Poetry

GIVE ME MY FLOWERS WHEN I’M ALIVE

Give me my flowers when I’m alive.Do not wait till I lay still on that floor.The time other beings – good words on my corpse they pour.

Please give me my flowers when I'm alive.My ghost captures your face dripping with tears.My Father in heaven opens his arm to receive me from the mortuary layers.

Give me my flowers when I’m alive.Do not wait to scatter compliments at my vigil.The place other mourners will tell the gathering I was the real deal.

Kindly give me my flowers when I’m alive.I would appreciate your prayers over my body.But I would have wished every encounter between us had been a memorial on this journey.

Give me my flowers when I’m alive.Do not wait to share my success stories inside that pool of dust.The ground other mortals sleep in peace with no cost.

Peacefully give me my flowers when I’m alive.Only in life, I’ll enjoy the beauty of creation.I have one life. You have one life. Let true love be the mission.

Paul Conteh is a Sierra Leonean writer, Lecturer and Development & Public Policy Professional.He currently lives in Freetown.

BENEDICTION

when my reverend baptized me

he prayed for a joy that never ends

who still plays hide and seek in the dark

or is it just me and my gang?

music in the background

bonfire to the right, barbecue to the left

and milk to wash away all our anxieties

we’re at the point where we’re neither hot nor cold, neither young nor old

just lukewarm and brimming with anticipation of tomorrow’s success stories

Lumley beach teeming with lost souls

We shine in the dark to guide them home

Like fireflies and lighthouses and music of the late nineties

Late night vibes are the nicest.

Adeola Carew is Freetown-based writer and poet.