By Dzekashu MacViban
Friday, July, 08, 2011.
Out went we, with flocks and herds
Out of Pharaoh’s custody, seeking
The Promised Land. Songs of deliverance
Rose from griots and gongs – tore
Tore the air with liberation-lyrics.
Our marriage— now a vague dream—
Was some distant lore of how
WE LIVED IN DEATH.
Wrapped in gnomic clouds, cold wings
Of attack beat our numbers
As divided we stood
Marching to the tune of the prophet’s voice—
“Hope must forever burn in our hearts.”
Our swords tasted the Amalakites’ flesh, and ours
In the wilderness of Sinai.
We moved under the watchful eyes of the sun
As mirages danced at a distance
Could it be our promised land? Our hearts beat.
Had we left this Mameluke-kingdom
Just to come back? Surely, this must
Be our promised land!
What new encounters, these be
With the self unseen?
Methinks it’s an inner strength
Resulting from some inner struggle—
The flame rises
To cause unshackling— of thoughts.
Coup d’ Etats in Africa
There’s a coup d’état
New persons impose themselves to-night
And take into their hands— the Power –
To wreck the ship-of-state
Give a dog a bad name, then hang it.
Thy throne’s thy grave…
A young snake kills its mother
Yet, it ain’t different
Déjà vu, I’d say
As a dishonest saint replaces another
Is this our fate until the Second Coming?
MacViban is the author of a poetry collection titled Scions of the
Malcontent, and his work has featured in Palapala, Saraba, African
Writer, Aaduna and is forthcoming in Wasafiri. He lives in Cameroon and
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