Poems by Nnane NTUBE
Dance now to dance no more
If you like, dance.
Feel free. We’re in a world with no chains.
Dance! Dance with the crown on your head,
Dance with your royal robe flying high,
Spread it on the royal seat
And move like an Ostrich sipping royal air,
Brandish your dancing style with pride,
Jump and dance!
Swing your Stuart legs on our fragile soils,
Crush our crops with your toes,
No! Swing them even further!
Spread them across borders,
Drop your hands like a kite
And hit us by surprise,
Carry them up, majestically, we shall kow-tow,
Dance! Dance! Dance!
When the drum shall sound,
You’ll dance no more.
If you like, dance,
Dance with our huts on your head,
Dance with our loin round your groin,
Dance with our women in moonlight hotels,
Dance in your bathroom,
Pour our sweats on your smooth body
Dance with our children’s future in guarded malls,
Dance like a woman in hard labour,
Pull leaves from branches with your turbulent sound,
Use us like an Osier for your art,
Dance! Dance! Dance!
When the drum shall sound,
You’ll dance no more.
Dogs are mad again
Dogs have inhaled dried cold whisky,
Tots of power from poor master’s cup
Have blown their brains,
Eyes ablaze with action,
Perception in confused directions,
Dogs have grown mad.
They rolled on the floor with treble barks
To act in stupor
At the scratch of poor master’s
commanding fingers,
A stun gun to stunt visions
Dogs have grown mad.
They’re bringing down skirts of female preys
Tearing through their bushes with
speedy limbs
In search of what could make them prey,
Dogs are chasing the wild
That danger to the master’s seat
Hunting them to the very end,
Hard times, red eyes, dogs are mad.
Dogs are mosquitoes disturbing
Our peaceful sleep,
Creeping in darkness to waste our bloods
Dogs are vampires toasting our bloods
in closed doors
Beasts, slicing our bodies for honour rolls
Dogs are mad.
They’re tossers tossing aside our movements
Stealing our rights in dark clauses,
Vultures feeding on their own carcasses
