ECHOES AT THE CRACK OF DAWN E-Book

TUNDE DADA

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

The arrangement of the collection of poems in the ECHOES AT THE CRACK OF DAWN follows a continuous and sequential flow of subject matters. From the beginning to the very end, coherence is sustained through themes, lucid diction and images that give a perfect match of contents and contexts. It addresses and redresses the contemporary socio- political issues, lost heritage, matters of the heart and also captures the cultural aesthetics of Africa in a new voice, born of creativity and originality…. It is a logical, didactic and rhythmical collection that is fun to read for its rhymes on the lines. A picture, they say is more than a thousand words, the paper back alone speaks volume.

Leseprobe

TUNDE DADA

ECHOES AT THE CRACK OF DAWN

A Collection of Poems

DEDICATION Unto none besides you The maker of the heaven and earth The rock upon which I stand for muse Dedicated to the glory of God, I serve BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

SOCIAL COMMENTARY

THE LADY OF LAW

Justice is a statue of a lady

Her bottom is a little shady

The wig upon her head is wisdom

And judges like Solomon in a kingdom

Her eyes dwell in a blindfold

So has she been since of old

Holding a balance scale in her left hand

She stands like an anthill upon the land

A sword, unsheathed in her right

For justice, she stands to fight

That is how the lady should be

As my books have truly told me

But under this moon and sun, I walk

Of what my eyes see, I shall talk

I’ve beheld but a different thing

Somewhere in the land of the living

There, I stumbled upon the lady in the statue

Who had lost the ethics, values and virtue

For the wig upon her head is money

And her eyes can tell a mountain from a valley

Her hand holds a scale that betrays balance

With unequal measures for same deviance

A mountain, her sword doesn’t fight

But a valley, it fights like a knight

There stood my shaky feet before her court gate

And then went my eagled eyes so straight

In awe, I saw the lady of law

With her sword, fighting a war

She stabbed but mostly the poor

Oh, too much and much more

But little or not at all

Did, the lady of law to befall

Her two-edged sword upon the rich

And out they went without a hitch

Never would they be caught

By the lady of the law in her court

JOBS FOR THE GHOSTS

A little bird told me of a thousand jobs

To the masses were sold but a hundred slots

About fifty scores went to the qualified ghosts

And the rest to the unqualified folks

Little wonder why wonders shall never end

All those jobs for the elite’s folks and friends?

Even their ghosts got a lot with ease

The masses only hustled but got the least

Many times have my eyes seen the living die

Much as my ears also have heard them cry

Gone in their quests for a means of livelihood

Cried for nothing but joblessness as the likelihood

But above all things that my eyes are yet to see

I had longed to behold a wonder as a scene

Where these ghosts and folks shall lose their jobs

And where the masses shall be a few for a slot

THE MAID’S ORDEAL

Sleeping late and waking early in all seasons

For no cause than odd chores I’ve grown so old

Yet rain abuses on me for unreasonable reasons

Behold an Alice-in-Wonderland household

Where the dogs ever eat hot balanced diet

And the maid, left to feed on the cold remnant

A hopeless and helpless maid, so quiet

Works like an elephant but feeds like an ant

Not mine but theirs, the interest I daily serve

In a mirror, I see but a carnally abused shadow

That their father secretly molested with nerve

Forced to labour, oh, pushed like a barrow

I’m the abused shadow that their lips call a cheat

But a rose by any other name shall smell as sweet

A GIRL AT TEN

Take me down

I’m a girl at ten

Let peace be unto my gown

A penis is not a pen

My lips beg but for poems, to sing

They aren’t ripe for a kiss

My finger is still small for a ring

My vagina knows no blood but piss

Father, what has your child to do?

With your peer, a goner of a groom

My tender body isn’t yet due

For a seed to open my virgin womb