The verses of Slybard

- T. S. Eliot

I used to watch Professor Mazrui’s The Africans. It filled me with a lot of pride but also angered me.For example the tax policy. In Dr.Mazrui’s own words “…the African must pay tax for owning hut, hence the hut tax…”

The series was also a great source of inspiration as proven below. I have never been a fan borrowing money to supplement the national budget.Personally, the worst thing that can happen to me is to owe someone money or anything for that matter. And this whole neo-colonialism irks me to bits!Every developed country is rushing back to Africa to get a piece of the cake.Aaaargghh!

I heard that the devil is black,

light white and evil dark;

That we can’t decisions make

nor our own voices raise.

But when the worm, we are forced to take,

from a hook, for Hunger’s wiles irresistable,

who but the Fishermen, feast on praise?

Who shines in our night, the light irrevocable?

In black suits at the funeral they stand;

the cause, we can never understand.

When Bush attacked Iraq, I was one of those who cheered him on. But after I found out that it was not only about Weapons of Mass Destruction(W.O.M.D), I quickly joined Al Gore’s bandwagon.

Tony Snow was the White House spokesman then, and the other Tony is Blair.This was written after reading Virgin triangle-Kevin Baldeosingh(A wonderful read by the way).So I had all this calypso running through my head.I thought using patois would add some satirical value to the poem.Am sure every one has heard of reggae legend Glenn Washington, most commonly known for Gate pass(/…Give me the keys,give me the gate pass to your heart/Give me your number so we can make a start…/ and then /… should I bride security, just to gain an entrance/Gal where is my gate pass to your heart,yay…/)

Glenn pon de radio played;

Pon de street, death noh delayed.

Blue we sky once looked,

But a cloud dark now looms.

Is noh it to satire ah advantage,

dat Babylon once fi evil hooked,

boil as a cauldron ah oil booms;

Dat frien’ became of a savage?

Yet Tony en George led we,

by de arm, blin’ as we wasn’,

into a bloodbath not wee.

Clearly, a reason remain in wan’.

A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or alovesickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

In school, reading novels was left to the chicks and students of literature.I was neither but got away with it.Harry Potter did it for me, before I came to know Jeffrey Archer, Karen Robard, Danielle Steel, Stephen King, Robert Ludlum(up there on my list of favourites), John Grisham(another favourite) and Sidney Sheldon.

At the time of his death, I’d read The sands of time;Morning,noon and night;The naked face. The windmills of the gods,The other side of midnight and The sky is falling.I was planning to read the rest of his books, the one’s I liked: Bloodline and Stranger in the mirror.

This elegy was written a few days after he passed on.May his soul R.I.P.

Morning,noon and night

through the rough sands of time,

we prayed never to see the naked face

of the ugly, other side of midnight.

For life is a stranger in the mirror

as we draw further and IT nearer;

And the windmills of the gods

can’t upset or avert Fate’s odds.

Hence the sky is falling,

where was it once flying.

THE EPITAPH

Here lies one of his kind,

who, with ink and paper, tamed a mind.