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    Let the Bird Free - Book One


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    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
    />
      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.
    >
      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.

     

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