Tuesday 23 June 2015

arise O grains


the grain sacks shed tears of emptiness
their heads drop in pathetic folds

the gluttons are the green caterpillars
eaters without replenish…

and the keen hoes at the corner
are blunt from rusty whet

the land groans in the groins
from the grips of callous and ruthless roots…

and now hunger umpires
the lawns of our bowels…


they leave the house barren
and cart away the seed of hope in the barn…

alas! their breeds of white fowls
are concealed leeches of lies

they plant debts… grains of debts
a canker for the aging baba

they have plagued baba’s hunt
a decoy for the games of change…

dennis, things happen in this wilderness
vines die and the caterpillars live…


baba has shaken the sacks
and here it is…

the last cup of grains…

and this must suffice
for mother and ‘wazobia’

shall we soak this in the water of hope?

and sing ‘arise O grains’
to the beats of these hopeless spoons

for the soaked grains must rise
to be enough for all.