Lonely Thoughts: Poems About Life

By Simon Peter Esaku

Simon Peter Esaku has introduced a reader friendly style in poetry in Lonely Thoughts: Poems about Life. His poems are easy to read, interesting, entertaining, educational and relevant. He treats the reader to various ingredients of poetry and with varied themes, makes him or her identify with situations.
The author draws his inspiration from personal experiences, observation and imagination. He is a blend of talent and school and university skills in poetry. Exposure from his work travels and journalism skills have added to the smoothness of his poems.
Esaku is a journalist, photographer and author with World Vision in Kampala since 1997. His work writing news stories, features and books for the international NGO has taken him to most parts of Uganda and to the Dem. Rep. of Congo, Kenya, South Africa and Thailand.
His stories and photos in magazines and websites abroad have raised millions of dollars for World Vision working in over 100 countries and employing 41,000 staff. Esaku is considered one of the best writers and photographers in the organisation.
Previously, the author worked for the Ministry of Information as a features writer. He won the prize for the best AIDS features writer in Uganda in 1992. The Commonwealth Trust awarded him a four-month study tour in the UK in 1993.
Simon Peter Esaku was born in Kateta sub-county in today's Serere district in Eastern Uganda in 1957. He's the second born of eleven children of Mislam Atolong and Margaret Acobo.
He attended Sebei College Tegeres for his O Level (1971-1974) and Boroboro Secondary School for A Level (1975-1976) where he studied History, Economics and Literature including poetry.
In his first year in Makerere University in 1977, Esaku studied History, Political Science and Literature with poetry. He graduated in B.A Political Science and Public Administration in 1980. He trained in journalism in Uganda and in West Germany at the International Institute for Journalism. Now he is studying M.A in Mass Communication at Makerere University.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456798550

Simon Peter Esaku

The readers will like “Lonely Thoughts: Poems about Life” because the poems are easy to read, interesting, entertaining, educational and relevant. I wrote these poems with the reader in mind. Many readers think poems are difficult to read and understand. Therefore I made these poems simple and easy to understand without diluting poetry. I open the book with the poem, “Fear not Poems” and later include “The Poet” and “The Bandwagon” to make the reader like poetry. He will find the style of the poems interesting and entertaining- the usage of words, the ideas and the various ingredients of poetry- repetition, rhyme, rhythm, alliteration, imagery, transposition etcetera. He will like the mix of long and short poems, and the different lengths and formats of stanzas. He will identify with the varied themes- life, death, love, marriage, separation, revenge, grief, poverty, politics, spiritual, nature's beauty, stories, imaginations and visions. He will learn about poetry, the human mind, and about life elsewhere. I spend a lot of time reading and thinking about poems. I see poems everywhere- in hymns, Proverbs and Psalms, at home, in the office, in the village, in the sky, in the food …. I write poems with passion and inspiration which started when I was 18 years old. At the time I was doing my Advanced Level (Senior 5 and 6) in Boroboro Secondary School (1975-1976). I studied Literature which included poetry. In my first year at Makerere University in Kampala in 1977, I continued with Literature in English and started writing poems and have been reading and writing poems since. Even as a journalist since 1981, my travels within Uganda, the U.K, Germany, Thailand, South Africa, Kenya and in the Democratic Republic of Congo have also provided exposure and inspiration for poems. I have drawn from both the literary skills and the journalism skills of writing news stories, features and books to write these poems.

Book preview

1. Fear not Poems

By Simon Peter Esaku

Fear not poems, I say, dear friend,

’Cause of those complicated words

And twisted lines that in the end

Discourage you reading the poet’s works.

Let a word not intimidate you, dear,

As one word the poet oft can say

Purposely to mean another thing near

And a line condense into a word today.

For you to understand his rich poem

The poet does not stubbornly refuse

But just that at times he, the poet,

Fixes words in positions that confuse.

The poet can place the first word last

And the last first while keeping the sense,

He can interchange lines and phrases fast

Interrupting the flow and making you tense.

So you should not then fear poems anymore

But alone, quietly, read them under a cool tree

Or while lying on your bed and what’s more,

Speed your mind with hot coffee, you’ll see.

Read poems so your bosom can feel

Those old melancholy moments and bliss

That the poet’s mind alone can see,

Indescribable feelings you shouldn’t miss.

Enjoy sweet sounds each in a place

Carefully chosen, repetition, rhyme;

Sounds flowing on in an endless grace;

Read poems—you’ll remember I was right.

2. The Party in Galilee

By Simon Peter Esaku

I was in that Galilee seaside dinner

Now in my antique memory a glimmer

Hosted by a certain bearded Nazarine

After performing a unique divine rite.

You should have been there dear friend

To see the Jew gaze at heaven’s vain end,

Give thanks and break the bread and fish

Till pieces multiplied to fill every dish.

I was one of the five thousand men

Seated twixt the children and women

Who became too satisfied to finish

The five loaves of bread and fish.

I was there when the Jew fled to solitude

Because the awestricken, amazed multitude

Wanted to seize him and crown him a king

And jubilant crowds to him began to sing.

3. The Precious Prize of Time

By Simon Peter Esaku

For too many years she had

Seen the sun peep and hide,

The dry season come and go

And the trees grow and dry

Till her eyes turned sightless.

Now she has fulfilled the dream

Of every baby on its first birthday-

To grow up and become

A baby again, such a rare

Blessing from time.

Amongst many she’s conspicuous-

The beautiful white garden

On her dry-skinned rocky head

Without a blemish of black; and

Toothlessness of second babyhood.

Time has cheated her strength

And instead given her a third leg

Before she can soon crawl again;

Time has curved deep furrows

On her face and on her cheeks.

Now her head is shaking,

And every joint trembling;

The small voice is whispering,

The large appetite missing

And the reasoning diminished.

Yet in her mind is tranquility

And in her bosom satisfaction

For she has done her part

And won the prize of time

And now, she’s waiting to sleep.

4. I Stood on the Rock

By Simon Peter Esaku

I stood on the rock, alone,

Looking East across the grey valley

At the unreachable orange horizon

Beyond sight, beyond the Indian Ocean.

Below, the village was still sleeping

Quietly under the chill air blanket,

The faintly visible huts were mere

Dotted black squatting mushrooms.

Black too, and shapeless, were

The trees on hillsides and valley;

A slight cold wind swayed

Gently the branches and leaves.

Across the valley, to the end,

The eye couldn’t tell individual

Objects—shelters, vegetation, fields…

But just a mass, a grey expanse.

I stood on the rock, in Busoga,

And felt a strange gladness

Of solitude, of feeling that

I was alone living in the world.

I tasted the joy of living in

A different world—the quiet,

Dormant, innocent, beautiful world;

Tho’ brief, beautiful like newly created.

I loved the orange sky above

The horizon, the orange clouds

Strewn like the sun’s bed-sheets

Abandoned after the night’s sleep.

But gradually, the world’s orange end

Was turning golden and slowly objects

Were gaining their due colours and shapes

And death was turning into life.

The skylark started to sing,

The cock to crow, the cow to mow

And a mouth coughed in a hut.

Slowly, the golden end turned silver.

Daylight had intruded to spoil

Nature’s beauty and my delight,

Life had returned to kill the quiet;

So I was saddened and climbed down.

5. The Ideal Man

By Simon Peter Esaku

The ideal man is the envied man,

The semi-mechanical man

Who’s both flesh and machine,

Walking from the hospital

To the mechanical workshop,

Never easily giving up living

When there are spare parts.

The ideal man is the man

Who can pluck off his ears

And stash them in his pocket,

A person who can swallow

Pain killers to stop headache

And buy in a shop