A hand swing of disguised depravity

I held tight to a hand that had been kissed by the world and-
Whose coarse grip fronted bliss that disguised depravity.
Where dust and perspiration mingled together and formed lines
That picked at strings rhythmically and released inward emotion
In expressed canto.
I held tight to a hand whose grip spoke words and let known dreams;
Swinging to and fro,
Controlling my feelings and etching a desire on my simple heart.
A hand that had known tears and shivered with fears and felt blood….
I held on to this hand to secure a place of wish.

I held astute watch into those strained and weary morose eyes
For any allusion of vanity in the person whose hand held mine,
Refusing to accept false benevolence.
I held a hand in affectionate appeal to a heart that was once wounded
Swinging to and fro
In attempt to unwind the angst on a crippled soul.
A hand that had known peace and blissful days full of relish able moments
I held tight to this hand to secure a place of contentment.

I held a hand that taut befalling a seraph of mercy
To a chafed and murky soul that shone tacit misery on a day.
A life lived as a lie so that certainty is forgotten amid all its mirth…
I held on to a hand interminably that loved me….liberally;
Swinging to and fro
Securing our perpetual bond.
A hand that gave though it had naught…
I held on to this hand to comprehend the being.

This poem above by Sanyu Kisaka, won first prize in the 3rd BN annual Poetry award.She won 500 USD and autographed copies of poetry by prolific poets including  Unjumping by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva

FRAGRANCE

It’s the fragrance, mother;

the intoxicating crispy fragrance

of colored newly 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 possesses me

to bare my nakedness to them,

to vend my soul’s worth,

to trade my country’s worth!

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.

Regina Asinde, 2^nd winner BNPA 2010 under the theme Money and Culture. She won 150 USD and autographed copies of poetry by prolific poets including Unjumping by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva