An empty kitchen by Witness Hamudi

No cockroaches on the floor

Or rats sneaking through the door

Only the buzz of an empty fridge

Stocked with bottled water about to freeze.

No aroma from previously fried chips

Only a drink too stench to sip.

The switch off cooker,

Listens to the sounds from some room, of a droning hover.

Taps run dry, belching stone dry air

And fires put up warming signs, “Don’t dare go in there!”

Some, sun fried on the window sill and mummified

A bread- bin shielding a crumb of cake long dried

That once broke the tooth of one roach.

And I had to bribe them all with goch goch.

It’s only this empty kitchen left

To be swept

Before the odds and ends are taken out home

Whilst rats, cockroaches and flies are already waiting to storm it.

Tomorrow by Witness Hamudi

Tomorrow awaits with splendor

In Her hands I will but rock,

With the oboe and the spinet, there is much grandeur

To be known and crowds to shake.

With each passing day there is

Something to write about: the breeze or the next door Miss,

Whatever may be consumable to their delight.

If well put, the feeling and the rhymes,

Together with the bell’s chimes.

Tomorrow may be another day

Which would lively sound bestow and gay

That is if I stick to the oboe and spinet

Or the stages like Peter Tenet.