By The Road Side

By The Road Side

I saw a man who

Sits close to that conflagration of death,

Where the nerve cells at the epicenter of his naval cavity have been incapacitated.

His moist nose unaware of the dump land,

A paradigm for mans waste in a land flowing with gold

 

I saw a man, who scratches his beard,

With an accompanying musical tune ‘scra-scra’

To which the inimitable lice,

Grown fat from the warm blood flowing

Through the dark patches of loosely-sagging cheek danced.

 

I saw a man,

Who watches earnestly at passer-by

His taste bud anticipating,

His tongue wagging as if in imminent collapse

To see if those tight wad jeans would unravel crisp naira notes

Notes which would bring dotting smile to his wide scarred face.



12 thoughts on “By The Road Side” by poposky (@billchucks)

  1. Naval cavity or nasal cavity?
    You describe well too.
    Nice poem, but… What’s the message? That you saw a beggar? What about it?

    1. i will make the correction thanks anyway

  2. Kaycee’s right. Yeah, what the deal in seeing a derelict?

    Nice poem though.

    1. it about the way he acted inorder to get naira notes

      His taste bud anticipating,

      His tongue wagging as if in imminent collapse

      To see if those tight wad jeans would unravel crisp naira notes

  3. i like ur attention to detail
    the message for me is…the plight/the sorrow i feel for the described beggar.

    1. adaobi that the point, this poem duels on issues people do not consider important and an occurnce which occurs around us everyday. But sometimes we need to consider things which seem intangible thats while i described a situation where a beggar strives to obtain his daily bread

  4. I was able to see that man too.
    Good job!

  5. I like your description but I think you lost the rhythm halfway through the second verse.

    It didn’t help that there was a missing coma. Below, I have placed it after cheek, but I think the whole portion can still be better rewritten. Well done, and keep writing.

    To which the inimitable lice,

    Grown fat from the warm blood flowing

    Through the dark patches of loosely-sagging cheek, danced.

  6. @poposky where does dis man stand? I need to avoid such places. Cos M̶̲̥̅γ̲̣̣̥ naira ain’t crisp.
    Whichever way U̶̲̥̅̊ look at it, these guys populate almost everywhere in Lagos. What to do ψϊτħ ’em?

  7. Ok poem. Sorry for d poor lice-ridden beggar. U shud make it tighter tho..it feels a bit loose.
    Also, didn’t undestand this: ‘…tight wad jeans..’ ???

  8. Them have talked it finish. Nice one anyway.

  9. I like it.

    I like the way you describe, To me it feels as though you’ve given the begger a ‘royal mien’…I hope I’m correct.

    Your descriptive powers are…

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