Let the Bird Free
Book One
a collection of inspirational poetry
By Raissa Batieno
Copyright © Raissa Batieno 2013
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical method, without the written permission of the publisher. No part of this publication may be circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
Cover designed by Aubrey Watt
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To
All Poetry Lovers
Throughout The World
Content
From the Author
Part 1: Life
Break free
New York
Tattoo
Alcohol
I am Africa
Safari
Part 2: Love
Aqua
Coffee
Cinnamon
Roses
Kiss
Intimacy
Part 3: Spirituality
Inspiration
Focus
Trust
Pepper
Faith
Eagle
Preview: Diamond Rain
About the Author
Let’s connect
From the Author
Enjoy the poems. Your feedback is welcome.
Part 1: Life
Break Free
In this hard shell
I can’t even breathe, it is hell!
I am suffocating, I need some air
I want to break free but do I dare
Yes, some light
In this night
I have to get out
What are you talking about?
They think I just want to show off
In my mind I turn them off
But they hang on tight to me
Let go of me!
I have to scream, I need a beer
My voice they will hear
Loud in their veins until they plea
I can’t keep on denying myself for thee
Enough! I have already played puppet
And I am ready to fly; you bet
Spread my wings wide in the blue sky
And away from your distractions; I will fly
Single minded, soaring with determination
I will ignore all but my heart in ebullition
I will fly to the highest mountain
And scream out of my pain
Cry all the tears I need to cry
Stand up tall to watch my past pass by like a butterfly
And I will let it go away
Close my eyes; welcome the future for which I pray
I know I am worthy…
I know I am worthy…
Pardon me if your words don’t make sense to me anymore
Pardon me; without your permission I had to open the door
I can’t be you; the child has grown up
Ready to learn from my mistakes and move up
If you can’t take my goodbyes
I can only wish your tear dries
I was meant for something else; not your plan
I was meant to be free; just like any other human
You lie, you cheat in secret
But at sunrise you become the only saint on earth; I bet
Who are you to think you can invent me!?
Who are you to think you can forever manipulate me!?
You hide in the dark, so I shall never know you
Yet you want to see me in your mirror. How can you?
Hanging on to my shirt; let go of me!
Alright; no choice you give me
I have to take this shirt off my skin
Walk bare chest for a while and lift up my chin
I will find myself another shirt
And another skirt
Ones that suit me just fine
Ones that are just mine
You try to tie me down with your power
But I am just a flower
Kill me or water me; your choice
But I also have a voice
I will drink from the rivers
Where dwell only divine dreamers
You can’t put me in a cage for too long
I will not get along
I am meant for the sky
I am meant to fly
Your life is your life
My life is my life
Broken chains on the floor
Open is the door
I am here to be me
I am ready to go free
No matter what
What!?
Let go!
Let go!
New York
New York; sturdy world
Even at night you shine like pearl
When will you sleep dear?
You give me chills, I tear
On the roll, 24/7 that’s your breed
Roll faster than speed
Kind heart in your concrete deed
Tattoo
Tears I can’t even cry on my own
After I thickened my skin over the years
Tried but they will not flow
Thought I would tattoo my fears
On my cheek so out they will blow
Over and over I will tattoo my tears until I can tear
Alcohol
Agony; you are dying
Life; you are missing
Can’t you see? You are wasting
On the verge you are falling
Holly God! I keep praying
Or should I stop hoping?
Look up! My heart is waiting
I am Africa
I have…
A dark skin that shines like melting chocolate in the sun
Full lips that make the whole world smile when I smile
The elegance of a queen
The spirit of a warrior
The heart of an angel
I am…
The daughter who brings back fresh water from the river
The mother who grinds the millet everyday under the baobab tree
The grandmother who prays silently every night for you
The grandfather who passes on his wisdom before I close my eyes
The young man full of courage and ambition who works hard from sun rise to sun set
Beauty
Strength
Courage
Ambition
Wisdom
And I am proud
Africa!
