Poems by Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

Poems by Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

 

Dusk

It is a grey nightfall,
And I can see the sun
Rushing to his bed of thorns
After scorching the earth;
A crepuscular gloaming sky
Horns of horoscopic owls
Hoot to dusken
The bed of rose hurriedly..

It’s an orange evening,
And you can notice
The dust of thunder clouds
From his men’s finger-notes
As the male mother hen
No longer picks
And throws to the chicks,
BUT to its bag of gizzard.

 

Don’t Inspire Me

Don’t inspire me,
Love;
Don’t inspire me
To leave you — no.
Those ardent sighs
Shall be my death,
Those ardent sighs!
How I suffer to enter
Through the narrow door
Of your heart, love!
Such glowing bulbs of eyes
Setting fire in my belly,
Such glowing bulbs of eyes!

My days have seen nights
Of cold and mosquitoes
Waiting vainly for your face
As I seek a yes, a yes!
The fire of my love
Has made ashes of insults;
Your insults of me,
They add firewood of love
For me to advance towards your heart;
Your lions of insults of our home,
They strengthen the knees of my love,
To advance towards the centre of your heart;
Your pretense of my presence
Keeps increasing me
Like flames push the smoke up;
You know not how much
I long to sing you a love song
And that if you say no,
I shall fall cold and dead
Without wasting your time.

 

The Rebirth of Anati

I thought you died
And I rest.
What magic
Of men
Keeps you awake,
I know not.

After the Devil’s feast
You threw to the wingless birds
Of the air,
To smear off
Their brains
With the oil of tongue
Under your glands,
Later to deafen your ears
To the bleating sheep.

I thought they fell
You like Jericho Wall,
But you reincarnated,
With rigged thumbs
Of the song-less birds,
I am told under Malwa.

It is under Malwa
Where you’ll find me,
Ready for your eloquence.

I saw your narrow room
Is open,
And rattles glamour
In the hairless space,
Painting the spear
In your mouth;
Your seasonal arrivals,
They were prophesied.

What noise is that
In the market place,
And children’s playgrounds,
And schools,
And churches,
And hospitals,
Cracking feet?

I hold onto the sky
And wait for your next rebirth
Of grandiloquence.

 

Hand of Blood

A long big iron snake
Came belching smoke
From the far East
To quench its thirst
In the belly of West;
Licking animals
That stood on its way
Like grains of sugar.

In its heated hand
Were some slim rods
That smoked cigars
And vomited volcanoes,
And white papers
With wonderful words
Of tree of life.

Mukono wa damu!
Akidas,
Jumbes on the backs of coolies
Were its metallic fingers
For plucking strings of life
To produced their desired tunes.

The buffalos of snake gone,
Clouds of smokes still float behind them untamed,
For its vipers want to steer
The wheel of life too,
All I had to learn later
In the mukono wa damu
Is the wonderful words
And the rods of life.

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