Western Civilization

-

  [1]
They picked their cutlasses and hoes,
And threaded their path to the fields,
To impregnate the soils with the seeds,
And waited for it to bore its friuts.

The wait was so long,
And the practise was stressfull and incessant
Their spinal cords melted, reforged, and solidified
Thus, their postures destabilized
And in the end, the gain was a stipend.

"O you black nigga!" you said,
"why do you still thread the path that is obsolete
Here is farm marchinery for your salvation"
And they grinned,
Embracing you with exurberating heart.

[II]
With exhiliration they've cuddled around you
And their care for you is intensive,
But in return,
You cause their forgetfulness
That their daughters look beautiful in ADILE
Their wives gorgeous in ASO - OFI 
Their sons, elegant in ASO - OKE
Their skins' radiance glow with ADI - AGBON
And that they ever have an heritage to preserve.

You place before them, another world,
One they seem is much more pleasant than theirs,
And they adopt it to be like you
But deep down in your heart,
You know they can never be.

[III]
"Western civilization" you're lightfingered
Gradually, you're taking away their heritage.
I blame not you,
But the unworthy sons and daughters,
For their photoreceptors have ceased to work,
To see you brought steel and electroplated it gold.

The unworthy sons and daughters never realise
That you're taking away their decency
And in them you breed nothing to treasure again,
And the land of exile, you send
The heritage which their forefathers had once protected with their lives.



 KOLADE MALIK A.
@iam_maykam
©2017

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Thoughts of a Sane Madman

-
Introduction It's 2 a.m and I am wide awake, listening and communing with my demons. My heads are filled with throes, my heads? Yeah, my heads, because at the moment I commune with my demons, I have two different bodies, one is mine, and the other is for someone, or some people I don't know.  A dog doesn't return to its waste, is what they say, but every time I feel like the boy who has lost his way home, I give my bodies medals (self harm) and sink back into absolute nothingness. And again, like I have always failed my promises, I have returned to my waste, & my demons & and the remains of the sanity left in me is evaporating under the heat of finding a whole in the fragment of the broken shards of me.  1. How do you tell of a boy whose body is a confluence of pains?At other point, how do you tell of a feeling the evokes in a boy to disconnect himself from everyone, (himself inclusive) because he thinks he doesn't get enough love from them? That...
Read more

SOUVENIR OF WAR

-
Image
"Is hell enough the appropriate surrogate for my home?" the question I asked myself after the launch of the first airstrike. That evening was with a suspicious feeling. We had finished our dinner of crumbled bread and were perching against the wall when it began. The sound humming above the rooftops was a paradox of expression - sonorous to the ears, and yet petrifying the heart. "We leave before the dawn of tomorrow breaks!" father blared into my ears, and I nodded doggedly despite my conflicting thought of if running was actually the last resort. People would tag us cowards, snitch, and indict us, but I guessed that wouldn't matter. We'd already lost everything. Father had lost his wife, and I had lost a sister and my teen years. What more could the world say that would haunt our sanities? After all, a warrior flees to fight another day. For a decade, father and I had been surviving amid the seething sound of bombs and bullets, bodies pilled...
Read more

Twenty Something Letters

-
Image
Firstly, today is 24th February, 2020. Today, it's my birthday and I am Twenty Something years old. Ordinarily, I am not a birthday freak, but this year, I want to make a difference and that's why I am dropping Twenty Something Letters - a collection of letters that seek love and approval; that show appreciation; and that tell of pain that has come to be part of my becoming. It is evident that these letters aren't fictional, but therein the letters are fragment of fiction, like that of letters addressed to situations rather than human. I want to also add that the fact that they are addressed to situations rather than human don't make them less true. I know it's not yours to bother about, but as in human, some may still find this confusing. If you get to read this means you truly want to read the letters. So, let me make an apology before you proceed to download. I am sorry if the collection of letters doesn't meet your expectations, I am not a write...
Read more