Noëlle Bolou

Bolou, Ivorien writer and inspirational speaker, lives in Washington. She is the author of New Paths, a collection of poetry. She is a translator and holds an MA in English. She has recently completed a novel in French, Un Souffle de Vie (A Breath of Life), which is awaiting publication. Her most recent readings were made at the Fall for the Book Festival at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia and at local churches.

Bloody Rocks

Blood-tainted diamonds
         creeping along the gloomy streets of
         Seguela, Monrovia, Freetown.
Blood-shadowed marbles
         traded for guns, bullets, Kalashnikovs
         in the blood-spattered hands of lawless rebels.
Blood-stained shimmering pebbles
         priced more than human life.
Blood-ridden minerals
         passing through the gates of hell,
         then enthroned on deluxe display stands
         under close watch in New York City, London,
Blood-colored, bloody rocks as deadly as bullets,
         shiny but yet so gloomy.
Blood-cleaned diamonds
         hanging loud on the necks and ears
         of fancy dressed smiling ladies
         somewhere on a blood-colored red carpet.

Spring

To see all of creation slowly
Come back to life
When it seemed irreversibly dead.
To hear the quivering of the bushes
Filled with creatures
Looking for some food.
To smell the warm scent of the earth
So full of life
And ready to give birth yet again.
To admire the promising pallet of vernal flora
Abound with early fragrance
And fill the air with an exhilarating mood.
To take a deep breath of new air
Around a new path
At the birth of a new, promising day.
The wonderful beauty of Creation
Is not the product of chance
It is a program calculated in all perfection.
Let us open our hearts, and we will see
He who has made it all
He to whom all things belong.

If I had wings

If I had wings
I would fly above the oceans
and the seas, the deserts
and the plains.

I would be caught
through the winds of the West
and the winds of the East,
through the winds of the North
and the winds of the South.

I would rise high up
above the tree tops
and above the mountain peaks,
above the majestic Kilimanjaro.

I would go past the clouds
that slowly slide through the blue firmament.
I would reach higher and higher,
spreading my wings wider and wider
until I reached the throne of God.