A Word to a Politician

A change promised, on knees and pleas
Asking and announcing a dreamy dawn
With words that soothed a troubled terror
And our unthinking hearts ruled the mind
Trusting a chance and a courage of will
Unable not to hope in a penitent politician

Speak not with smiles, but ask our fate
A sorrowful state unshelled in shackles
Staggering a self-pity, in change’s name
Our heads reeled, stunned by your clout
Unable to conceive meaning, forgive us
But do ask us, once only, our aspirations

Reality has eclipsed our obscured dreams
How can we tap a dance to a tune offbeat?
Our senses insensated by your insensitivity
If we knew, that a sun’s shine could fade
A river’s flow stilled and distilled as drink
Served as wine for dinner, a party rather?

The gluttony of power, a blinding light
Did cast darkness over your grand vision
Our wounds and aches you did not bear
The woes we sanctified you to eradicate
Our ignorance, your sanctuary of strength
Your intent, worse than our feared fears

Again, you come, to seek and to receive
Our faithfulness, a pledge of our sanity
On a warm day, when a charcoal glows
And a vulture circles above your highness
Asserting your feats in feasts of fulfilment
With specious stories to alter our attitudes

Our hearts’ been punctured in two places
Thus our unflinching wits weave our views
Dispelling the twists and suspense of logic
Our thoughts think and we discern a dawn
We seek a frank reality, not your imaginings
Too long, a perfect lie lived in our name

We cannot visualize your vision, you didn’t
We witnessed your antics, our eyes and ears
Your pomp unmasked in fresh dainty daisies
Demanding the annals to spell you a tribute
The cock crowed at noon, have you heard?
As presaged by the fetish of mumbled words

How soon a sun sets, the twilight has come
We, mere spectators have become judges
Unlike you, we are incorrupt and fairly fair
You are flabby and ailing, what can you offer?
Your image depicts an apology and regret
Sadly sloshed beside stinking shades of frolics

Failed, is a slighted word for your reign
Your ego forth all the differing opinions
Our yearnings and your vision run parallel
Like Achilles, fighting for King Agamemnon
What are we without you? A flawed flock?
Take a rest; stand in the shade and observe

tis christmas

On a light harmattan morning,
A gaily festivity descended on us,
And an aroma of carols filled all,
Tis Christmas, the bells tolled.

Christmas is a fulfilled promise,
Of God’s promise, His love,
Our hearts gladden with joy.
Tis Christmas, the bells tolled.

A christened celebration of gaiety,
With wishes and presents and you,
A greater love our earth rejoices,
Tis Christmas, the bells tolled.

Merry tidings, we freely share,
As we’ve receive, so do we give,
To fulfil the vision – oneness of us,
Tis Christmas, the bells tolled.

right or left???

Let us go this way, they said,
Nah, lamented the others,
They’re wrong, our path is better;
Bickering, the activity they performed.
Each, trying to persuade the public.
Fingers pointed; accusingly at others;
Persistently, they radiate their words,
As projects, flowering handsomely.

Hear them, hear us, verbose oratory,
Like us, they once were.
In ostentatious places, they dine now.
A vow, they have taken, to lead us:
To serve us, they claim is their delight.
The pledge, a better tomorrow.
As ironic as impotency and cocky as diabolism,
Does any of them know that we're dying?

Where to? We don’t know
How can they? Then:
Relentless visions and dreams,
Manifestos echoing reverberatingly,
Tirelessly, like clang in our ears.
Incomprehensible and animated;
They have confused and divided us,
Only then can they rule.

Hope, tis you we long for:
They lure us with your image;
Blurred and at a cost.
Of freedom, and of rights,
Hostilities and lies, acrimonious sown:
Greed slaver their tongues,
Different names, they call themselves;
Their objective, singular – milk us dry.

Slogans of unity, they campaign with
Why not a united front?
For country and for people?
Fear people who don't get along,
They have further sub-divided themselves.
The Centre, the Far Left, the New Right,
Left of Right, Right of Centre and more.
When are we going to learn?

Politicians, they call themselves,
What a profession; politics.
Tricksters, hypocrites and sycophants, they are
‘Trihypophants’ we should call them.
Their minds intoxicated with power;
To boast their ego and obscure their weakness,
They seek only, their interests.
Otherwise, why manipulatively confuse us.

We have to dig deep into ourselves
Tis courage we need.
Let us learn from the ants;
The book of Proverbs espouses us.
They don't have rulers,
And we are brainy then them.
What legacy are we leaving our children?
The ones we say we love.

Collectively, we are the new force,
Our concerns, our priority;
As one, we create a synergy,
Of talents, beauty and strength.
A harvest, will our economy be:
Our land will become rich and powerful,
A wealth nation, an affluent system,
Our legacy to our children.