Posted: December 21, 2016 by PaanLuel Wël Media Ltd. in Books, Poems., Wenne Madyt Dengs

By Wënnë Madyt Dengs, Juba, South Sudan

Ruined by the SUN, by Wënnë Madyt Dengs

Ruined by the SUN, by Wënnë Madyt Dengs

Those lilies where my colors;
When I was a spice of your heart,
I spelled my dignity to whet your romance,
When the thunder stormed the knot of our hearts,
Making us lousy.
It shocked my nostril;
there I failed to smell the nectar of your affection.
Hatred had licked it clean,
No more stillness
I got drowned in distraction

I am no longer your wife
day and night,
I am the drum you beat
how do I sound
on the ears of your hand?
Does it give them peace?

Oh, and God forbids, Lino
I am not yielding,
I will not spit myself
on the mud off thoughts

For I was once the gazelle
of the meadows
and your heart the feet that stalked

Not this drum beaten
as time rolls

When will I be honey
never spat?
When will I be the mother
of your children,  Lino?

If this love is a stale path, Lino
let’s return the gazelle
to the meadows.

I am losing my eyes
inside this cave
it’s where clouds of cigar smoke
and your teeth are rusting

Your pals are jerks
one provokes a cough
when he yaps,
the other makes me weep
when he talks.

Why lino?
Have you forgotten
Are you not a gentleman?
Whose neck must not forget
a tie?

Now your mouth is a chimney
where smoke billows
ethanol is the perfume
in your mouth,
it does not know fresh

Do you need me to hang my pride, under this roof?
I’ll tear my womanliness into gravels of curse;
for you to enjoy the remaining nights outdoor.
With your stingy harlots

Your wallet has never stayed pregnant

It miscarriage in those dark corners

Where you take the aqueous pills

That cholera your pocket is suffering from,

Must be underground’s made

The way it dehydrates your pouch hope

Proves that man was born naked


In this grotto

I’m living like a slave

Every day is a black day

My intestines are blocked

By leaves and roots

That’s what your richness means

Dwelling on crocodile scale

Days and night seem to overhead

I am battling with this mannish ignorance,
The way Lino spits when he hears a word of my mouth is dark
I’ve to slaughter his manhood in this house
The way my tongue is itching here
I deserve to taste the bitterness of his masculinity


If you were a tablet

You would be quinine
if all were yours

You would buy earth

If Jesus comes back;
you would tell him to revisit the bible

how does it taste in your mouth?
When you’re a two-faced
how does it smell?
When you stride on my femininity

Lino, they are all women,
But not mothers

In this tukul
all changes with wallet
I’m a sweetheart today
And I become a bitter heart a day later

where are you going my husband?
You’re burning yourself,
With this hot Awalwala
It has no feet to run
Eat your meal with a harmless appetite

My elders,
my husband comes home late
When he is vibrating
With his finger;
Tagged in his mouth
Silencing me
He says that I speak,
Dozens of words in a minute

My elders,
my husband comes home late
when he can’t afford to speak a word
He just rushes and falls asleep
He doesn’t eat
He says that he is tired

Oh, Lino
A man eats what his wife prepares
To taste what his muscles ripe
I’m your wife
The one you chose;
In her womanliness

I’m not lazy
As you think;
I take cattle to the river,
When my neck is loaded;
With a bundle of firewood
I cook and nobody eats
Oh, my hubby
Don’t break my heart
I fetch water for cows
When you are in wilderness

Truth is camouflaged
My eyes tell tales
that are hidden in your mind’s eyes
I breathe in no hope
Your saliva carries venom
that poisons my ears

*****   ******    ******


Tell me my sister
is it true that roots of education are bitter?
And that education is the key to success?
I don’t really know,
I once tasted its bark;
It was sour
I felt restrained

how do its leaves taste?
Does it produce juice too?
My husband calls be a fool
what does he mean?
I don’t know

That education is the light,
what about Jesus?
Our pastor once said, it’s Jesus
I don’t know

that a person who doesn’t give money is called an economist?
Is it true?
Tell me,
my husband once told me that,

My sister,
what makes your lips be red?
Is it feeding on the fruits of education?
Give me one
I want to taste

Lino once told me

That in upper house

They pray for today
when their hands are dirty
with the blood of tame life
Temple smell likes butchery

Every tender wears tatters
in their myopia,
they don’t see their identity
their claws;
Grow beyond manageable height

Their laws,
are written in frosted paper
in black ink
that can’t be read in daylight
their hearts keep roaming
on how to kill

Temple of the wild
It’s where jackal meets hyena
Temple of the wild
It’s where lion chairs the meeting
Temple of the wild
It’s where Hare keeps the treasury

