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Rafhael Vieira Mar 2015
Protect your pack;
Show no fear;
Respect the elder;
Teach the young;
Lead your companions;
Survive each day;
Hunt your enemies;
Howl to a new tomorrow;
Explore the unknown;
Adapt to the environment;
Demonstrate no weakness;
Nerver back down;
And leave you mark
Poemasabi Apr 2013
Spring peepers peep in newly warmed wetlands, bullfrogs nerver peep.
Water Lily Nov 2015
Let us insert one crying rose into the sizzling muzzle of your gun

Tonight,   please extinguish your flame of hatred and put down your gun
Let us insert one crying rose into the sizzling muzzle
Soon, the fragmented pieces will be reunited by the love of the flower

We, stand up from our crying, are the people still be living in this world
Morning, we visit our dear ones’ grave yard
Together, we will enjoy a moment of bird singing and a sweet potpourri
Before leaving, retrieve a smiling rose from the tree next to their sleeping bed
Pin it high on our chest

From now on, WE WILL
Cherish our life as every sunrise is the last day
Each day decorate restaurant of Le Petit Cambodge with tons of fresh red roses
Under the swaying crystal chandelier celebrate the night in smiles
On Boulevard Voltaire, watch the leaves of London Plane rustling in the wind
Dance and swirl with the happy melodies wafting from the Bataclan Concert Hall
Listen carefully, the singing of “La Marseillaise”can be heard far away from “Stade De France”
Let us, all the world, join it and sing it high with our heart

Tonight,   please extinguish your flame of hatred and put down your gun
Whether or not you use your gun to take away our life
You will NERVER take away the LOVE for the world from us
No Matter we are alive or deceased, the world will love us forever
In love, we are with this world,  no regret and no fear
FOREVER

Tonight,   please extinguish your flame of hatred and put down your gun
Are you willing, give us your hand, let us all embrace this world
You will walk into LOVE
At this human world

It could be a world without countries, nationalities and religions
Only have red flower, green grass, blue sky, fizzing breeze
And
Endless Endless LOVE
Ever and Forever



To Dear Paris  from California USA
11/17/2015
I visited Paris not long ago, it is a beautiful city! I just want to write this for the beautiful city at this moment.
Water Lily Nov 2015
Tonight,   please extinguish your flame of hatred and put down your gun
Let us insert one crying rose into the sizzling muzzle
Soon, the fragmented pieces will be reunited by the love of the flower

We, stand up from our crying, are the people still be living in this world
Morning, we visit our dear ones’ grave yard
Together, we will enjoy a moment of bird singing and a sweet potpourri
Before leaving, retrieve a smiling rose from the tree next to their sleeping bed
Pin it high on our chest

From now on, WE WILL
Cherish our life as every sunrise is the last day
Each day decorate restaurant of Le Petit Cambodge with tons of fresh red roses
Under the swaying crystal chandelier celebrate the night in smiles
On Boulevard Voltaire, watch the leaves of London Plane rustling in the wind
Dance and swirl with the happy melodies wafting from the Bataclan Concert Hall
Listen carefully, the singing of “La Marseillaise”can be heard far away from “Stade De France”
Let us, all the world, join it and sing it high with our heart

Tonight,   please extinguish your flame of hatred and put down your gun
Whether or not you use your gun to take away our life
You will NERVER take away the LOVE for the world from us
No Matter we are alive or deceased, the world will love us forever
In love, we are with this world,  no regret and no fear
FOREVER

Tonight,   please extinguish your flame of hatred and put down your gun
Are you willing, give us your hand, let us all embrace this world
You will walk into LOVE
At this human world

It could be a world without countries, nationalities and religions
Only have red flower, green grass, blue sky, fizzing breeze
And
Endless Endless LOVE
Ever and Forever



To Dear Paris  from California USA
11/17/2015
Tidsfordriv er lig med mit selskab
For dig
Er det jeg kan tilbyde
Et tidsfordriv
En dulmen til de nerver, behov
Du har
Alligevel mig
Hvornår end du lyster
For min egen lyst fordriver dig
Hvis ikke jeg er tidsfordriv
MOTHERLAND By Dookwon Iswamaf.

A long time I awaited,  
Home sweet the saying goes,  
At noon the sun blazes, no joy in its rays,  
The land dry, with savanna stretching far,  
The mountains I applauded, proud and majestic,  
And as for cattle, plenty in fields, grazing free,  
And as for horses and camels, inimaginable,                             Relived I felt at first sight, a homecoming delight,  
But once again, my eagerness betrayed me—  
My first meal tasted overhyped, a memory tinted by  
The beautiful city chanting in my mind,  
"Bamako, Bamako," I heard of it, echoes of promise.

