undeniable brotherhood.
some you never forget,
others you wish you could.
they fight the fires
that threaten a mother,
a child, a father,
even their brothers;
when things are slow,
they’ll fight each other.
the end of every fire
brings a retreat,
smokey assemblies
in the middle of the street.
they gather to eat
in a single room–
and so do they sleep
from dawn till doom.
by K. Osei
yesterday America
committed suicide
but she didn’t die.
she rose, with fist closed
and blood in her eye.
the sound of wind
whisked her ear,
evoking times of biased fear.
eighteen hundred eighty-five,
severed chains she arrived
to commemorate grand defeat
of dixieland’s southern heat.
cuprum’s shade
transformed with time
to patina’s fade
without a shine.
an idea tried by oxidation
rust-resistant collaboration,
fire still held high in hand
with promise of united land.
by K.Osei
…
…
pure innocence wrapped in meek
spongy flesh, chubby cheeks
imagine such celestial scent
remembering not troubles went
vellus hair and cradle cap
sixty-four diapers and a nap
warm milk from a breast
weary eyes, my arms, we rest
heeding your cooing call
helpless,
under your spell we fall
nothing real save you
even your smile, above mine true
between the labor of life and death
nothing so delightful as baby’s breath
By K. Osei
the road ends where the shadowy shanty sits alone,
amid solitude, silence and seeded fields overgrown.
bypassed this road times before,
alluring whispers beneath implore
who lives there?
what form resides within such place
daunting darkness heavily laced
a door ajar, beckoned from afar
stoking curiosity.
primordial uneasy realm
enchanting creatures intimately found.
lodged the night watching their plight
till aurora came around.
nocturnal storm to dawning mist
evening scars turn to bliss.
balmy breeze weave through vellus hair
scent of petrichor ease despair
morning milk flowed as silk,
warm and sweet – soothing his sigh,
before flailing arms reached a cry.
swaddle removed, cradled to skin
returned two to harmony again.
early spring removed the sting
as fair trade pollinated the air
a trillion flying forms; floating things,
flooded the atmosphere without care
and fairy flies feasted plankton in the aer.
by K. Osei
Consciousness precedes and out lives all conceptions of itself.
by K. Osei