After the spirit of Kano,
one hundred twenty miles or so.
The dry wind blows, red dust grows,
red turning gold.
A force gusting long
creating, changing, strong,
a new day horizon, this "Harmaton".
Destiny blown to places unknown,
as I roam to find a place called "home".
Perhaps another land, places unplanned,
this ever changing land, I don't understand.
Feb 10, 2018
Harmaton
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
I love your voice.
and I think you would love Australia.
I DDGd Harmaton and Wiki gave me "The Harmattan is a season in the West African subcontinent, which occurs between the end of November and the middle of March. It is characterized by the dry[1] and dusty northeasterly trade wind, of the same name, which blows from the Sahara Desert over West Africa into the Gulf of Guinea." Is that what you were referring to?
Harmaton
I dug this piece up as it was written a good five years ago. I believe Weirdelf you are absolutely right and I thank you for that. It should be spelled that way. The inspiration to write that piece I believe came from being in middle of painting a series of the "Fulani Tribe" who are known in two contexts. One being the most beautiful people of Africa or the scourge of Africa. I was born in Jos, Nigeria and they were a nomadic people whom my missionary father ministered to. Thanks again for that correction.
trekker
Harmaton
I dug this piece up as it was written a good five years ago. I believe Weirdelf you are absolutely right and I thank you for that. It should be spelled that way. The inspiration to write that piece I believe came from being in middle of painting a series of the "Fulani Tribe" who are known in two contexts. One being the most beautiful people of Africa or the scourge of Africa. I was born in Jos, Nigeria and they were a nomadic people whom my missionary father ministered to. Thanks again for that correction.
trekker
Harmaton
I dug this piece up as it was written a good five years ago. I believe Weirdelf you are absolutely right and I thank you for that. It should be spelled that way. The inspiration to write that piece I believe came from being in middle of painting a series of the "Fulani Tribe" who are known in two contexts. One being the most beautiful people of Africa or the scourge of Africa. I was born in Jos, Nigeria and they were a nomadic people whom my missionary father ministered to. Thanks again for that correction.
trekker
Harmaton
I dug this piece up as it was written a good five years ago. I believe Weirdelf you are absolutely right and I thank you for that. It should be spelled that way. The inspiration to write that piece I believe came from being in middle of painting a series of the "Fulani Tribe" who are known in two contexts. One being the most beautiful people of Africa or the scourge of Africa. I was born in Jos, Nigeria and they were a nomadic people whom my missionary father ministered to. Thanks again for that correction.
trekker