Her eyes were light, her light was out, she was in darkness

 

One day a Knight, bold Sir Redeemer broke the fences

He loved her true, he knew her pain, he loved her silly

His love was right, his touch was true, his heart a treasure

Lady love knew, this was no fluke, this love was good

Her broken piece though all alone, made whole again

On one condition never to dwell on thoughts unspoken

 

She loved him true, knew his pain, she loved him silly

Her love was right, her touch was true, her heart his treasure

He made his promise, never to hurt, always protect

He loved his angel with the one clipped wing like crazy

Within his love she flew again, she laughed like crazy!

But then he tripped, he lost his hold, and lost his angel!

MAH MEKOLLE

4/28/14

 

 

PART III – PHOENIX RISING

Now both wings clipped, the fallen angel moaned in anguish

There’s no redeemer, no believer, no protector

She’ll lie alone, nurse her sorrows, and mourn till morrow

The flames consume, she turns to ash,  this is her last

 

But Lady Love, strong as a warrior was meant to fight

She fought for her life, fought to survive, this was her life

The flames consumed, she fought to breathe, she choked in pain

She turned to ash, rose like a phoenix, burst into light

 

Her light shines bright, she won the war, now she’s a knight

She shines her light on those who mourn, she feels their pain

Her joy is real, she seeks to heal, and she laughs at will

Her wings are new, stronger than ever, she’ll fly forever!

 

MAH MEKOLLE

4/28/14

(pics by loversofsadness.net, shutterstock.com, zengardner.com)

SILENCE ME TENDER, RENDER ME VOICELESS

Silence came with the night and by morning stole my heart
The stage was set, for I had heard the whispers of silence
They said silence was a menace, a force so gentle
Only the brave could face the power within
Silence was not for me, I rather fancied my life of noise
What care I for silence, when noise has me in thrall
Oh I will guard my heart and my thoughts, may silence be still

But the hook had sunk, the bait too tantalizing not to bite
Silence courted me delicately, a whisper here, a touch there
Intimidated I was and afraid to discover my insides
So tied up in knots I was for my night of reckoning was nigh
My senses stripped, bereft of any feeling, I gave in to silence
The journey of discovery, far from noise, the distractions of life
My day with silence had come, but was I ready for the intimacy

Silence caressed my ears as I closed my eyes to the soft voice
A gentle brush, whispers of sweet nothings in my ear, a tease
I smile shyly, then full bloom at the warm breath silence blows
A heady feeling, it travels my senses, the warmth it creates
I can’t bear it, I lean in, I have no choice, and I must succumb
Surrender was inevitable in the arms of silence, sweet melody
The climax begins, the melody leads me, the crescendo, release!

Silence, sweet silence, now tasted, never going back to noise
The awakening came fast, flashbulbs erupting in my head
I saw me, me outside, the me inside, I was so real
The ugly, the beautiful, the bad, the good
Silence showed me, silence loved me to the truth
I can never go back to the noise, silence now in me
I am silenced tender, I am rendered voiceless

MAH MEKOLLE
MARCH 30TH 2014

photo (1)

“DOUBT” THY FIEND, OR “DOUBT” THY FRIEND

“Doubt” Fiend, A Friend?


And so it seems, alas that man is frail
Though strong but yet not immune to fail
But failure, though tis that the diagnosis
Or the transformation to a positive prognosis

Doubt, thy sting is cunning
A loose cannon with power unbecoming
The rock once solid, now weathered and convoluted
That was once a solid mind, rock solid and undiluted

But doubt thy fiend, no doubt, but doubt thy friend?
That urges to pause and take stock and course a new trend?
Though doubt a beast that perforates and consumes its prey
Yet doubt you must, when the soul quickens at the sight of the grey

Mah Mekolle
Inspired by a Tpoem “Doubt” thy Fiend
3’16/2014Bottom of Form

 

THE RAPE, TORMENT AND SAVAGERY AGAINST THE AFRICAN WOMAN

She wakes up a minority, among all beings even though she is the majority in the game of gender numbers. Her arms are sore from working like a mule, her legs ache from miles walked to cater to the needs of her family.  She is looked to from all directions for answers to questions that deal with catering to others, “Mamma where is the food, Mamma where are my shoes” and my favorite,  the overbearing voice of some men “WOMAN come here, service me!”… She wakes up not thinking of herself, she wakes up a servant in her bed, home, community and continent, somewhere in Africa there is a woman whose reality fits this profile, her name is Adama, Amina, Sirri, Zinzi…

Somewhere in Africa the woman sings her sweet sorrowful song. She has been violated again in the worst possible way, there were two of them this time. It is believed that having sex with a virgin will cure HIV, so they took turns at her with no remorse, they slapped her into submission and the other one covered her mouth, blocking her nose in the process. Although she kicked with her legs, her silent protest went unheard. She felt her insides rip and the life’s blood trickled down her aching feet. They transferred what they had unto her, and took her innocence away. They left her for dead as she prayed with her last breath for an angel to ease her pain. As her tears flow down her face, her sweet song fades away, she might not make it.