Safari
Sure! I will go with you to the savannah
Africa is the beauty I want you to see Bubah
Forests you have never seen
Africa where you have never been
Roars of lions that tickle your heart
Inviting landscapes; that’s the best part
Africa has a unique energy that stays in your heart
You breathe life
You smile from the heart
You dream of heavens
Yet you are forever grounded; rooted
Forever united with mother Earth
In the valleys
The earthy smell in the air
Awakens your sleeping joy
Arms wide open
Embrace this precious moment
In the mountains
Sit quietly, close your eyes
And let the morning dew
Greet you with its freshness
Embrace this precious life
In the deserts
Contemplate the sunsets golden veils
Reflecting glories on the warm sand
Picture this unforgettable view
Embrace the beauty
In the thick forest
Smile at the most precious birds songs to you
Feel the nature
Feel its nurture
Embrace this gift from God
Africa
Mother land
Native land
Much love
Part 2: Love
Aqua
A whole ocean in your eyes
Bleu like the naked skies
Infinitely; immense emotions
Can’t seem to end the attractions
Blue like my favorite blue
Bleu like I would love to view
Aqua in your eyes
The blue that never flies
Coffee
Colors in the air
Orange and gold flakes pair
Float like little boats; float
Flakes on the lake float
Evening attractions that last
Emerging passions that blast
Cinnamon
Cupper eyes awaken my desire
In your look start the fire
Never have I known you smelled good
Never have I known your wood
Ah! Let me see your brown skin
My God! It’s so thin
On my heart keep your eyes
No! Oh! Touch it before it flies
Roses
River of laughters
Ordinary lovers
Sincerely intertwined like petals
Exquisite life
Sing me a dozen of reds
Kiss
Kind and sweet; rouge
In your red dress
Sense my soul
Smile when our lips touch
Intimacy
Invite me in
Note on my heart you stuck
Time after time you came close
In; I am ready to step
Melt in your sea
After I feel your heart beat
Carry me away
You were meant to be the one
Part 3: Spirituality
Inspiration
In my space alone
Needless to say this is my throne
Surge of pictures in my mind
Pure lights that blind
Infusing my being with ideas
Reveling the doors to nirvanas
All consumed by this bliss
Taken away by the eternal’s kiss
I shiver at every divine sign
On my blank slate I draw this map of mine
Neatly as I want it to be, just fine
Focus
Force myself into stillness
Oh! Stillness that shapes my visions
Clear visions that bring greatness
Unknown discoveries in revelations
Surge like my Eureka in the openness
Trust
Treasure of my heart
Rest your head on my shoulder
Under the stars we chat
Sincerely this is our moment
True eyes, I see in your deepest blue
Pepper
Put a little bit on the soul
Even I know it’s not enough
Put a little bit on the smile
Put a little bit in the heart
Even I know it feels better now
Rhythm your song with pepper
Faith
Future filled with abundance
After I make my present presence
Infallible will be this occurrence
Trusting, believing that of joy I will dance
Honorably elevated; at glories I glance
Eagle
Eagle! Piercing cry in the sky
Awaken all my senses. Alert!
Gloriously my eyes shine at your cry
Lo and behold, wisdom you engrain in my being
Eagle! I hear your cry, I take the wisdom
Preview: Diamond Rain
The rain was pouring on this day of September, reviving the dry land of Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. The soft smell of the wet ground on dirt paths was a delight for children who were full of joy and energy, all excited to go out barefoot to play in a most-welcomed rain. From the mud houses lined up in the streets; their happy voices could be heard. These children’s laughter and giggles were a blessing that even a woman in labor pain could not help but smile to. Inside one of these tiny mud houses was my soon to be mother who was about to give birth. She was alone in the house with her three little daughters while my father was out looking for work to help feed the family. She needed him; she waited until she could no longer bear her pain, she knew she was soon due to give birth. She started to walk to the nearest maternity hospital which was more than three miles away. Step after step on the muddy road she walked stopping from time to time to catch her breath or wait till a contraction passes. In her heart, she prayed God to be with her in this moment and see her through this time. God heard her cry. The fresh rain was gently washing away her worries…One step at a time she went praying god to help her reach her destination before she gave birth.
As she recalls, she tells me that she gave birth immediately upon arriving at the maternity hospital. She gave birth with almost no pain to a very beautiful baby girl “hairy like a monkey” she said with a smile on her face. A baby girl so pure and clean straight from God’s hands she said with a shining light in her eyes. Looking in her baby’s eyes, she couldn’t help but love life again.
