Sometimes at night
After prayers
When I am supposed to
sleep
I think about Rwanda
One of the mighty one
Not lacking artistic
spices
The mountainously
green country
With the endless
banana trees
And the thousands of
hills
Those hills in their meaningful
eloquence
Hold many secrets,
secrets so dark
And yet many will
never be told
In politics with its
lies
In religion with its
lies
Psychological lies
That become belief
Rwanda
Who could ever
imagine
That such gorgeous
hills
Were once the hosts
of the Devil
The Devil who
mastered
The use of machetes
made in China
In sinful ways
Leading the country
To drown in innocent
blood
Rwanda
Who knows what dwells
Behind those hills?
The faces I’ve met
The faces with untold
tales
The faces of orphans
The faces of widows
The faces that taught
me
To smile whenever you
can
Because the best
thing
You can give your
enemy
Is forgiveness
A Fatal Cut
In the gloomy
afternoon
When the birds sang
sorrowful songs
Our eyes have cried
and cried
Valleys of tears to
the agonizing pain
Our hearts are left
to bleed
Eternally by their
ignorance
They cut us against
our own will
In the secrecy of our
mothers
They take away our
only feminine pride
And say it’s a
tradition
Oh what a shame that
is
Fatal to our
existence
Poverty
He is notoriously
famous
His name is on every
article
From the New York
Times
Everybody knows him
Everybody hates him
Everybody talks about
him
Everybody blames him
They always say that
Wherever he goes
He only causes
disasters
He is often threatened
To be defeated by
The men who sit
On the top of the
world
Sacred piece of earth
Surrounded by a
greenery luster
Melting at the heart
of the blue ocean
Tropical palm trees
Mysteriously green
As they are all
delighted by
The swift smell of
the
Blue ocean that sings
With its caressing
waves
Going back and forth
Over the door of no
return
In the slaves’ house
where
Twilight has fallen
upon
So long, as time goes
on
There still shows
The hand mark chains
So long, as time goes
on
There still echoes
The ancestral voices
That cried for
justice
Modern Starry Night
Dear Van Gogh
There are many times
I looked into the sky
But each time
I struggle to see it
as blue
Even though the stars
Are always glowing
With their infinite
lights
Mother
I dipped my feather in my tears of gratitude
To write this poem for you
In this poem I put all
I have not been able to tell you
Even though I never showed you, I’ve always loved you
In my secret garden all the roses have wilt
Time goes on, everything vanishes
But not the love I have for you
If I look back to the past,
all I can see
Are the great things you did
for me
I remember when I was much
younger
Whenever I used to have
nightmares
You always chased them away
With the tenderness of your
kisses that gave me reassurance
Whenever I fall down and hurt
myself
You always heeled my wounds
With the warm touch of your
hands that gave me protection
Whenever I cried you always
dried my tears
With your sweet honey voice
that gave me comfort
You always wake up at five in
the morning
For long hours of work
So that our fridge would never go empty
So that we would never go hungry
So that we could have shoes on our feet
So that we could always have candles
To blow on a birthday cake
You never left, you never ran away
I thank you for all you have done for me
And I just want you to know that
You will always live within me
On a rainy night
When the blissful
tears from heaven
No longer danced on
my bedroom walls
Senegal came calling
It is not the first
time
Likely not the last
time
She has visited me in
my dreams
Senegal
Every time I go back
to this country of mine
I love it more in a
way that words can’t define
Senegal
Country of rich
culture, of rich tradition
From the moment I
gave my very first cry
The moment I opened
my eyes
To the golden
streams of sunlight
I have known that I found
my place
Senegal
People of different tribes
Different
dialects
Different
religions
All living together
For the better
Senegal
The wonderful
people on the street,
The colorful food
by the sidewalk
The hardworking
women in their dresses
Carrying small
children on their back
And life giving
water in tiny buckets
Senegal
The children
always playing
The smiles in
their faces
As they listen
and dance
To the drum
beatings filled with life
Senegal
The solidarity you
get when you face
The darkest
nightmares of life
The companionship
you get
When you
celebrate
Senegal
I always have the impression
Of loosing her
particular figure
