Monday, July 26, 2010



It’s the fragrance, mother;
The intoxicating crispy fragrance
Of coloured mint coinage.
Sometimes the shimmering glitter
Of gold or silver.
It matters not mother
What figures are imprinted on,
Just the fragrance!

The fragrance that drives me
To plunder my core,
To pillage my country to nothing,
Squandering it to desolation.

The fragrance that devours me
And sparks hunger pangs,
Coercing me to crave and covet theirs
Staining my hands with blood

It’s the fragrance mother;
The musky musty odor
Of old and used notes,
Sometimes the dull hue of coinage
That quenches my thirst and ardor!

It matters not mother
What figures are imprinted on
Just the fragrance mother
Just the fragrance.

This poem was written by Regina Asinde who emerged second in the BN Poetry Award 2010. She won 150 USD, an autographed book of How to Save Money for Investment by Ken Monyoncho and an autographed poetry book, The African Saga, by Dr. Susan Kiguli.

No comments:

Post a Comment