Voice of Aquarius

True is one

Dearest sister

Those seeds
lost their viability
to their buying ability
when they got mental inability
in untamed-traditions

In those birds
which poured them out,
to the western bank
of the river world
some of them were wise
but now wild

They speak bitterness
their minds are affected
when they got influenced
by the white pest

Those seeds
are of a long dormancy
Covered with a hard coat
even callous,
they got soaked in cement,

Their endosperm is artificial,
they’re uncultured
they’ll yield whores
they’ll yield drug-addicts

****   ****   ****


My sister

This land
should learn
How to lend
her heritage
it’s our prestige

This soil
don’t spoil
It’s like oil
don’t coil
in mud foil

This ground
is round
don’t be proud
I’ll be around
to dig this ground

Peace be with her
The mother
Of our hearts,
thou shall not be hurt

That they’re dead
Even their death
is also dead
Even what killed them
is also dead
they’re buried in dead-graves

Those graves are covered with dead leaves
All is dead
Even their souls
Are dead
what a terrible death!
That made all dead
Like it was dating the dead
Here is also dead,
Even their gods
Are said to be dead
This is a deadly death
That has made all to be dead


They celebrate the death of our fellows
It’s where we get innate free lunch
Hunger has depleted our ethics
Our egotism propels our hearts

They’re humans without customs
they dance on the graves
to shed our glee
as they flee to hell

They’re starving
to acquire curse
by stirring the blood
they carry the ghostly cross
in our hands to our hearts

When a child dies
they vow and form a dyke
when a man dies
they converge and fill our bellies;
with wrathful manna
To undo our hearts away
Since his death is a function of our sin

Which niche are they inheriting?
In the days of revelation
Human eats human
a real sign of a devil victory
is here!


How shameful am I?
When my mouth,
is the den of curse
that nurtures segregation

How cheerful am I?
When my heart is the home,
For orphans and widows
in my life course

How proud am I?
When my tongue,
Extinguishes glowing flames
and helps in rebuilding

How healthy am I?
When I am not an enemy
to any living man
for enmity blocks the path to mercy

How happy am I?
When my hand bleeds humanity
that solves dire destitution
Angel live to uplift all

How grateful am I?
When I am an eye opener,
that creates new hope,
For the hopeless

How unkind am I?
When I bully the disadvantaged
when I bear selfishness
in my witness

Voice of Aquarius

Those hills
were tombs
Where Caesars
Where buried
those hills
Where once
Bought with an ounce
their sales
were oblivion
those hills
were tombs
Where pharaohs
were buried
those hills
Pass ’em not
they’re obsolete routes

*****   *****    *****



Tears have dried up

I have wept my emotion

My feelings are screwed

The sense of romance passed on

My husband is a love-traitor

His mind sleeps in the palm of his feet

As if he had eaten the foot of a dog

He never sleeps at home

He hunts for:

“This bat
which moves at night,
slim and half-naked
this bat
who hears echoes
of a night
When night daggles
this bat
Gets reloaded
When the beats are rolled
this bat
When she hears this song,
She is like under monsterous possession
it’s a dying mom!
This bat
Moves at night
Loves ’em
who are blessed
with heavy foreskins

******   *****  *****   *****

I am not hidden in the heart of no human
I was born to tie before I die;
the demon that exists beneath man’s eyes
My eyes are not green either,
I have an optical far away from mankind’s

With all, I promised this world
My human soul dies every day
Gossips have scorched my heart
I’m squeezed into a tiny being
I dwell in the room of endurance

I just closed my eyes
and held my breath
I didn’t know
this betrayal
In the race for the honey
It would tarnish sight

I never knew
That I was an enemy of an insanity
I just had to let’s go
We’re meant to be tempted

*****  *****  *****  *****


When I swallow a flame of fire,
Just give me a breeze,
I’m not an eternal fire

In me a glass of respect

It crystallizes my gaseous emotion


The only thing you like is bone marrow,
You smear your fate,
And remains like a spade

I’ll cover it

With my integrity

I know,

That you’re a food for immorality

About The Author: Wënnë Madyt Dengs is a spirited young South Sudanese poet who developed his strong passion for writing for years while in high school. His first endeavor into literature was first poetry collection ‘Art Wizard’ published online by CreateSpace publishers, Amazon. However, he writes copious journalistic articles which are published by different magazines, newspapers and websites as well as his participation in various journalism activities in South Sudan. He is now residing in Juba, South Sudan. You can reach him via his email: Wenne Madyt Dengs <>


  1. […] via RUINED BY THE SUN [Part 1] — PaanLuel Wël: South Sudanese Bloggers. […]


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