The city large and bright, bustling and alive,  
And at night, a paradise woven in whispers.  
Wow! My excitement unfurled,  
Then, the morning of my first sunrise arrived,  
But the shocking therapy I encountered—  
As rats and cockroaches danced unabashedly  
In broad daylight, their daring a daily show,  
And as for mosquitoes and flies, an incessant annoyance,  
A shake of the head proved insufficient,  
The town thrumming, as people scuttled like ants,  
Mentalities low and impoverished,  
Uncivilization ruling their souls like a heavy shroud.

Yet, amidst the chaotic ballet,  
The fancy cars and a million bikes caught my eye,  
And the highways, vast and inviting to whistle along,  
Though the streets and traffic lights amazed me,  
I found myself yearning for more;  
"Bamako, Bamako," I mused, lost in thought.

The strangers, worshipped like kings without crowns,  
Meals cheap yet plentiful, filling bellies but not hearts.  
Then, the rising palaces, difficult to admire,  
The police and traffic guards, gentle yet firm,  
The markets alive, women’s voices an echoing symphony,  
As their laughter and shouts brewed in the sky.  
The views, pleasant and magnificent,  
The administrative blocks, bridges, and buildings unmatched—  
"Bamako, Bamako," I told myself, clinging to hope.

Yet shame washed over me,  
As beggars, starving, barefoot in the streets,  
And the ghettos, acutely miserable,  
As children wandered, lost, not schooled,  
"Hello!" a voice appeared, rising above the chaos.  
The weather cut dry, the heat biting,  
Dust and dirt swirling, relentless in its chase,  
Then swells and scabs, showing no mercy,  
But oh, how the mangoes and melons glistened,  
Unperishable delights in the midst of despair,  
"Bamako, Bamako," I pondered, caught in the weave.

Yet, the tradition burned stronger here—  
Well-cultured and valued are women,  
Respected are elders, poignant reminders  
Of a heritage rooted deep, rich as the soil,  
And whispers of welcome fluttered like wings,  
In this tapestry of life, love, and loss,  
Bamako, Bamako, my heart echoed,  
A motherland that held both beauty and scars,  
Promise and heartache entwined in its history,  
A place where even the dust carries stories,  
And the sun, flickering in hope, rises again.

        Content Matter

The poem is all about a long home coming which the poet entitled “Motherland” after experiencing and describing life in Mali for 7 months.

Dookwon was away for 13 good years,and at his return excited to see the dreamed nation that he left since he was a kid. Upon his arrival, he meet a lots of things and after a 7 months experience he dedicated this poem as a testimony to the nation in expressing his gratitude and desire of having a chance to see the reality of the nation that he heard stories of.
Apparently, the speaker noticed a lot of his hometown both positive and negative appearances such as
“Mountains” looking statued and majestic like two mens standing and greeting each other. Then the land resembling a desert with a dry weather a melting sun. While the horses and camels never seen in my life the cattles too much, the people
so kind hearted that strangers are taken care of like gods, the capital city a beautiful palace to admire,the people’s mentalities low that they grieve against a language instead of their masters, the people so peaceful that aggression or stealing is a curse. The people plenty, the beggars starving and the children wondered to hate school, Educational standards worthless. Fearsome to see March for the scratching and swelling, mud and dust overtakes the land. But the mangoes and melons always survive, Tradition stands steel(the act of eating hot food with bear hand)womens dress more like Africans than westerners, and old people nerver retires out of help and respect. Mali Bamako the nation that I met full of love and care.

Themes of the poem:

1.   Idealization versus Reality  
     – The speaker arrives expecting a “homecoming delight” and visions of pastoral beauty and a glowing city. Instead, they find rats, cockroaches, poverty, and social disorder.  
     – This tension between fantasy and the grit of lived experience underscores much of the poem’s emotional power.

2.   Nostalgia and Belonging  
     – Repeated invocations of “Bamako, Bamako” reveal a deep longing for place and cultural roots.  
     – Even amid disappointment, the refrain signals that the speaker cannot let go of their bond with the motherland.

3.   Disillusionment and Shock  
     – Initial awe at the landscape, livestock, grand mountains, and promise of the city gives way to a sense of betrayal.  
     – The contrast between expectation (“paradise woven in whispers”) and the harsh “shocking therapy” of squalor drives home the speaker’s emotional upheaval.

4.   Nature and Landscape  
     – The savanna, blazing sun, proud mountains, grazing cattle, camels, and horses set up an almost mythical stage for the homecoming.  
     – Nature both welcomes and disappoints—its beauty cannot mask the social ills that follow.

5.   Urbanization and Modernity  
     – Fancy cars, highways, traffic lights, modern bridges, administrative blocks, and rising palaces speak to development and ambition.  
     – Yet these symbols of progress sit uneasily beside beggars, scuttling crowds, and rudimentary living conditions( like children lacking school).