Down by the river a young girl plays with her friends, she is twelve years old, giggling in all her childish glory, hopscotch here we go, it’s time to play and laugh like a kid. But somewhere in the bushes hides the hunter, the pervert, the macho majority as he lusts for her young skin. He smiles for he knows, it is his legal right to claim her for a wife. The laws are in his favor, he watched her from the time she was born, he was already fifty years old! From fatherly pats on the head to lustful grin in his eyes, he will arrange the marriage and violate this young soul. Oh I weep for her, I cannot save her, I run and run but like in a dream the road disappears. She will be married by dawn, another African woman violated and the law said nothing!

Oh she cries and cries, and can cry no more. Her husband slapped and hit and boxed her like gym equipment. She had served his food at the wrong temperature again! She forgot his favorite calabash, the one he washes his hands in before he eats the food she toiled all morning to cook. That mishap, now her face displaced, dislocated jaw bone but not the only bone displaced. The neighbors hear her screams but they move on, her fellow woman just got her own beating a few hours earlier, she can’t help, the other one knows it’s just a matter of time. The law courts say the man can do whatever he wants with his property, she is his property. African woman valued less than a child, even livestock is catered for better than her. 

Abroad there’s an African woman, whose soul is dead but her body still functions. She wears clean clothes, has a great job, her make-up is fabulous. She brings home the bacon, makes the bacon and feeds her family. She rises before dawn, cleans like a maniac, shows up to work where she is manager, but back home he is a savage. Friday pay-day she collects her check, straight into his account it goes. She asks for pocket-money in her meek voice, as she calls him Baba, my Husband. He hands her breadcrumbs as he wakes up from his lazy slumber on his way to see his mistress. If she is lucky he will return home to watch the kids while she goes off to work again. One day she got tired, she told her colleague her pain, her colleague fellow African woman, surely she will understand? No. Her friend told her African husband, who told his friend and when she came back home that night, she was dead meat. I read in the paper a woman had been found burnt in Texas, husband on the run. In related news, another story of a woman from West Africa chopped up by her husband for disobedience!

 

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Oh African woman, gender majority, social minority. It doesn’t matter what social strata you belong, you have to fight for your rights as an equal human being, born of the same womb, same labor pains your mother endured. Your shoulders are broad, the burdens you carry. You have to be emotionally strong like Goliath, lower pay at work, fight stereotypes, fight for your voice, and still be a sister, mother, wife, daughter, and lover. Somehow you are expected to be the servant and yet act like you are grateful for the role. When does the fight end, where do we start, or how do we finish. They poke your privacy in public searching for your virginity, and when they find it they crush it. How about some respect for starters? Love her like you love yourself, fight for her like you would for yourself! African brother, time to rise up for your sister, your wife, your woman, your mother, your child!

MAH MEKOLLE

(photos by digital-art-gallery.com, lurkerfaq.com, madamenoir.com, gistmania.com and MAH MEKOLLE PICS)

LIFE AS IT IS

 

Life as it is can be a beautiful thing,

It is a beautiful thing.

When I think of all the daunting tasks

that we do in order to stay alive with masks

I realize that all we really need does already exist

It exists within our hearts waiting in time to exit

 

Pain, suffering and hurt are so natural

they remind us that we are feeling beings, so natural.

