Hungry god (An original poem from the archives)
This I watched theatre ‘side my tent
When all was calm that the pine whispered,
And the fluid of thought laid there sober.
Behold, in its grandeur of a cope lined with cowries and silver
Appeared the gaily oracle of the time god, Mumba.
Cradling an aide on his back like an earthly mother,
He echoed Mumba’s rage at the ancient clock that fell in the square.
“The clock of times is fallen and Mumba is furious.”
His voice was shaken from the cold of the forest.
“Mumba’s pavilion is covered in purple and His head with a vest.
Who are the perpetrators and this rage will rest?”
My heart pounded with the utterances of our guest.
How will I die as Mumba’s rage is put to test?
I shouldn’t have played in his shrine at the square.
“Easy. We’ll appease Mumba with a gift of kolanut,”
Spoke the chiefs through whom they’d chosen to speak.
And smile, from the oracle’s spaced teeth,
leaked,
That I hoped for good though it still seemed bleak.
“Quick! For Mumba is furious and sick,
His temper is boiling and will soon reach its peak,”
Quoth the oracle with fright in eye.
Head to head, thoughts clashed like cymbals.
The chiefs argued, fumed and pondered.
“Quick! Mumba is highly tempered,
His rage needs to be endangered,”
Threatened the oracle, feigning to be angered.
In his eyes on a face that was powdered,
I could see smile hid behind the pupils.
Then in a wad came the kolanut of paper.
“Mumba is merciful. How much is this piece of atonement?”
“Enough that would handle his refreshment,”
Answered the spokesman, radiating fulfillment.
The oracle smiled provoking my resentment
And to his aide still like a monument
He passed this fruit of loot from man's labor.
May, 2010
I still remember when I wrote this. I just startled from sleep and fumbled for pen and paper to relay my dream (or nightmare) before my memory fumbled with its fidelity. I thought first it'll be a serious epic poem. But it ended up being a piece of humour. A troll on higher forces that seek to exploit the terrestrial. I hope you enjoyed it.
Satire has always drawn from truth and that resonates from this prose. thanks for sharing this. It speaks to me. ~Mr. Dingo
I always enjoy mocking deities. :)
😀😀😀😀
Then again, if any of those magical psychopaths did create us, they would have a sense of humor and be able to mock themselves.
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STOPReally amazing piece oga akpan
Thank you, boss. I really appreciate.
That is a beautiful crafted poem. Your descriptive voice is wonderful! Another talented piece.