The Rumbling
Poetry
Ape
Sam Mwaka-karama
Luke warm - Tender - loving - Friendly. Are the virtues what
all want
That morning warmth, the tender malleable nature in a
luke-warm bath
The friendliness of
the whispering gossiper on the Fm window sill
The easy lyrical words of rumor mongery, poetic ballad
serenade – you are agog…
Fascinated by the soothing warmth and lure – somnolent in
the soapy gossip and rumor
Comfy in unending steamy warmth of success – lulled by the
haunting opera!
Home love comfort – you shall not want – sardonic smile melt
your heart!
Basking in the foam and heat of a personal sauna - with a
loved one somewhere, anywhere…
In the vastness of
the inner sanctum of your sprawl – life was great!
When you tuck in shirt to designer trousers – you are demi !
You, you and nobody else it was who made it
You worked it out personally with the best architect in town
You gave it the personal touch – with the interior décor
guys - brought your secret desire to life!
No! Hell No - not anything you were not forgetting, a
vintage fireplace included
That you now confidently stand elongated at the back of
beyond
Not a former life! Be off you silly-little gnome of a
thought! What former life!
It was nobody else’s dream, but your personal one… and you
did hatch that egg!
Yes it was on the fast track, only for a while… but then
came the Crooke’s scare!
Disbanded the groupie, when guys and dolls began falling
like thorn trees felled!
Mowed-down by the angry hands of the tree feller
Groupie had scampered desperately – friends became
suspicious foes
The invisible moth of the anthill gnawed away in the veins
of the unknown victims
Chaany! Then Chaany! You only knew when a friend had
crushed down cold!
Then came the hysteria of who has it! Who is next on the
death raw? And who gave it to who!
Dark suddenly it had become very – people on the streets trudging
face-down
Sometimes you ran into someone you thought you knew… looking
bad now and, veered off pointedly
You looked. And then looked! The silent quickened step of
the type that went to oblivion…
Then came the time too, when counseling and discussions –
gave hope to the next generation infected
The participants survived, gained confidence and
peripherally lived
Now you were cold – because you thought and worried your
personal warmth away
The invisible moth of the anthill gnawed away in the veins
of the unknown victims
Comfort, if only you knew how far you went – if only you
knew! If only you knew.
But now it is too late – for no one pays a visit anymore –
the trauma rules
And the Bob Wade Fm is vain – for the stigma is freeman now –
your vein is now yours**
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