6.   Poverty and Social Inequality  
     – Rats, cockroaches, flies, and mosquitoes become metaphors for the neglect of public health and infrastructure.  
     – Beggars barefoot in the streets and low “mentalities” highlight stark disparities between wealth and destitution.

7.   Cultural Vitality and Community  
     – Despite hardships, markets pulse with women’s laughter and shouting, meals are “cheap yet plentiful,” and strangers are “worshipped like kings.”  
     – This underlines resilience, hospitality, and a communal spirit that persists in adversity.

8.   Ambivalence and Hope  
     – Throughout the poem the speaker oscillates between disgust, shame, wonder, and reluctant admiration.  
     – The refrain “Bamako, Bamako” evolves from a naïve chant of promise to a fragile talisman of hope and identity.

9.   Identity and Self-Discovery  
     – The journey home forces the speaker to reconcile personal memories and national myths with contemporary realities.  
     – The poem becomes a mirror, reflecting how homeland shapes, betrays, and ultimately defines us.

10.  Juxtaposition of Tradition and Progress  
     – Livestock and savanna evoke traditional rural life, while highways, police, traffic guards, and skyscrapers point toward modernity.  

  SETTINGS AND STRUCTURE

Settings of the poem
The poem was written 7 months after the poet arrival in his hometown after 13 good years leaving in Sierra Leone.

The poet finally mentioned this poem “Motherland” the 5th July 2025, 11:30 pm in the rainy seasons.

STRUCTURE AND LITERARY DEVICES OF THE POEM


Stanza 1 (lines 1–8)  
• 8 lines, lush natural imagery (savanna, mountains, cattle, camels)  
• Repeated “And as for…” builds an almost biblical catalogue of bounty  
• Tone: celebratory, eager  

Stanza 2 (lines 9–12)  
• 4 lines, shift to disappointment (“my eagerness betrayed me—”)  
• First appearance of refrain, buried in the speaker’s thought:  
   “ ‘Bamako, Bamako,’ I heard of it, echoes of promise.”  
• Tone: reflective, half-in-nostalgia  

Stanza 3 (lines 13–19)  
• 7 lines, the city’s night → daylight: from wonder to horror (rats, roaches, mosquitoes)  
• Harsh, visceral diction (“danced unabashedly,” “incessant annoyance”)  

Stanza 4 (lines 20–24)  
• 5 lines, urban bustle likened to an anthill, acute poverty, ghetto misery  
• Simile (“like ants”), harsh alliteration stresses social breakdown  
• Tone: critical, almost despairing  

Stanza 5 (lines 25–30)  
• 6 lines, sudden note of marvel—highways, cars, traffic lights—renewed yearning  
• Reprise of refrain, this time internal: “ ‘Bamako, Bamako,’ I mused, lost in thought.”  
• Tone: conflicted hope  

Stanza 6 (lines 31–39)  
• 9 lines, fuller portrait of city life—strangers exalted, cheap filling meals, rising palaces, gentle authority, vibrant markets  
• Refrain surfaces again: “ ‘Bamako, Bamako,’ I told myself, clinging to hope.”  
• Tone: tentative reconciliation  

Stanza 7 (lines 40–49)  
• ~10 lines, sudden shame at the sight of barefoot beggars, lost children, dust and heat  
• Vivid contrasts: “swells and scabs” vs. “mangoes and melons glistened”  
• Refrain woven into the midst of despair:  
   “ ‘Bamako, Bamako,’ I pondered, caught in the weave.”  
• Tone: sorrowful compassion cushioned by small delights  

Stanza 8 (lines 50–60)  
• ~11 lines, turn toward cultural pride—women honored, elders revered, traditions alive  
• Metaphor of life as a tapestry; whispers of welcome  
• Refrain emerges again as a heartfelt echo: “Bamako, Bamako, my heart echoed,”  
• Closes without the refrain but with a final image of hope: “And the sun, flickering in hope, rises again.”  
• Tone: warm, reconciled, tenderly proud  

• Free verse throughout—no fixed meter or rhyme scheme  
• Refrain (“Bamako, Bamako”) appears at stanzas 2, 5, 6, 7 and in mid-stanza 8—serves as emotional and structural anchor  
• Three-phase arc:  
  1. Idealized arrival → culture shock  
  2. Urban chaos tempered by modern marvels  
  3. Compassion, cultural roots, final reconciliation  
• Rich imagery and contrasts (natural vs. urban, squalor vs. bounty)  
• Anaphora (“And as for…,” “As rats…,” “Yet…”) and simile deepen emotional impact  
• Tone shifts—from celebratory → critical → hopeful—carry the reader on a full emotional journey

— The End —