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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Tuesday, 8 December 2015

Sekiriba kyataka mpawo atalikyambala

Have you ever wished you had Jesus powers,
to pull someone out of the grave and resurrect them?

A friend lost a father and I wanted to visit the grave,
pull him out and try to resurrect him...

For nothing has been the same since I got her text,
every norm came to a stop after that final back drop.

I'm now mellow inside, feeling selfish and powerless.
I want to save her, I want to give her back her daddy but he's gone...

If I saved him, would he re-configure his life to live better?
Despite that, I'd spin reverse the world and re-write his actions.

If not, I'll be gangster about the situation and turn into Al Capone,
throw a cape on and save her in the dark alley she's walking.

I want to make everything better but even a prayer seems inept.
I've prayed and prayed, I don't even know what for anymore

I wish I could put my hand deep into my throat,
pull myself inside out and excavate my soul,

Then catapult it to the skies to find the pearly gates,
slam at them in hopes to break the chain of fate.

Peter, the keeper will tel me God's coming, I'd have succeeded.
When he does, I'll seat by his side, cry and ask him why!?

I'll apologise for reaping myself out before my time;
ayeh, I'll tell him it was urgent, and he'll say he expected me.

Then I'll ask him if fate knew that I'd make my way,
He'll tell me to shush my smart mouth and cut to the chase.

I'll ask, "what I can do to make things back at home better?"
He'll tell me, "Sekiriba kyataka mpawo atalikyambala."

I'll be in shock that he speaks Luganda then I'll ruminate.
as I hover over the cloud waiting on my bus ride to earth..

I'll be angry 'cause He gives answers like my father,
but when I get back to earth, I'll hopefully have figured it out...

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