The Cost:
Two poems from South Sudanese poet Riak Marial Riak
The Earth with Praying Birds
The earth with praying birds is void and leaking,
some birds fly into shadows of trees
with fog filling their thin feathers,
some grappling inside streets trying to reach
lamplight before windswept away
leaves producing lights.
A man found dead with pictures frozen
into tatooes in his palms,
sculptured and made severe reflection
of the same blood of innocence
and other syndications such as —
1. a body unwilling to die into freedom
2. a bird felling its feathers to war and decadent
3. a boy sat between lampshades remembering
how to forget loving himself
4. a moth deserting woods to flesh of soldiers
killed by selfless power
5. a body chained by forces of freedom
with one that was war.
But the birds in their prayers mourned
how a stone killed their little ones.
The birds knew it was through obstacles
the earth disappeared in the limelight
and many prayed
God should stop it falling apart.
The Cost:
from the same forces invented in me
i let lustre break inside my eyes,
i walked miles away
and found myself overtaken
by self-afflictions,
such was the nature of love devoured by internal wars.
once upon a time some black men
felt from the sky with water
and it unfold into today’s softness
as seen in my footprints.
the universe swept by negative ions
of compassion
fades until it was caught with wind turning some new leaves.
i found self worth in gaining freedom through death
but as a force the cost of dying into justice
is life
and i felt it was why some part in me fought variety of wills.
my feet stepped upon a forgotten tomb
with fire finding way into me,
i turned once again
and saw same black men rewriting
the way they came from,
forgetting how they arrived.
Sacredness of Lost and Love
my body settle into one long night
begetting life and lost
and think of a soul waking broken hearts
like cassava showing its bulkiness on the ground.
I love the word death,
not because it has e and a and t in the middle
but for not boring me in living.
I mourn the death of many people
and laugh too
because laughter is the opposite of wiping tears.
My grandmother once said people cry
to remind death we are still fearing it’s darkness.
My body settle into sacredness of lost and love
because times defined me as fire burning down
one big mountain to one small stone.
Riak Marial Riak is a South Sudanese poet and writer. He writes from his hometown Yirol. His works are based on love, life and freedom. His works had featured on Kalahari Review, Africanwriter and BNAP anthology. You can follow him on Twitter @riak_marial.