Yes; life was beautiful growing up. Innocent and naïve was I, but so happy was I. I never imagined what struggles my parents had to go through to feed me and my sisters, but I learned to know and understand their lives with time. My parents were educated people, and their dream was for all their children to learn to read, write and go as far as they could in life. A dream I highly respect and appreciate every day. Unfortunately, in the early 80’ there were very few schools in my Ouagadougou; they were overcrowded and too expensive for us. My father did not work at the time, and my mother was the only provider for many years. She made less than fifty dollars a month; we had food, but we could not afford education. My parents were determined to give us the best. My father who was still a college student at the time decided to teach us reading and writing skills himself. He taught us at home for many years, and I am more than grateful to have had him as my first and favorite teacher, so are many people in my neighborhood, now grown and successful adults.
I lived in a neighborhood where hundreds of children like us could not go to school because their parents could not afford to send them. My father opened his arms to some of the children who wanted to be part of our family study group, and they received the same education as we did. Very soon, our bedrooms became classrooms and every day there were throngs of children learning at our home. Quickly overwhelmed, my father asked each parent to start contributing for books, pens and pencils. He also had to ask some other jobless young men in the neighborhood who had reading and writing skills to come and teach with him. Despite parents’ contributions, my mother had to give a portion of her salary every month to pay the teachers. Every year dozens of children joined us to learn to read and write. Quickly, our study group became a little school. Today, this little school is an enterprise attended by thousands of students every year. My Father rightly named the school “Bangre”, which means Knowledge.
I completed my primary, secondary and high school education at my parents’ school; “Bangre”. When it was time to go to college, I struggled with choosing a major. I wanted to be a cosmetologist, and then a lawyer, then an artist, especially a painter. In the local university, there were and still are no such options available with the exception of law. I told my friends about my choices, and one of them suggested I go to nursing school. I was not sure I wanted to go into the medical field, but I took the entrance test and succeeded. A month later I started nursing classes even though I was still not sure about this choice.
br /> During my early months in nursing school, my father became ill. Nobody knew what was going on. The first doctor he saw diagnosed malaria and gave him a complete treatment for it. It was of no good. The second doctor he saw diagnosed him with hepatitis and gave him a new treatment. Later he traveled to Ivory Coast to see another doctor; the third one diagnosed him with a liver tumor of unknown cause. Then he went to France to see the fourth doctor. This one conducted a liver biopsy and declared a “typical African disease” with no name. To this day I still don’t know what a “typical African disease” is. My father underwent surgery to have the growing tumor removed from his liver. A week later he came back home from surgery with, again, another treatment.
Back to his family, my father struggled to find a doctor for his follow-ups. At that time, the healthcare personnel all around the country were on strike demanding the government better working conditions and better salaries. We could not find a doctor and a skilled nurse to care for him. Finally with persistence, we found an intern and a nurse to take care of him at home. Seeing my father; this man who used to be so strong and vibrant, creative and intelligent spiral downward hill weakening every day under the curse of a mysterious illness I could not understand was heartbreaking. Every day was a painful day to go through. He was constantly in pain; he ate less and less until he refused to eat forever. I was watching him slowly leave us; there was nothing anybody could do. Seeing my father in such conditions, all my doubts about me being a nurse suddenly faded, and I stayed in nursing school. All I wanted was to become one who would be there for people in need.
Within a few weeks, my mother grew ten years older; my sister dropped out of school to stay at home with our father. My little brother was only seven-years-old, but one day I overheard him talk to God; “it hurts to see father in pain. Please God if you are not going to make him feel better, please let him go with you.” Hearing these words, I did not know what to say or what to do, but hide this little tear in the corner of my eye and silently cry. My brother also knew father was leaving us. One day father called us all and spoke to us his last words: “I am only a man; I am not perfect. As a husband and father there are many things I know I did not do right, but if there is anything any of you holds against me, I ask you to forgive me.” Sobbing in tears, he left the room. I still don’t understand how I felt; there is no word for it. It is this feeling I have when I know that all hopes are long gone, but I still want to hope…hope that my father lives long enough to see my children. It is this feeling I have when I know it is time to let go, but I hang on tight anyways. Even though I knew he was going to a better place, I still cried. Why? I don’t know.
I finished nursing school; I worked at a children’s hospital as an emergency room nurse, then in a private clinic where I had a chance to watch surgical operations. It was fascinating! I was mostly fascinated by the team of anesthesiologists whose contribution to surgical procedures exceeded my expectations. I realized that the success of a surgery mostly depended on the success of the anesthesia. Anesthesiology is a science, but it often involves the practitioner’s intuition. I was amazed at the intelligence of the anesthesiologists, and I decided to go back to school to become a certified Registered Nurse Anesthesiologist.