Poems by Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

Poems by Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st
Swelling seas:
Like sea-sand;
The dead bury the dead:
Dead, we lay dead!
A Night of Fireflies
Say this is a city
Set upon some dung-hills:
And it underwent metamorphosis:
From a house to a home,
From a home to a village,
From a village to a town
And then to a city of dunghills.
And say these dung-hills
Harbour millions of folks,
And that these folks are rich beggars
Say governed by a tall bald-headed idiot
And so on.
Say a strange squalid wind
Sells sweet fabled-slogans of wealth
And hope in ballot box of bullets.
Night —
Blinding blinking lights
Of wooden-butted fire-breathing fireflies
With metallic nostrils
Laughing blood last.
Night —
A wakeful huge thoughtful
Restless evangelical nightclub
Of moonlit
Black tropical last
At Mvule Hills of Mutesa
Welcoming Stanley
To his reed-ribbed palace.
Night —
Blinking puzzling street lights
Green, yellow-orange, RED
And blood on white-wheeled black tyres!
Of the metallic monsters
Pot-bellied roads humid
Pearls of mud
New and robotic last.
Night —
Famous nude gala
Chilly African virtuous night
Open ulcer mouth lipsticks
Like red pencils dipped in vino;
Shamelessly nude private parts
Not for sale
For sale — squally sulpherous hot last.
Night —
Lukeworm uneasy
Malicious terribly spendid
Callous empty
Entirely long frightful sleepless
Strange lights
Of darkness loom last.
Night —
Swift arrows of darkness
Lustful fitful online
Visibly dark in imported hairs
Extracted from sisal fibres
And the bob-tailed horses
Sorry-looking last.
Night —
Hungry blood and moon-drenched
Red-handed night
Chloric bleak precarious lunar
Wet pelting dung offshore
Extremely sleepless soggy
Ragged unremitting sinister menancing
Imperal fool-hardy last.
Night —
Hallucinatory hysterical hope-filled
Slogans of approaching despair,
Vague movies of refugee blues
Picturesque of gay gala
Owl-hooting night
Attorney – general last.
Night —
Recent wholly foggy
Squealing arm twisting batons
And tear-gas armed wheeled monsters
Sore-eyed blustery lung-plucking
Everlasting scandal last.
Night —
Other demoniac ashen carnival
Lights of night
Sparkling abysmal strenuous
Seriously injured terror-filled
Life-threatening testy night
Sweet-soaked poison
That purifies the political lust
In moon-baked night last.
Night —
The monotonous face on the horde
Queerly long coal
Single dreamlike pumpkin bald-headed
Routine roll-call serial killing
Yellow-pumpkin excretion
In impressive rigged-scientific voting
Underwater last.
Night —
A numb contingent nuptial
Limpid bed-room politics,
Feverish revelatory skimpy shirts
Newly bought rat-eaten rags
Nigh the thigh night fire
With profound zoomed in breasts
Payable public toilets awesome last.
Night —
Upon the naughty-looking dung-hills
Individualistic silent strolling night
Suspicious grimy cynical sick night
Evil ritual acute diarrheal uncommunicative night
Hospital last.
Night —
Dark gloom-festered
Inevitably changing
Velvety sexy night
A never-ending post colonial night
Sweltering with oppression kraal last.
Night —
Lovers of wicked corrugated iron
Upon the dung-hills
The laurel wreath of flowers
Sparkle on the breasts of the loser
Embossed with embroidery
In the yellow-yorked city…
Rising Fall
We, the rising kingdoms fall
In the cold-blooded wind,
And we, everywhere find
The falling rise of us all.
(For Poetess G Jamie Dedes| Died: Friday, 6 November, 2020)
O comrades, fellow comrades
How sadly we all do part:
Some in blood, some in chains
Once thunders and floods start;
Some in dust, some in stains,
We do part, fellow comrades.
O comrades, beloved comrades
What a sad sudden flight
Ascending above our mournful heads
In time of strange shroud of night
Like this, mixed with varigated beads
Decending on us like arrows of light.
O comrades, sweet comrades
Fellow friends of downtrodden riffraffs
We, the scams of sweltering worlds
Whose hands are in squeezing cuffs
For slingshots of resillent words
Must sling more, sweet comrades.
O comrades, dear comrades
Of the revolting nights, spending
Golden hours indoors locked in
With wonton wind without ending
Struggling day and night to win
Life’s mockery, but falling quietly, comrades.
O comrades, open comrades
The strange wind still wanders
In the foggy fired spume of sky
Reporting mystic home wonders
Of viscious wind in state discry
Together we stand, open comrades.
O comrades, true comrades
Dead, we all lay dead
But for a common cause,
We, on whose blood they’re fed,
Rise against hands in disuse;
Like her for a noble cause, true comrades.
O comrades, noble comrades
Fellow countrymen in chains
Across blood-bathed sandy shores
This soul comrade who battled pains
Died a comrade in chain guarding our stores
Now our ribs are hollow, noble comrades.
O comrades, brave comrades
When a grass is removed, the hut leaks,
Like this! As the rains endlessly fall
Our jaws shutter like birds’ beaks
As cold darkness covers us all;
For a fallen brave soldier, comrades.
O comrades, soul comrades
A sad sudden flight is death
Leaving an everlasting chasm
Now embedded in every breath
Within the pursuing imperialism
Of the wind, soul comrades.
O comrades, precious comrades
We who lose one lose all
When we still stand and stare
And show no comradeship care
In a night like this, we all fall:
Darling, we fare thee well.
O comrades, dearest comrades
The night is a cruel cell
Though some say a safe haven
Not when guns still drum heaven
And fellow comrades shatter their shells:
Darling, we fare thee well.
O comrades, truest comrades
We sadly part till we gladly meet again
In the hours of our deaths
May eternal solace thy soul attain
And evermore soothes the pains
That embed our deathly breaths.
O comrades, fellow comrades
Of this struggling century
Sweltering with strange crescendo
And accidental dyings we bury
With no change in the perjury
In this coaxing diminuendo.
We shall no more sing of griefs
As the heavenly choirs rejoice
We all finally shall find reliefs
When we stand in common beliefs
For humanity as she raised her voice
Darling, we fare thee well.
Sleep well, darling, sleep well.
© Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

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