I cannot cry

I cannot cry

Something has happened to me
I cannot cry
Locusts have come from the east
Locusts have come from the west
The day is dark with their wings
And the farm is dead

The bones of the shepherd is left on the rock
His cleft is dead with the sheep in the field
Oji-egbe who lives by the river
Is back from his wandering
He has exchanged his oars for rifles
And now marks his homestead with gunpowder
He answers our greetings with gunfire
We cannot tiptoe to the water

We shall die from the hunger
Or perish in the hail of bullets
We who only wish to greet the sun
And the neighbors bearing gifts
We shall die of hate
Or perish with fear
Fear of the gifts that now bear death
From our neighbor back from his wandering

Shall we now scratch our backs
On the rhubarb bark
Shall we hide a bomb
Gift wrapped in our bosoms
Should we bury Oji-egbe
In the evil forest?
Far from the wailing in our homestead
Far from the ancestral grove, now desolate
He is our brother, so we thought
He is our neighbor, so we thought.

Something has happened to me
I cannot cry
The village square is inlaid with thorns
I cannot dance
The song is set to gun fire
I cannot sing.


( for Kofi and all those that died in the Nairobi Westgate mall terrorist attack )



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Dubai

A city of fingers
Bedecked in jewels coarse and subtle

Fingers sculpted in imaginations set free from the limits of cash

Fingers
Stuck out at the sky
Fingers adorned with a million stars shrouding the sky with their rainbow blinks

Long thin fingers
Wafting through closets and safes and bank accounts
Grasping fingers finagling value out of thin air and powdery dust

Fingers reclaiming life from nature, water and desert
Wresting habitat from sun sea and salt

Fingers of black and gold, finest silk and coarsest calico
Fingers hiding the souls behind a mask
Hiding the prada behind a gown but flaunting the masaretti

A city of fingers
Is false like her nail polish
Temporary like her Brazilian hair
Fingers that beacon pockets and reason
Fingers that flick off roots like cigarette ash.

Dubai.


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Chim, maje

You have put shelter above my head
And placed strong beams to hold it
Swallows and doves make their nest in the eaves
There they lay their eggs and compose their tunes
We are safe from the maelstroms raging above
Us and the birds that have lost their wings
And the dogs that have lost their bark

We do not know how far you rolled the rocks
Nor how deep you have sunk their foundations for the beams
We cannot fathom the walls you have built around us
That have repelled the wind and the whirlwind
And has withstood the sword and the cannon

Our flour is not running out
Our oil jar remains full
You have served us bread in the midst of famine
You have given us extra for our enemies
And those whose homestead no one now remembers
You have opened our hands to share
And the remnants overflow our store

We have traversed through the jungles
Jungles of concrete, jungles of flesh, jungles of blood
We have traversed the wilderness
Wildernesses of the hungry lion and his cub
We have swam seven seas and seven rivers
Seven hills and seven mountains
We have met men, we have met demons and
we have met men that are demons
We have roamed far and wide
We have roamed in flesh and in spirit
And you have brought us home

Chim, maje




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I don't want to make money

I want to build a house
That will last for ages and ages
To be wondered at and explored
To be a shelter and a palace
A refuge and a shrine
A house to be yearned for in souls
That have wandered far and wide

I want to cure cancer
And abolish pain and maesectomy
I want to make the fathers see their children
And the children their children
And keep the kindred gods happy in their abode
Their abode bereft of ancestors

I want to spread cheer
And smiles across the wilderness
That now stretch from face to face
I want to share a laugh and a shirt
And add a shoulder to the plough
That adds another bushel to the harvest

I don't want to make money

I want to know
The fabric that keeps the eye
Glued to the head and the heart in the chest
I want to discover the strange songs of the stars
And the conversation of the rocks
Sitting on the roadside

I want to debate
With the sea crashing on this beach
Ignoring the oil and the egg
I want to call the wind howling silently
To witness my incantations for calm

I want to count my treasures
In memories shared of laughter and tears
And just the silence of hearts in rhythm.
I want to erect monuments to knowledge
And mercy and charity laid like a carpet
For searching hearts.

I don't want to make money.


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Today is our anniversary

The sun rose today
as it always has
the night has fled before
the arrows of light shooting wake up
into our bleary eyes.

The sky is clear again
as it usually is
the clouds have sailed away
nudged on by the gentle breeze
caressing our damp foreheads .

The house is happy again
as it likes to be
the melancholy of loneliness
drowned in the chatter of new lives .

Our life is complete again
as it should always be
the simple joys we share
are all there is to promise.

Thank you for them.


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You will still be here

I am standing here
Like I always do
Staring across your watery leagues
Wondering where this wind comes from
Now salving my dry skin
Now raising my rumpled cape
And now driving this tumult.

I close my ears here
Like I always do
And still the coursing blood
To a crawl and to a trickle.
I listen to your growls and slaps
To your roars and your whispers
And wonder what to answer.

I stretch out my hands here
Like I always do
My spirit wanders out across the leagues
Above the clouds and in between
We wrestle between the rocks and crevices
Drenched with the salinity of your sweat.

I build my castles here
Like I always do
Knowing they are built on sand
Knowing they will not stay
Beyond our courtship dance.
I build them still with turrets and battlements,
Armoured cars and diamond scepters
I build them still with sweat and blood.

I make my dreams here
Like I always do
I choose my cast from these travelers
Matching oblivious to your gaping maws
Matching your drumbeats and their heart beats
Scenes and acts woven from the debris
In your wake.

I will go away
Like I always do
And leave you to your beat
And to your rage and to your fury
I will leave at moonlight
But you will still be here
Like you have always been.


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What more do you want of us?

What more do you ask of us
Deity of the depths
Beyond the cola with six lobes
And the palm nuts of the two headed tree?

We have brought the chameleon and his powder
The cricket and his drums
What more do you ask of us
To salve this your hunger foaming all night

The goats were fat and fresh
The yams long and fat
We have danced around the fire
And yelled into your wind
What more do you ask of us?

This your anger that throws fits all day
Has eaten the cock and still boils
Has eaten the palms and still boils
Has eaten the earth and still boils
What more do you ask of us?

You have taken your priest
As you have his father and his father before him
Now you must accept supper from strangers
Supplications from cast-offs
Sacrifice on broken pots

What more do you ask of us,
But boulders and rubles from afar
Soil borrowed from our enemies
Craft learned from the spirits
To meet your anger.

Our roots are in this soil
We will not make our nests in the air
Our roots are in this soil
We will not breed beneath your waves
What more do you ask of us?

Deity of the depths
Meet us half way, that is our prayer
Still your anger, that is our request
Return our soil, that is our demand
What more do you want of us?

Do not expect sacrifice from our king
Nor supplication from his court
Deity of the depths
The palace is on stilts, as you can see
Their boats stand at the ready

What more do you ask of us?

---------—---------
***the sea is eating our coast
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