In my mind, her
colors fade with time
Ever since I waved
goodbye
I am from the first
fruit of love
I am from the sound
of Hal-Poular
I am from the divers
ethnics
I am from
A place where honey
melts like butter in the sun
A place where no one
is afraid of lions
A place where trees
dance of joy in nature
I am from
The pure waters
The mountains of gold
That are hard to find
Because of the greedy
politician
I am from
The cultural
diffusion of food
Maffe and tigadege
Chicken and fries
Cookies and milk
Peanut butter and
jelly
I am from
The melodic chants
and
The fast moving feet
Of the African drums
I am from
The long Atlantic
Ocean
In the country of
hospitality and terranga
Until one day I found
myself in America
Where time is money
Where freedom is
famous
Where immigrants work
hard
In the hope of a
better life
I am from
The beautiful sunrise
and
The nostalgic
memories of my life
I am from
Nowhere but the peace
of my heart
And the best of me
Lost
Even with the lights
of life
The bright sun that
radiates for a new day
The slim moon that
smile at us at night
The shiny stars that
guide us at night
Lost
Even with the
harmonious rhythms of life
The happy songs of
the sea waves
The melodic blows of trees
Lost
At the edge of dead
silences
In a world as a
sentiment
Where the love of
time
Ephemerally fades
away
Lost
In the haunted images
Form childhood
memories
That always
regenerate in my dreams
With echoing voices
pulling me back
Bringing me back
To the reality of
life and lies
Sweet Angel
I walked on tiptoe
Just not to wake her up
In the crib, I looked
And saw a sweet angel
The fragile face
Tiny fingers and the low heartbeats
She pursed her rosy lips in nuisance
In term of baby, I knew nothing at all
My parents warned me
Whether it be a boy or girl
Always be benevolent
To the newcomer in the family
Bending over the crib
I was a bit silly
I found no words
Suddenly, her eyes opened in such innocence
Uncertain between dark and light
She looked up and I couldn’t hold my tongue
So I said, hello I’m your big sister!
It
was love at first sight
As
soon as our eyes crossed by the moonlight
We
looked at each other with such familiarity
As
if we’ve always been living in each other’s fantasy
It
was love at first sight
The
union of our hearts was so bright
Like
we were meant for each other by destiny
It
was love at first sight
As
soon as our eyes crossed by the moonlight
A Snowy Season
The loneliness on the
11th street
The windy echoes of a
snowy season
A naked tree that
roused morose
At the heart of the
moon
Tired tears washing
down
On her wrinkled
cheeks
Full of childhood
memories
She nostalgically
watches
In a blink of an eye
The window of her
past
Life
Life has been wicked
and worthless
I wake up every day
To the breaking
morning skies
Knowing alone that my
hands
Can’t dry my tears
No one cares
No one listens
No one is there
To lend
A helping heart
A Divine Voice
When I woke up this
morning
I heard a divine
voice whisper in my ear
It told me
When you look in the
mirror
Try to find your
inner reflection
When you look at the
ceiling
Remember to dream big
But don’t forget to
start small
When you look at the
carpet
Remember to kneel
down and pray
When you open the
door to leave your house
Remember to chase
your dreams
Women
I do not paint women for nothing. I
think that woman is an essential element of life because she bears life and she
gives life. Often people do not really acknowledge the spiritual value of women
as life givers. To have the power to carry life and give life is something huge
that rests in the hands of women. A
woman should not necessarily be defined as someone with a beautiful face, beautiful
breasts, or a vagina. In my paintings, I try to show the subtle side of women,
which is very important. I paint them in blue, in flames, in red, purple,
yellow, green, black and white. I do not solely paint African women, but women
in general, as the ability to give life is a spiritual vehicle that belongs to
all women of all colors. Their faces embody both sensuality and melancholy. I install
in them in a universe of stars. Their body may be on Earth, but their minds are
elsewhere, as women live in another world. I could say that women are much
closer to God than man. She plays an important role on earth, but she lives in
another universe. I think that things could have change, if women were given the
significance they deserved, especially in Africa, where women are always looked
down upon.
