Dreams To Write

We are
Writers with a licence to create
We stand at the Margins
Prying like investigators
Probing like hackers
Hording experiences
to make stories
And poetry
of what we see

Here the stage is set
And we perform
We tickle your bellies with our word play
Your tingling toes
To our lyrical lines

We paint new realities
And you escape with us
To Magical worlds
Of pink skies
With a cherry as the moon
Sugar crystals as stars
Sparkling wine as rain
We give up ourselves
To create art
We share our darkest creations
And you find comfort in our confessions

After you are fed
We are discarded
Like a Banana peeling

Our creations are merchandise
Stolen from shelves
By events managers
And individuals
And organisations
Our publications
Litter Nasser road
By photocopiers
Without regard for copyright

We shrivel
We starve
The lords and ladies
Of the land evict us
To homelessness
We sink into pits
Of depression,
Of relentless lethargy,
Of drugs
And cuts,
We hurt,
We cry.
We roast our lungs
and hope the heat
will transcend us to a higher place
We water board our brains
With rums and whiskeys
We risk it all

Scorched by poverty
We welcome convention,
Dismiss freedom and
Noosed in neckties
Unstable in stilettos,
We retire behind desks .
Salaries rain upon us
Titles crown us with worth and respect
“Director of the Inspectorate
“Secretary of the council
“Manager of the Corporation

Like beads on a broken string
We fall off the literary scene
Each bead,
A broken dream to write.
We set fire to hope
The ashes clog growth
New entrants evade the craft
Then we claim Uganda a literary desert.

Writers are creators,
Gods and Goddesses
Don’t retire.
They trudge on
Without salaries
without guarantees
Of success.

We are writers,
We reign in literary deserts
Like an oasis
For aspirants
To hydrate
As they chase the dream to write.
If we don’t chase the dream
We won’t catch it

Link to the Italian translation

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *