FOR THE FLOOD

A poem for yesterday
And the day before
When the rain was pain
And our hearts were soured
For gargatuan deluge
Has deposed our refuge
Just the day before.

Like molten gold
In furious flow
All elements
In its path smelt
When the flood crept
Much lives were swept.
The heavens howl', scowl' and cried
Our mother cold, scold then shied
So she gave way
For a bad day.

What can I say?
What can I write?
When sorrow still hold the day
And many hearts were contrite

Only I pray
While the bells chime
'Affliction must not rise
The second time'.

And so this day
As the sky smiles
The sun mighty rays
Pluck bright flowers
On the graves of the dead
Sleeping in the river bed.

CONSTERNATION

Dashikied in her drizzle
And gradually getting soused...
This morning
See fledglings
Warm their wings
On her moist skin

This tweeting tribe
Life must have bribe'
For they neither toil nor spin
Nor do they gather into bin
Yet are well fed
In her daily banquet

While beings human
Man and woman
Are anxious, as they think
Of what to eat, what to drink
Wherewithal they'll be clothed
Working,Worrying...
To the very doorstep of grim death.

My Gallery Forest Scenery

Gallery Forest.

Three becks
Three becks swim the three vales
On the way
To my village.
One paths through
Dark neighbourhood
Of the forest evil
Where gnomes dance in
Macabre-dans
We only hear
None goes near
Save the initiates
None fish there.

The other edge the savannah
Flows to Atamora
And disappears into her cave, dead end.

The third
Source from a hollow shallow...
Here I love to sit
Throw pebbles at the fishes, gippies...
Hear the tinkling timbrels
Of the squeaking squirels
Where crickets, insects and birds
Compere ballets.

When the green mambas, pitch cobras, tense vipers slither pass I warned the rats
Should the python chanced by
I run and hide.

My gallery forest
dense and blest
Sit by this beck
From thence...
Spread its presence.

Patmos Pronunciations

The day of the lord
I read in the revelations
Will be worse than wars
Upon the world...
A day that will be
When the trees shall flee
And mountains will melt
Diseases of the Egyptians in seven-fold vehemence
Is re-kindled
For its the lord vengeance...

The day of sores, blood and total darkness
None has ever witnessed
Day of dearth, heat, hails and distress
Time of blasphemy from the tongue of men to their maker
When the lord's fury shall be vented via vials of wrath, filled-up and poured ...

Mercy as stranded
Is incapacitated...
For its the lord vengeance
Upon the earth for neglect
Of a blood shed on a crucifix
For her preference
for the mark of the beast...
Six, six and six.

Le Commencement de la fin

Imminence stretches
Well over ages
Millenniums, centuries
Jubilees and decades

Not really sluggish
But in patient mercies
Has thus lingered, wish'
To save us from hades

Now the spirit speaks expressly
No vague allusions of dark sayings
'I come quickly'
And time is dying.

There is a trend
In this time modern
That's now the blend
In the lands western

gods have assumed
This new pattern
Angels have consumed
From its Cistern

There are things altered
Some are totally changed
What's natural faltered
Life's estranged

gods now favor faux bodies
Cherubs carry cesium chests
Some have got laser pupils
Seraphs bare silicon breasts

Men, branded as cattle's
Women wearing tatoos
Kids in gun battles
And such as were taboos

Nation 'gainst nation in cold war
Kingdoms steep in tensions
Disasters, pestilence sore
The abomination of desolations

And that iniquities abound
Love is waxen cold
Say the trumpet soon shall sound
We needn't be told .

ALLI NAJEEBAT(Resqueiscant In Pace)

We tread same path
For she loved math...

When the news reached my ears
It took years ere it spread
And when it did, no tears
Only some rude shock, hot, red.

What stole your lil soul
Make me feel so old
Whatever stilled your heaving chest
Has roused in me a great unrest
What killed my little girl
Must have come with some spell
Should have taken me instead
Ought to spare your pretty head...
But time is different
And mine is lenient.

She was so young
Smart and strong,
She loved math
I teach that...

As for poems
She write them
With her eyes
Lucid and bright
-typical African-
In my heart...

Now, I've lost my rhythm and rhyme
A muse departed, I weep inside...

My pain non can comprehend
-For I've lost a faithful friend-
Not the pain of a hunter
For his assegai
Not that of a farmer
For his ruined Oryza
Its that of a rabbi
Whose's lost his rahki...
The pain of a teacher.

For We tread the same path
As she loved poems cum math.

Church Of The Poor.

Yesterday, in the night
I stood by her door
And watched her plight
The church of the poor...

Wrinkled. women worn with years
Speckled. men, fewer, aged likewise
Softened, repentant
Burdened, expectant
Sit side by side
List' to the preacher's
Interpreter
Rapt... In non-perfunctory genuflection.

Tattered, tired, tried
A pure gold, She Cried
To God, this ghetto church
For poverty so much.

Post-Mortem

Face of the future
Crumpled, muddled-
Up, Rock of feature
Rugged, Faulted
Massive as Drakensberg
Passive and Heisenberg.

In The Cradle

Lying sprawled
From P.G.A hall
In O.A.U
Is the cradle...
Like oil painting glossy
The sky vaunting foggy
The rest is green, deep
Like a lulling, to sleep.

NightNight

She has her fright
The fears of cruel plight
Everyone accords her.
How pure, so pitch, such phobos!

Yet, her dreaded person
Met me awaiting her return
Me, my gal
Aside a crumbling wall
Our tryst - fully conscious of the perilous peril -
To flirt, fondle and kiss
The deeds of the dark.

She scoffed
What an affront
An insult on her person!
And would have showed us
Her real stuff
But for mercy that stood in the breach
To stay the crumbling wall
From a fatal fall.

July 33rd

Today, July 33rd
We fight the same old war
With the eyes sword
And mad gestures
No spoken words
A tense tension...

This morn
As you sweep the yard
I long
For a simple Hi
None come
I only could sigh
And like Jesu Kristi
Groan in my spirit
Moan so silently
Damn! domestic perfidy...

How I long to mouth
For Am so uncouth
Long to let out
A big, big shout
Like in war front
'Happy new month`.