Saturday, 19 December 2015


Vincent Ajise

When I saw you, my elders,
breaking the pericarp of the kola nut
shrouding the riddles of peace
I saw the gate of Troy open, embracing
the idiosyncrasies of the Spartans
I saw Medusa gazing into men’s eyes,
converting them to epitomes of glamour
I saw the god of war --- Ares,
in sheol, eating the feces of ants


When the god of war
called a spell upon our clan,
did our beer-bellied statesmen
break the kola nut of peace?
Did they...?

Rather like a random brewer
they fermented diatribes
& bottled tranquility
in the glory of propaganda.

Then, they, Our messiahs,
bought exile and fled
when the heat from roasted cherubs
scorched the rear of their hair. Cowardice.

Now, they have come again
with their gong of prejudice
claiming to be cognoscenti of our freedom.

Now, they have come again
with thirty pieces of silver
seeking for youths akin to Judas.

Wirra! What is the rationale
behind feeding a god
whose corpse is now revered by worms?

What will be the legacy
of a country whose
foundation is to be built
on the relics of war?

What is freedom
without the existence of a future?

Olajide Vincent Ajise

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