The Falling

The depth of a ditch
that nature designs and fate crafts
is a setting for the peak
into a deep ditch, onto higher peaks

poem by Timothy muggaga
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Master Of Mind

Times a reward
Memories' a rewind
The future a hill ward
And the past a clinging hind
But ever, masters of mind
We are not to whine

poem by Timothy muggaga
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When It Rains

When it rains:
its not the time to cuddle up
its the time to go to the torrent
its not the time to hibernate
but the moment to open up
and let the ground soak

poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Chief's Mind

Buy the whole world
And sell it at a profit
To those who can!
The world is a palace
That shines in all darkness
The world is an empire
That rules where fate is absent
But the chief wants the world
This is the chief’s mind!

poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Judge's Prayer

‘Sentenced to death;
May God have mercy on your soul
Now may you die by hanging...’
The African judge
Holds the gravel of wrath
And sits on the crown of revenge
Where love stiffens into blood thirst
And blood pours into the hands
of an empty soul.
The judge makes a prayer
That covers his own fate!

poem by Timothy muggaga
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Saints In Cells

They are saints in cells
haunted by the 18th century tales
stuck in the middle of hell
like Daniel in the lion's den

Their clothes are torn
like roses in the African horn
Their hearts are worn
like the wanderer's sole

innocence has not left though
and the whole world knows
They are just seeds amongst weeds
positively living like saints in cells

poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Night Of Plight

i remember it was night
and all i lost was my sight
drawn in the middle of the night
stuck onto a flight
that has defined my plight
and i searched for might
like for a sword to a knight...
Reality blew me like a kite
out of the dream into day light
now i have both hands to fight
To watch and guard with my sight
against the winds, storms, and blight

poem by Timothy muggaga
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Winds, Storms, and Blight

i remember it was night
and all i lost was my sight
drawn in the middle of the night
stuck onto a flight
that has defined my plight
and i searched for might
like for a sword to a knight...
Reality blew me like a kite
out of the dream into day light
now i have both hands to fight
To watch and guard with my sight
against the winds, storms, and blight

poem by Timothy muggaga
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Ripe Hour

Don't fault me
that i don't clap my hands
There's a fire in my heart
that blazes like the midday rays
There's a zeal in my bosom
that pours out like clean springs
But i keep it at that

Don't fault me
that i make no haste
I see the walls breaking down
but i will not simply run
I see the devil's reigning
but i will not bow
until the hour, so ripe, strikes

poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Nile Springs

There are naked souls
being clothed in purity
There are limbs, young in age
being watered with nutrients of growth
There's flesh, dark in color
swallowing the rays of the mighty sun

Down the Nile springs
African steam rises to heights
from the depth of the red earth
to fill the clear sky of opportunity.
Blessings are whirling
like the winds of our history

poem by Timothy muggaga
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