Poems by Umar YB
PERCH NOW O DOVE
Compressed volcanoes going up
With every ticking of the clock;
As the Ring of Fire does expand
Spreading fear, dearth an’ havoc.
Thin orphans move thick mountains
In search of raiment and bread
Bereaved wives lacking in muscles
Carry their homes on the head.
Perch now O bird of the heavens
On this sunbaked forsaken terrain
Littered with parts and caked clots
Of men maimed, and of men slain
Build thy nest with with twigs of hope
On the typhooned tree of love…
Tolerance, compassion – host branch
For a manna of calm from above
Justice, its compost manure, for
Ragged pauper, bejewelled king.
A plain of no predators nor preys;
O what heaven could that bring!
No longer shall I
Worship those aloof stars
Who twinkle not to guide me home.
Nor more revere
The strong eagles’ wings
That, yet, bear me not during storm.
To hell with the
Fat and lofty mountains:
The greedy and unfeeling granites…
Who take up
The greenest fields
For their girths an’ ill-gotten heights.
Have carried baskets
For many a lucky fishermen,
Sans for once tasting of the juicy catch…
Now, it is time
To brood my abandoned eggs…
UNLIKE A WADER
Unlike an oyestercatcher,
Egret or little sanderling,
To this freaky sea I’ve come
Not just to forage but also surf.
Even once in a blue moon,
With gay abandon,
Dip I my restrained bill,
And drench the tail of my wings
Foraying into the funs and puns
Of the brimming abyss.
For in this volatile water,
One but weathers the spume
With strokes marching in force
To the prevailing waves…
Or risk swimming with the fishes
No matter the muscles
In one’s limbs.
Therefore, like swan, I fish and relish…
Thus neither do I famish, nor perish.