FROM A MOUND OF EARTH…
[winter coats the soil with lushes
& water breathes life;
grasses stretch themselves on the field
& dandelions flashed sunlight from a distance;
hands have been interceding for the soil-
long before leather gloves
in mess has purity found a robe
for what tales shall purity tell without mud?
does absence not make a parable with presence
/that the weight of a thing/ is vindicated by the vitality-
of the thing or person bearing it/ &
that every science & art of hygiene
doff their hats to filth; the search for dirt is endless.
that, as beautiful as salvation is-
it is a debt servicing cheque for filth.
filthy fingers feed the mouth gold
& a mound round the apple tree
feeds the heart merry at harvest]
RECLAIM YOUR STAKE
choice is such a gift that can be
likened to a double-barrelled gun.
you get your shot right and the game
savours your tongue.
you get it wrong & you shrink under the
weight of an avoidable burden.
ever wondered why a part of the world is a
charm conjuring the spirit of many to itself?
ever wondered why another part drives
her own out like a garbage truck?
it is about who heads them, it is about who
eyes and legs on their behalf.
choosing these heads, eyes & legs isn’t a
sign too encrypted not to be discerned.
it is discerning the hearts of those whose hearts
circulate the blood of a lion and a lamb.
it is verifying if their demeanour embraces all &
if their shoulder is broad enough for all.
these heads, eyes & legs are not short in supply
they are vast crops all around.
it is the loss of excellent values that made them
scarce & made pigs appealing to our ballot boxes.
we shall get our land right when we get our
heads, eyes & legs right.
for now, our plunge into confusion is only a
quarter to a coma.
be well peasants…
Poems © Ojo Olumide Emmanuel
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash