Creatures from their abode above

The afternoon’s heat cannot hide

These creatures from their abode above

They jump and flap, flap and fly

They still mourn the passing

The sorrowful end of the nobleman

The land paid no reverence

In death his share was photography 

In my den

I will lead you then into my den

Whenever you have nowhere to go

An abode called nowhere

Somewhere where the paths meet the streets

Where your eyes will lead you

Through the corners and curves of nature’s gift

Oh its warmth and tenderness much to be desire

Your opened legs, eyes and mind

No free thing

Where have they all gone to

That he even begs

What should have been given to him freely

Loins that formed me

Father from whose loins formed me

Early and bright my thoughts abound

In the fear of your lord and master

When finally there

We’ll get there

It can be a smile

a path in the mind

that the eyes can’t measure

and when finally there

you’ll not see 

but others around you

Not picking my flies

I stand far away 

like a dog they came around me 

with their waist to dance

They shake their tail around

Not picking the flies that hover around

My bruising crown

SILENT CRIES

Blood like water

spilling on the bare earth

There is no time

mother earth to dig

his remains to leave

Hewed and gunned down

By a member of the clan

who spoke his language

and understood him no more

Our earth and its covering is scorched

and all which once sustained us

None but their echoes 

nothing but their ashes remain 
not even the raffia that held the family tight

N.B

Drops of misunderstanding when not nipped

in the bud among brothers and neighbours

can soon grow up into an ocean full of 

conflict, aggression and war that an entire

tribe can no longer swim in. 

Dedicated to

Professor Brandon Kendhammer.

Ohio University

African Studies Department.

10/05/2016