Parables About Home

Parables About Home

I
My nation is run by a cartel,
Of fat potbellied villains,
Beasts cursed to suffer
The eternal thirst of the insatiable
They will not die well.

Vultures in rich garments
And expensive scents
That cannot delete
The perpetual stink of death
Their puppets clad in black,
Purported custodians of peace,
Wreak havoc on their ward,
Raped justice serially
Till it became tradition.
II
My nation is phantasmagoric
People walk on their heads,
Talk with their eyes,
Hear with their nostrils,
See with their ears.
The motherless infant howls
No one bothers
The thief is a saint
Insane is he who cries foul.
III
Are we conjurors?
Planting maize expecting yam
‘Repeating the same,
Expecting different,
Is madness’
One said…
Aren’t we all mad?



18 thoughts on “Parables About Home” by Shope (@fisayoawi)

  1. I like when a work of art shows societal’s ills, and tht is what you have done here.This is very good poetry.

    Well done!!!

  2. @shope, you are an artist, maybe i should call you the wordsmith…this poem is not a writing its a carving because i see its message like a carving…very descriptive with imageries…nice powerful lines, you did WELL. KUDOS.

  3. @ Lawal, thanks a lot. The aim is to provoke thought, and maybe, just maybe some action.
    @ Xikay, thanks man. Thanks for seeing the art. When the message does not compromise the art and vice versa, the creator should be satisfied.
    Thanks y’all.

  4. This is brilliant Shope, but I don’t think that ‘Phantasmagoric’ is right. I don’t think it even works with Nation, I mean the right form now, (Phantasmagoria & Phantasmagorical).

  5. Now when hope is being expected.. Now when it seems a quiet revolution is drizzling.. Now when it seems the government is purging out snakes… Your poem is really an attack.. An attack that will only discourage the nation’s movements over the path of change…

  6. @idoko, discourage or ENCOURAGE? i beg to disagree Sir.

  7. @Scopeman. Thanks for that. I have gone back to check in a thesaurus and it isn’t wrong. You could do the same. Thanks. I appreciate.
    @Idoko. What have you seen? What are you seeing? I began writing the poem on a day mobile policemen were deployed because the Ooni of Ife was celebrating something, and the roads were closed. It precipitated this poem.

  8. Political lamentation which is more or less about complaint than an attack. What we should be doing is to go on the offensive with our poisoned pens to prevent the repetition of the evil past albeit satirical.
    Nice lines. Kudos!

  9. No, at least I am not mad. Phew! Epe re sa! Epe lo se jo! you must have been so frustrated. I can feel your every pain in the aggression of these lines.

  10. @shope, dont tell me you’re in IFe, the land of my birth
    @colotrends i felt it too

  11. @Colotrends, lol.
    @Xikay, am a student at the Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife.

  12. ok.. nice old town Ife… lived there in the 80s and late 90s

  13. @shope i m so much in love with this work. so graphic. @scopeman as for the usage of Phantasmagoric u don’t even need any dictionary just a little knowledge of English morphology vis a vis the derivation of adj from noun would do. language is not prescriptive @kolotrend i don’t see aggression in the lines but naked truth maybe u are on the receiving side. OK don’t feel attacked just make a change.
    i love the poem thou
    thumbs up shope!

  14. This is a work of art which lays bare the ills of our leaders in stark reality. Apart from one or two typos, this is perfect!

  15. i dont seem to like it when people talk about errors without sporting them.@raymond go ahead and identify the typos u talked about.

  16. @ Raymond, yes please ‘sport’ out the typos o – but make sure you start from Mr Adams’ . Just gave you a clue.

    Mr Johnson, i hope you know that satire harps on constructive criticism?

  17. My bad. I was reading something else when I also decided to type this comment. My bad. Make ya blood no hot. @colotrends…Hehehehehe.

  18. But I meant what I said earlier when I said the poem was perfect. My bad, once again.
    I think I need glasses…Hmm…

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