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Tuesday, 4 October 2016

ABROADISM: EPISODE EIGHT

Arrows, Bow And Arrow, Shooting, Archery
16. The Mystery of Confusion
Let there be lush and light
To see the eyes of crushed criers
Fated to blue and blight
And men as lapin liars
Let there be grace and goads
To see the eyes of nomads and night
Fated to painting bodies of bearers of loads
And men in ire and ice as fright
Let there be singers of songs
To tell of glory of bearers of burden
Fated to hail doers of wrongs
And men to waste in trauma too sudden

When men dream to wet the sun
When men call to heat the ocean
When men rise to fall and fold the sky
When Callisto is their story of change
When women wait for their men’s restoration
When white is bloody and red is shining
When gods are tormentors and listeners are deaf
When husbands own fury and lacks love eyes
Who cannot know it’s the mystery of confusion?
But my I still want to learn of change!

                                                                        Hopeace
                                                                        Over


17. No Newness in Changes
My father used to drink emu
From akeregbe with a calabash cup
But now he drinks men’s drink
Brewed in bottled with a glass cup
My father used to sniff taba
But now he smokes cigarette
He used to wear buba and sokoto
And agbada on top
But now he wears shirt and trousers
And suit on top, but now it’s
Old hunting with no arrows but guns
Old cargos in new vehicles
Old ways in new legs
Old stories in new mouths
Old swords in hands of new swordsmen
Old battle on new names and new fields
Old famine in new intensity, but it’s
Old promises against corruption, by old lords
Old fight against oppression, by old lords
Old attitude of impatience by old and new servants
Old surprises of disappointments by old lords
Old happenings in old and new ways.
That cheetah calls lion a predator,
That leopard calls jaguar a killer cat
Is no newness in games of change.
And bellies are still waiting to be filled.
                                                            Ksooang,
                                                            At Home
Antique, Gun, Rifle, Vintage, Weapon

2 comments:

Abraham Samuel said...

"Mystery of confusion" your use of paradox is great. Maybe I should call it mysteries of confusion, because I think it's applicable to everywhere, not just Nigeria, but world over.How can man underscore mystery? I think mystery and fate are like Siamese twin. Should one abort his or her dreams because of some supposed mystery
What is change?
Can one really change?
How do one start the change? when the world is moving so fast...can solitude be one of the foot path to change?

Like Michael Jaskson I will say it begins from 'I' let everyone personalize the pronoun I "...see the kids in the street, without enough to eat, who are my to be blind pretending I don't see their need..."

Samuel Oladimeji Kuye said...

True sir, fate is mysterious. Change is fate itself and mysterious in nature. I think. Actually, I agree with you, I don't know what the muse meant but I will read so that I can know. The world is running fast, we run along even as we intend to cause change. The world changes us most times. Thanks sir, fir the comment.