Images Painted on our Canvas On this canvas/we see the pains planted in the crevasses of our mind I An underage boy with a gun on his shoulders Wearing his mother’s fear/ learns to grow by painting his childhood with his brother’s blood & like his friends/ he is another puppet of the politicians/ a dream successfully aborted II Because my siblings drowned the sun in mama’s bucket/days passed without the sun & the dawns were identified with a mother’s scream “another child dead” our neighbors say III That’s how we got accustomed to saying “never mind” when someone’s love one dies We pick our lappa/sit on the mat and eat our sorrows Till the ghost is seen in the bottom of the plate IV Our country is the picture of everything evil, the government, homes, schools & dreams abandoned on the clothes lines But life goes on in everyone’s mouth Like the old war jingles planted in our throats
About the Author
Eduard de Bosco writes from somewhere in the world.Born Edward Boateng,he is an honoree of the Gujarat Sahitya Akademi Award in collaboration with Motivational Strips, for his literary excellence. His works have appeared in: Spillwords, Praxis Magazine,Eboquills,We Write Liberia, in anthologies and elsewhere. Eduardo finds his peace in poetry, historiosophy, advocacy, education, music, and in nature.