SENTINEL POETRY
ONLINE MAGAZINE MONTHLY #13  (DECEMBER 2003) ISSN 1479-425X

AMINU MAHMUD

"My heart whispers, Prometheus" (continued from previous page)


III

They burn the roofs
that shuts out the dark
to hurry the advent of hate;

then, a cry is heard,
a woman is crying
for her children are no more.

And within the labyrinth
of despoliation
kings and the kings' men

prefer grave-dug earth
to the ties of kinship.
The land mourns in silence.

Drained is the gentle stream 
that once washed muted sands,
so my heart.

Teardrops have become the hour:
locusts blight the cornfields,
so my heart.

Boughs are plucked from the joint:
nest nestle on sprouted talons,
birds are but a pall over the sky.

Root sink into dirt:
crops drink the teardrops
for harvest to yield no promise.

IV

When mothers shed tears,
fathers drop the last red earth
into toe-dug graves

as undertakers return
to their funeral homes,
to await another round;

I will be here
to wipe the mother's tears
from their children eyes;

I will be there, too,
to comfort my grieving sisters
if you hearken to my whispers, Prometheus.

ƒ

POEMS
Nkechi Nwosu-Igbo
Don't Cry, Dear Butterfly
Spirit Immersed
Aminu Mahmud
My Heart Whispers,
Prometheus
Sunset
Protest Streets
Memoir
Durlabh Singh
Sonnet One
Natural Tones
Tolulope Ogunlesi
A Bridge Passing Under Many Waters
Those Eyes
Helen Woodward
Mirror
Woman 1
Woman 2
Stone
Nilanshu Kumar Agarwal
Memory Is Being Blurred
I Am Being Drowned
Shakespeare In Tears
Adult Franchise
Rural India
Ugochukwu Smooth C.
One Day
Her
Uche Nduka
Shuffle Beige: Extracts
Chris Major
Manners
Emman Usman Shehu
Concordance
Gorgon
Angela Fraser
Invocation
INTERVIEW
Nnorom Azuonye
My E-Conversation with
Emman Usman Shehu
LINKS
Past Issues
Home Page
Guest Book/Feedback
Cover Page