When we let our vulnerabilities see the light of day

We usher in a wave of realism, and blessings no words can say

The taste of the good life lies not in hiding our good heart

but in the overcoming of expected but unknown obstacles with heart

 

Do not cry through the night as well as through the day

The day breaks to give us a chance to make new hay

Make room for forgiveness, empathy, growth and love

Your conditions may change but the essence of you is love

Dry your eyes sweet child, you are more protected than you see

Smile for life sweet child, stop and smell the roses you see

 

MAH MEKOLLE

MOTHER MOTHER BEYOND

MOTHER MOTHER BEYOND

 

Mother mother on my mind

I think of you today no less than I’ve done everyday

My love for you is unending, your spirit I feel at every turn

You called me your angel when you cradled me in your womb

Now you’re my angel lighting my path every second

 

Mother mother on my mind

When I close my eyes I hear you laugh

The sweetest melody that graced my ears

I smile for you are laughing once again now in Heaven

The angels join you this time, the sound a sweet melody

 

Mother mother on my mind

In my deepest thoughts I hear your whisper

You still comfort me when I weep, sad or depressed

I’m nestled in your bosom as when I was a babe

My tears though I weep for you, my solace I still get in you

 

Mother mother on my mind

The day you left, I wanted to go with you

My life hasn’t been the same without you

Now I’m a parent and I know how much you loved me too

I still smell your perfume, sweet as a rose, it heals my soul

 

Mother mother beyond

Though you are gone, and I’m missing you

I know you see me, for I see you in everything I do

I weep no more,  for a child always has a mother

Like Jesus His Mary, you’re my Mary and we are never parted

 

Mother mother in Heaven

I want you to know I make you proud

I work hard and I live right just like you taught me

I am a great mother, father, friend and neighbor

When anyone asks how I turned out so special

I smile as I whisper your name, for it all came from you

 

MAH MEKOLLE

(This poem is dedicated to Osric, Shiyghan, Yaya, Yeem and especially Woyen Navti

on the 9th year since Mother Mary went beyond)

 

WHO IS YOUR SISTER

My sister is a female sibling in the strictest sense

A sister goes deeper than just parents in common

Life gifts us with sisters at different stages in our lives

They are true assets, rare to find, blessings to keep

They have one, two or three things we cherish in life

If you find one in your life time, do not let her go

She’ll be your mother, father, friend and manager all in one

 

My sister is my Champion

My sister encourages me in ways that bless me

She may not know all my secrets, doesn’t matter, she’s got my back

She champions my causes, and doesn’t put me down

If she doesn’t understand it, she accepts me and is patient

She prays for my successes and laments my failures

My sister is my hero, with her I feel like a star

 

My sister is my Protector

My sister defends me and fights for me. She is kind

When I call her name, she’s there for me without question

She covers me from enemy fire if she can

When I’m hurt, she provides a haven of protection while I heal

She protects me and my household when she can

My sister is my soldier, with her I feel safe

 

My sister is my Friend

She listens to all my secrets, aspirations, dreams and fears

She doesn’t judge me, or question the things I keep for myself

She gives me good counsel, laughs at my jokes, shares my pain

She knows my children’s names, loves them like her own

She’s not afraid to love me and let the world know it

My sister is my treasure, with her I find peace

 

My sister is my Teacher

She knows me, sees my soul, hears my heart

She teaches me the ways of the world when I falter

She gives me a shoulder to cry on with immeasurable empathy

She tells me truth without sting, shares her wisdom without fail

My sister has no envy or jealousy for me

She tells the world she is proud of me

 

My sister is God’s Reflection,

My sister shows me love and loves those I love

My sister prays with me, and when I’m weak she intercedes for me

My sister rebukes my bad behavior and shows me the right way

My sister won’t let me starve, she’ll share her bread, her cloak a place to stay

We may not talk everyday, or every month, she’s still my soul sister

My sister’s keeper, she is me, with her, all is well

MAH MEKOLLE

 

 

 

 

KNIGHT AT WAR

I see thee Knight alone, armor on, a soldier at war

Your stance is confident, your face brave against the sun

You have your orders, the mission is clear

Fight, with all your might fight them all off

 

Find a spot, take cover for there’s no time to waste

Safe in hiding, you observe everything and everyone

Sharp gaze on the world that threatened everything

Left you bereft, left you wanting, longing, hoping

 

He waits still, there’s no sound but his heart beating

He starts to sweat, no enemy fire yet, no one sees him

He smiles, his plan working for here he’ll make his bed

And yet he must stay alert so he checks his armor

 

Metal breastplate to protect his heart

Iron helmet against stray bullets and brainwashing

Sword in hand, strength in legs, he’s poised to fight

Knight at war, alone and caged, but what war do you fight?

 

How far can you run if it’s from yourself

How deep can you hide, if you’re in there too

Knight at War, the war was always within

You’ve got your armor, can it protect you from you?

MAH MEKOLLE

 

 

 

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