Skip to main content

Spring in the summer

The rains have missed for a while now, the swamps are drying up, the well to deep for an average diver,
The land is almost giving up
The cracks are visible
No plants are growing
Temperatures too hot
But removing the clothes will add nothing much to the equation
The fraction is already improper

The owners of the trees have not shown for a while
They say work requires alot
So no one will prun
No one will groom
Trimming is limited
The owners of the tree are working to destroy their livers
And with destroyed livers
No farming will be done
Blood to the veins will not be clean

The women are crying
For brighter days they are hoping
But some are wiser now
They look for agile young men in the villages
To help them flex their muscles
Wisemen said borrowed bread taste sweet
And that stolen water quenches thirst

The old men are drinking to their sorrows
Their guns no longer cough live bullets
Their gumboots no longer save them from the muddy pool
Their sweaters are like vests in winter
Their shoes know no socks
Because like i said
The fractions are already improper

But there is a silver lining
The day of the dog is beckoning
The light at the end of the tunnel
The government is starting a crack down on the illicit
That has deprived women of the plessure they much desire
As a token of appreciation for their hardwork
The grass will sprout again
In a short time grazing will be their newly found hobby
The women will wait with their fingers crossed
They wait again to fullfill God's commandment
Go multiply and fill the earth

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Artful Deception.

That morning, I stood rooted to the tiled floor with my hands on the poorly done window grills. I had been examining the structure that we called home. The Sun was lazy, casting weak monotonous rays on the ground. It had sufficiently rained the previous night and the air was still fresh.  Since my childhood, I had enjoyed the petrichor, it had a way of pumping life into my dead hopes, and couldn't wait for a few droplets of rain to hit the ground. It was a moment I always craved for. Half past seven in the morning, if not for the birds chirping so melodiously I wouldn't have travelled back to reality. "Normal is boring." I said to myself reaching for my phone that was religiously playing my favorite Bob Marley playlist. Nobody can stop reggae. The tweets that day were not as snappy as I would have wanted. Something was eating me up but still I couldn't figure it out, at least not at a time when Bob was reassuring that things would be alright. Music to me had alway
15 comments
Read more

Please Get Tired.

I write, You notice, You assume, I get disconnected And curse. " It's hard to show love to a stone" of no worth it is  making love to a marble, Shinny and elegant, Only adapting to the degree of my loving when in the same room And nothing is the same when we hug and part ways. I write You marvel Share it to friends And say "That was master class" You find it hard to read between the lines. Not born for the art, so you wont relate Our connection is relative, Like an uncle to a niece It's hi when we meet and high time when we don't. I notice You care less I get disconnected I miss her But who listens? I refuse to build a foundation on a forced connection I don't want to end up losing myself when you finally slip away like she did. Please get tired, and let me try to win her love back. I write Get tired And hope That if tomorrow ever comes with the darkness it left with, Then I would sit and wait for her to come aroun
3 comments
Read more

If Yesterday was Tomorrow.

And, if yesterday was tomorrow, What would you have done differently? Would you write that which the mouth was even afraid to whisper? Be a little bit poetic and feed the world with feelings, Just like any other slave of the pen? If yesterday was tomorrow_ Would you let the sun set with your heart still hurting? Would you  still call men dogs Just because a few like bones like you do? If yesterday was tomorrow, Would you talk of how it never comes And sing, hoping that You finally became a star? Would you share the last piece saved on your diary? Or, you would just have written another piece to entertain the skeletons in your closet, those that really never come out? If yesterday was to come after today would you still be talking of a having gruelling day and still seat and swipe your gadgets all night long lost in the virtual world? If yesterday was the day after today, Would you still claim to ride with your friends, Would you still talk of them the same way? For m
Post a Comment
Read more