I
The famished soil vomits
Last potato, lodged in its teeth
For youngsters behind left:
To breathe a little longer.
Trees were choked
At bay keeping rain thus;
Forever the sun reigns
Sending streams to silence-- premature...
Around the palm we gather
Salivating at ripe fruits above;
We lack genius to climb atop,
We lack tickets to fly atop,
We gather, salivating at ripe fruits above...
II
Vultures of hunger wrestle us--
Remnants of the house of Mwambu;
Muliro exited, abandoning us
Languishing on periphery of bondage...
Amidst a star rose
Witty and daring-- facing the knife
We endured hailstones
and brutal beating of rain,
Sure to find a shade;
But oh, Wamalwa dried!
Upon subsiding...
In mud abandoning us....
Lions are gone
Cubs disgrace nature:
Courting tigers...
III
Prodigals of our land
Lost in city alleys
and thighs of alien whores:
A long way I come
bearing a heavy load--
bitter message...
Our house is on fire
No water can quench!
Since toddlers looked at elders in the eye,
They found golden wisdom of no use
In the sad wake of civilization...
We are foolish grasshoppers
Arguing physically before smiling eagle,
What awaits us
Once we break limbs and necks?
Children from one womb don't quarrel
What then incites our tongues
To itch-- bitter?
Spitting venom
Whilst at the door, adversaries wait-- patient:
To wipe us out; away...
IV
Return home, brothers;
Mother is sick
and our house crumbling,
Our fortune's lost
What shall our children inherit?
What shall we tell them?
That we cowered to face the knife,
But fought others' battles?
We brace to endure
cold and mosquito bites;
But persistent knocks and mocks of strangers
give us no rest...
Fleas bite our hard buttocks;
Lice cause havoc to loins and backs--
Nightmares giving us thus.
Through leaking roof
At skies we gaze, searching for footprints
of stars, long gone...
Return home, brothers
Dreams are finishing children;
The gods are agitated,
So a white chicken and bull we need
Sacrifice to appease them...
And purify our name,
Obscenely sung by stinking mouths
and used by devils to commit evils;
and soiled by traitors...
V
The breast of this land
Is dry and indigent;
The breast of this land
Can't feed mouths herein...
Its cistern is shrunken--
Colostrum has to elsewhere been siphoned
By the long-handed, wide-mouthed and big-bellied--
Eaters of our fortune!
Silent are our mills
that for us vomited flour
and stole idleness, and boredom...
We've lived smuggling rights
to forge communion with those in the slaughterhouse
Hoping a piece they'd drop...
Our stores are empty
Yet our stomachs riot;
Nothing we've to lure worms with
To breathe a little longer...
Before drinkers of our sweat
return with hefty handouts;
Shedding crocodile tears
for ebbing rocks of their slings!
(c) wafula p'khisa
Thigh of an Elephant
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