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Let the Bird Free - Book One

Raissa Batieno


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

  https://pubyourself.com

  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
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  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.
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  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.