RAT ALERT



RAT ALERT

I watched with undivided attention as they scampered into the cracked walls,
Through the crevices, pipes and metals that had gone rusty and old.
Their legs trembled from the weight of their grateful stomachs that had been filled with booty from the rotten spoils of the trash can.
Two brothers, devoted to each others well being
But wrecking and rummaging through the business of men.
Their beady eyes shone with mischief, for they had no cares at all.
They sneered from the dark corners they called home
At men who bothered with clothes and technology -Trends and burdens.

Yesterday brother one scurried below their feet,
Sending chills and stirs through the spines of the bravest men.
The stink that emanated from their body was their secret weapon for survival.

I don’t know how long they have lived here,
Under the shadows of this mighty fortress.
But I applaud their bravery!
Little rats who dare to contest with men.
For they too call this fortress home.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE STRANGE TALE OF THE GREAT IROKO

The news of my father’s death hang heavy on our necks like the chains and shackles of a thousand Salaga  prisoners. The cries of twenty five newly widowed women pierced the thick darkness the moonless night brought, leaving it empty and completely dead. The only light that shone through the night was the happy flickering fire in Pokuya’s eyes. She was Papa’s youngest wife, and still in her prime. Perhaps, the sad news in itself was liberation to her forcefully captured heart, and as much as she wanted to hide how she felt, she couldn’t shed a single tear. She went unnoticed by the other wives who were stuck fast in a herbal bath of nauseating melancholy. Any woman who did not cry when her husband died was branded a witch per the custom of Nsuma.   I am an outcast. I am a griot. I am a loner who often sits under this Iroko tree with a chewing stick in one hand and my chin resting in the other. My bulgy eyes are pregnant with unseen and untold secrets of passers-by. No one talks to
Read more

SHOWER HEAD

Image
I cannot recollect the number of times I have found warmth in you… You understand my battles and you hear the echoes too The echoes in these walls where nothing ever happens Where hopes evaporate and happiness has fled And every day is a nasty war, bloodier than before. You have heard my chanting through the night Praying and crying for redemption from life’s sinking sands I find no peace here, I find myself in pieces here. So I run to you for comfort Alas I am weary and the tissues of my heart are worn out Worn out from the journeys they wished I had traveled in pursuit of love and the luxuries of life. Reignite my passion to live on without fainting Maybe I aimed too high.  Maybe I deserve the low I like how your waters burn my skin My skin reddens as I groan in pain But I crave your touch…It is the only reality I understand. Maybe happiness is not for everyone…. I learn this every day.
Read more

MY DEAR BROTHER, CURTIS.

MY DEAR BROTHER CURTIS I don’t remember exactly how he sprang up from a little baby to a toddler who was learning to take infantile steps. But I could care less. I was deeply transfixed in my own world of school, trying to keep up with the “Bookworm” title I had achieved. I never paid any attention when he would move around with his make-believe steering wheel, honking and pushing people out of the way as he drove his imaginary car. He would almost always metamorphose from the driver he was to “Buzz light year” and then to “Captain Planet” all in a day. But to me, he was just a little boy who was engrossed in cartoons, Legos and miniature cars – just like all the others. At night, when I would keep my feet in freezing cold water to keep myself awake so I could study through the night, I would watch my brother sleep on the couch and snore like a little pig who had had a hard day of bathing in sloppy mud. Like always, he waited for someone to whisk him off to his room. But that
Read more