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A LOVE OF TWO TALES. A fish and a bird may indeed fall in love, But where shall they live? Decapitated and decimated; no, Dismembered and disfigured; yes, Yet, their love was not obliterated. For love’s root was cast so deep and its fruit hang so steep, No treat, as vile as a vicious brute could wreak, Would nip their love in its bud. Tried and tested, Thirsty and tattered, Yet neither shattered nor conquered. For many waters could not quench its soul; nope, Nor manifold flames blaze its hope, But where to shall they elope? At the stars they gave; they wonder, Or into the deep they stowaway; they ponder or maybe head yonder? So, with their thought they can help not but to tinker. Oh, that space, time, race, tribe, culture and nurture, Would come to nought, Never to be brought to a place of thought. For a fish and a bird may indeed spawn true love, But wherewithal shall their worlds embrace them? Writer: SETH YEBOAH Contact: 024 614 4413

IN THE DAYS OF MEN A chase after the wind, Bittersweet, To some we add up to the numbers and to some we are the number. To some we are no more than faint phrases, Mistakenly pieced together with other abominable words, The mind in the wake of its ominous acquaintance is eager to delete. To some we are beautiful chapters, The mind blissfully basks in, artistically pieced together with other savourable words, The mind is dreadfully reluctant to forget. Such is the conundrum called life; A masterpiece aesthetically masterminded by the Master of all masters, A punch above man’s weight. The fruitless toils of humanity, Deeply rooted in its quest for happiness; For futility joyously cleaves to all brazen attempts to banish his anonymity. Whiles reality without failure, Consistently enslaves his dreams to elope with meaningness. Today dominant, tomorrow docile, Virile are the thoughts that plague his mind, Yet, servile are the emotions that beset the heart. Such ...