Wisdom is dark
– the soothsayer’s tongue,
Muse is the Cock’s cry,
Strength is from tongs.
Magnificent; son of a Mammoth;
Royalty is born as a Maggot,
Admitted as Cadillac,
Mediocre is Cadaver.
To see the world in multicolour;
Accept the feat in variety;
This too, is delirium,
A drunk’s tale; a fallacy.
Domestic- a beast of burden,
Remote are the feats of the Donkey,
Construed as the woman’s place,
Illustrated as without grace.
Wood and Stone- the Primitive,
gods are of ‘the elements’,
“creators of antiquity”,
“To foul the holy- negligence!”
For strength, they call the Buffalo,
Oblivious of the Aurochs,
To hold on to dark ego,
And call forth wisdom from rocks.
To tame the ruinous Bull and Ox,
And flee before the Windmill:
“Let Light and Knowledge laugh and scoff,
And Wisdom- let it bid will!”
“The gods shall give a jubilee,
Let arms give of their strength!
The fields are green and lush with glee;
Make less the hunger, lest we fret!”
“We like the Yams atop our tables,
They quench our sorrows with Love and Fables;
Fortify our Faith in Love and Mirth,
Why ask for ‘Daily Bread’?”
“Unleash a new and ‘golden age’,
In Cries and Chains, let them pay Wage,
Take away their Jollity,
Let Pain become their Polity!”
We have heard of ‘Liberty’,
Sweet tale, told by ‘Luther-cy’,
When finally, Freedom we see,
It- in our Dreams- certainly will be!
When shall we ever earn this license?
Debasement- this now takes our incense!
When shall we lose this Depravity,
Come now, help with Alacrity!
“‘The Fates’ now our souls tease,
You must shorten our Solstice!”
You with eyes, help without fail,
Do not wait, “Black” is a tale.
Artwork by Ken Nwadiogbu (Kenart)