Poems by Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

Poems by Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

 

Black Crow

Once upon a dwarf time,
A black crow was heralded
To some far foreign lands,
To check the flooded earth,
And return with a report,
After some few days on earth;
He swore upon his mother to return.

The black crow soon took off;
With blissful heart swelling
Like a panting frog in Lake Victoria.
That’s what he’d been waiting for.
Croaking and flapping about
Over the treasure-pleasure citywide,
He saw heaps of lying carcasses
Kissing the poor planet earth;
Soon landed to survey their pockets.

Sipping blood of the carcasses
And devouring the flesh with the beaks;
He started singing a song:
Food is so nice, food is so nice;
Food is not refused anyhow;
Food is so nice, food is so nice,
Food is not refused anyhow.

He ate and ate till he couldn’t belly
Any food anymore and anywhere;
His belly ached with colostrals;
Till he forgot where he came from
And who sent him to this earth.

Soon, his master, sent the dove;
When he was flammocked to death,
To go for the same mission as Crow,
And soon he reached the planet earth,
Told the crow he was being waited for,
But the crow hushed it as rubbish;
Told the dove he couldn’t leave food
That stepped on one another on earth;
And he continued devouring the flesh
And drinking the flood of blood,
Till he forgot who he was.

Here, in heaven, the dove reached
With a crystal clear report on earth
That the floods was no more;
But flood of blood and flesh
Of dead things that stink worse;
And that the crow was still wanting,
And wanting and wanting to eat.

And Noah flew back on earth,
Got the crow, cursed him at once,
Never to know true joy in life,
For lying straight faced
And benefitting his belly alone,
And forgetting who sent him;
Said: `A Crow is always a crow,
A dove is always a dove,
A crow can never become a dove.`

The master then had this to say:
`Better promise nothing,
But do something
Than promise everything
But do nothing! `
And then he left with a raging anger.

 

The Chains

The chains on my head,
The chains in my mind,
The chains in my mouth,
The chains on my neck,
The chains on my hands,
The chains on my waist,
The chains on my legs,
The chains in my heart,
The chains on my back,
The burdens I still carry;
Not yet Uhuru.

My head is for carrying things,
They have even given me a name
Like a mere housewife,
I am a house of a wife
Or a wife of a house.
My thoughts are chased by thought-cops
For professed thought crimes,
My words twisted and censored,
They still give me yokes to carry,
Even when they sounded the bell to go,
They cannot let me go free,
They want me to go in a casket,
I am the beast of burdens;
Not yet Uhuru.

My back is for the daily loaves of canes;
My dreams are controlled
By those that don’t dream,
A dream where no skin colours matter
More than the colours of the flesh.
I still hear strange tongues preach
Division and substraction,
But not multiplication and addition,
They say monkeys are donkeys
To confuse the bees with smokes,
Then divide and milk without friction;
Not yet Uhuru.

My aptitudes are abolished
By the superiority complex
That I still stand to prove wrong,
I am a prisoner to my food
That poisons my thoughts,
My hands are in handcuffs
For committing no crimes,
My waist is romote controlled
By the soldiers of righteousness,
My legs in a snare for my left handedness,
My heart in chains of creeds,
False though they seem true,
I question their fishy truths,
Not yet Uhuru.
Who’ll emancipate me if not me myself?

©Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

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