Poetry

Goodness Lanre Ayoola – The Minister On The Rock

By  | 

The Minister on the Rock

I

what do we do

to the shadows that crawled on our nights

pressed us into the space of depression

and left us tears and ghouls of agonies… ?

 

so many nights here without lights…

 

where is the cure…the freshness of fragrance

to the stench from the copulation of darkness on darkness

the darkness that wrote the prose of our blindness

and made men mime the drama for the audience of madness… ?

 

II

 

these men have a hand in our crucifixion

they never dream a wash for their hands off the guilt…

 

here is a forest of wonders, foxes and ballot boxes

where abrahams struggle with isaacs for the future

where the old bush rats suckle the breasts of their young

 

let us hail the old search for the change they stole

for the light they bring for the darkness they started…

 

is change that prey hard to catch if there was light here?

here in the coffins of their hearts…

 

III

 

but if the lamps of the hunter of change find you

trapped in his snare…unscathed…

 

that your palms have not oiled greedily in the oil for many

that your pockets danced not their rumps to the minty music of pilferers

that you had no shoes and have got some from contentment

that you had no hats and have got some from fidelity

that you had no rice and had farmed some grains responsibly…

 

here is this seat, where dreams were murdered

do well to revive, that we may sleep tonight…

 

                                         GOODNESS LANRE AYOOLA                               

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