By guest poet Benjamin Munyao
Hope missed the bus today, so I walked beside my problems. My pockets carried three coins, but my stomach carried an orchestra. I asked Hunger for breakfast, he said, “Try believing in lunch.” An old woman sold six tomatoes, and smiled like she owned tomorrow. “Why are you laughing?” I asked. She said, “Tears have never paid rent.” A child pushed a broken bicycle, shouting, “I am late for my future!” I laughed until I cried, then cried because he was right. The world had given him little, but he had given the world his courage. At sunset, Hope finally arrived, dusty, breathless, and apologetic. “Where were you?” I asked. “Helping someone else survive,” she said. I looked at my empty hands, and suddenly they did not look empty. For I still had laughter, and laughter is rebellion against despair. Tomorrow had not promised riches, only another chance to begin. So I smiled at the darkness, and darkness blinked first. That night, Hope did not miss the bus— she became the road beneath my feet. |
For prose by Ben:
- read his articles at https://growing-the-future.org/
- visit his blog https://benmunyacom.wordpress.com/
- buy his book One step through the fire (highly recommended, review coming!)
Photo by Mitchel Onwuchuruba on Pexels.com
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This is brilliant Ben! Such dry humour in the face of adversity
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magnificent ! a keeper !
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John, Ben writes amazing prose too. You might like his collection of short stories if you have a kindle.
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There are so many amazing lines in this poem!
I think my favourite part is this:
My pockets carried three coins,
but my stomach carried an orchestra.
I asked Hunger for breakfast,
he said, “Try believing in lunch.”
LikeLiked by 1 person